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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifty-Two Stories For Girls, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Fifty-Two Stories For Girls
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Alfred H. Miles
+
+Release Date: July 2, 2008 [EBook #25948]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY-TWO STORIES FOR GIRLS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE KING'S TRAGEDY. [See p. 434. ]
+
+
+
+
+FIFTY-TWO STORIES FOR GIRLS
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES
+
+[Illustration: Inter Folia Fructus]
+
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+D. APPLETON & CO.
+1912
+
+_Published September, 1905_
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+TABLE OF AUTHORS.
+
+EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN
+SARAH DOUDNEY
+ARMAND CAUMONT
+ALICE F. JACKSON
+NELLIE HOLDERNESS
+MARGARET WATSON
+JENNIE CHAPPELL
+MARION DICKEN
+LUCY HARDY
+MARIE DELBRASSINE
+HELEN BOURCHIER
+NORA RYEMAN
+KATE GODKIN
+LUCIE E. JACKSON
+MAUD HEIGHINGTON
+DOROTHY PINHO
+GORDON STABLES, M.D., R.N.
+ROBERT OVERTON
+CLUCAS JOUGHIN
+ALBERT E. HOOPER
+CHARLES E. PEARCE
+S. LE SOTGILLE
+H. G. BELL
+THOMAS ARCHER
+ALFRED G. SAYERS
+ROBERT GUILLEMARD
+F. B. FORESTER
+ALFRED H. MILES
+
+AND OTHER WRITERS.
+
+
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+SCHOOL AND HOME.
+
+
+SUBJECT                              AUTHOR                        PAGE
+
+GLORIA DENE'S SCHOOLFELLOWS:        _Nora Ryeman_
+  I. NARDA: THE NIGHTINGALE           "                             11
+  II. ESTELLA: THE HEIRESS            "                             16
+  III. MAURA: THE MUNIFICENT          "                             22
+  IV. MARGOT: THE MARTYR              "                             29
+  V.  IRENE: THE SNOW FLOWER          "                             35
+  VI. NADINE: THE PRINCESS            "                             39
+
+MY YEAR AT SCHOOL                   _Margaret Watson_               48
+
+THE SILVER STAR                     _Nellie Holderness_             57
+
+UNCLE TONE                          _Kate Godkin_                   67
+
+A NIGHT ON THE ROAD                 _Margaret Watson_               77
+
+THE MISSING LETTER                  _Jennie Chappell_               83
+
+"THE COLONEL"                       _Marion Dicken_                 93
+
+NETTIE                              _Alfred G. Sayers_              97
+
+THE MAGIC CABINET                   _Albert E. Hooper_             103
+
+
+GIRLHOOD AND YOUTH.
+
+ONLY TIM                            _Sarah Doudney_                121
+
+SMITH'S SISTER                      _Robert Overton_               139
+
+THE COLONEL'S BOY                   _H. Hervey_                    148
+
+'TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH               _Clucas Joughin_               155
+
+ROSE'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT             _Marie E. C. Delbrassine_      164
+
+DOLLY HARDCASTLE'S ROSEBUDS         _Charles E. Pearce_            171
+
+A TALE OF SIMLA                     _Dr. Helen Bourchier_          177
+
+THE TREVERN TREASURE                _Lucy Hardy_                   189
+
+A MEMORABLE DAY                     _Sarah Doudney_                196
+
+DORA                                _Alfred H. Miles_              202
+
+LITTLE PEACE                        _Nora Ryeman_                  211
+
+THE STORY OF WASSILI AND DARIA      _Robert Guillemard_            215
+
+
+PLUCK, PERIL, AND ADVENTURE.
+
+MARJORIE MAY                        _Evelyn Everett-Green_         225
+
+FOURTH COUSINS                      _Gordon Stables, M.D., R.N._   238
+
+THE PEDLAR'S PACK                   _Lucie E. Jackson_             245
+
+THE UNBIDDEN GUEST                  _F. B. Forester_               264
+
+THE WRECK OF THE MAY QUEEN          _Alice F. Jackson_             275
+
+ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC                 "                            285
+
+A STRANGE VISITOR                   _Maud Heighington_             295
+
+THE THIRD PERSON SINGULAR           _Lucy Hardy_                   301
+
+"HOW JACK MINDED THE BABY"          _Dorothy Pinho_                307
+
+MY GRANDMOTHER'S ADVENTURE          _Alfred H. Miles_              310
+
+A TERRIBLE CHRISTMAS EVE            _Lucie E. Jackson_             315
+
+A NIGHT OF HORROR                   _Alfred H. Miles_              326
+
+AUNT GRIEVES' SILVER                _Lucie E. Jackson_             329
+
+BILLJIM                             _S. Le Sotgille_               341
+
+
+IN THE WORLD OF FAERY.
+
+THE LEGENDS OF LANGAFFER            _Armand Caumont_
+  I. THE TINY FOLK OF LANGAFFER       "                            353
+  II. THE KINGFISHER                  "                            364
+  III. CASPAR THE COBBLER             "                            380
+  IV. DAME DOROTHY'S DOG              "                            391
+  V. THE LITTLE LOCKSMITH             "                            397
+
+
+ROMANCE IN HISTORY.
+
+HOW CICELY DANCED BEFORE THE KING   _Thomas Archer_                403
+
+A MOTHER OF QUEENS                  _From "Old Romance"_           410
+
+THE STORY OF GRIZEL COCHRANE        _W. R. C._                     418
+
+A WIFE'S STRATAGEM                  _Lucy Hardy_                   427
+
+THE KING'S TRAGEDY                  _Alfred H. Miles_              434
+
+THE STRANGER                        _H. G. Bell_                   439
+
+LOVE WILL FIND A WAY                _Lady Nithsdale's Records_     447
+
+
+
+
+SCHOOL AND HOME.
+
+
+GLORIA DENE'S SCHOOLFELLOWS.
+
+BY NORA RYEMAN.
+
+
+I.--NARDA: THE NIGHTINGALE.
+
+
+I.
+
+"Here you are, miss," said the red-faced cabby, putting his head in at
+the cab window, "this is Miss Melford's school."
+
+It was a large, many windowed, white house on Hertford Green, in sight
+of the famous spires of Silverbridge, and was for some six months to be
+both home and school to me, Gloria Dene.
+
+I was late in my arrival, and I was tired, for I had come all the way
+from Erlingham in the heart of Norfolk, and moreover, I was hungry, and
+just a little homesick, and already wanted to return to the old
+homestead and to Uncle Gervase and Aunt Ducie, who had taken the place
+of my parents.
+
+The cabman gave a loud rat-a-tat with the lion-headed knocker, and in
+due course a rosy-faced servant maid opened the door and ushered me in.
+
+Then she preceded me through a broad flagged hall, lit by crimson
+lamps. And as I went I heard a sweet and thrilling voice singing,
+
+        "Home, home, sweet, sweet home,
+    Be it ever so humble there's no place like home."
+
+The words naturally appealed to me, and I exclaimed:
+
+"How lovely! Who is singing?" only to be told that it was Mamselle
+Narda, the music mistress.
+
+I thought of the nightingale which sang in our rose bush on summer
+nights at home, and found myself wondering what Mamselle was like.
+
+The next day I saw her--Bernarda Torres; she was a brown beauty, with
+dark rippling hair, soft dark eyes, and a richly soft complexion, which
+put one in mind of a ripe peach on a southern wall.
+
+She was of Spanish extraction, her father (a fruit merchant) hailing
+from Granada, her mother from Seville. Narda's path had been strewn with
+roses, until a bank failure interrupted a life of happiness, and then
+sorrows had come in battalions. Mamselle had really turned her silver
+notes into silver coins for the sake of "Home, Sweet Home."
+
+This love of home it was which united Narda and myself. She told me all
+about the house at home, about her brother, Carlos, and his pictures,
+and _maman_, who made point lace, and Olla Podrida, and little Nita, who
+was _douce et belle_. And I, in my turn, told her of the thatched
+homestead near the Broads, of the bay and mulberry trees, of Aunt
+Ducie's sweet kind face, and Uncle Gervase's early silvered hair.
+
+And she called me "little sister," and promised to spend her next
+vacation where the heron fishes and the robin pipes in fair and fresh
+East Anglia.
+
+But one May morning, when the lilacs in our playground were full of
+sweet-scented, purple plumes, a bolt fell from the blue. A letter came
+to Narda telling her of her mother's failing health, her father's
+apathy, her brother's despair.
+
+"It is enough," said Mamselle, "I see my duty! An impresario once told
+me that my destiny was to sing in public. I will do it for 'Home, Sweet
+Home,' I will be La Narda the singer, instead of Miss Melford's
+Mamselle. God who helps the blind bird build its nest will help me to
+save mine."
+
+
+II.
+
+There had been the first fall of the snow, and "ye Antiente Citie"
+looked like some town in dreamland, or in fairyland, as Miss Melford's
+boarders (myself amongst the number) went through its streets and wynds
+to the ballad concert (in aid of Crumblebolme's Charity), at which
+Mamselle, then La Narda, the _cantatrice_, was announced to sing. We
+were naturally much excited; it seemed, as Ivy Davis remarked, almost as
+though we were all going to sing in public.
+
+We had front seats, quite near the tapestried platform from whence we
+took note of the audience.
+
+"Look, look!" whispered Milly Reed eagerly. "The Countess of Jesmond,
+and the house-party at Coss have come to hear _our_ Mamselle. That dark,
+handsome man next the countess is Count Mirloff, the Russian poet. Just
+think I----"
+
+What more Milly would have said I really cannot say, for just then there
+was a soft clapping of hands, and La Narda came down the crimson steps
+of the Justice Room, and advanced to the footlights.
+
+"She's like a fairy queen! She's just too lovely!" said the
+irrepressible Ivy. And though Miss Melford shook her head, I am sure she
+also was of the same opinion, and was proud of my dear brown
+nightingale.
+
+The _petite_ figure was robed in white silk, trimmed with frosted leaves
+and pink roses, and wore a garland of the same on her dark bright head.
+
+    "Tell me, thou bonnie bird,
+    When shall I marry me?
+    When three braw gentlemen
+    Churchward shall carry ye,"
+
+sang the sweet full voice, and we listened entranced. The next song was
+"Robin Adair."
+
+Then came an encore, and as Narda acknowledged it, an accident occurred
+which (as the newspapers say) might have had a fatal termination.
+
+A flounce of the singer's dress touched the footlights, and the flame
+began to creep upwards like a snake of fire.
+
+Narda glanced downward, drew back, and was about to try to crush it out
+with her hands, when in less time than it takes to tell it, the Russian
+gentleman sprang forward, wrapped his fur-lined coat about her, and
+extinguished the flame.
+
+The poet had saved the nightingale, and Miss Melford's romantic girls
+unanimously resolved "that he ought to marry her."
+
+
+III.
+
+And he did shortly after. Our some time music-teacher who was good
+enough for any position became a _grande dame_ with a mansion in St.
+Petersburg, and a country house in Livania. She went to balls at the
+Winter Palace, and was present at all the court ceremonies.
+
+Yet was she still our Narda, she sent us girls presents of Viennese
+bonbons and French fruit, bought brother Carlo's paintings, sent
+_petite_ Nita as a boarder to Miss Melford's, and studied under a great
+_maestro_.
+
+When a wee birdie came into the Russian nest she named it Endora Gloria,
+and her happiness and my pride were complete.
+
+Then came a great--a terrible blow. The count, whose opinions were
+liberal, was accused of being implicated in a revolutionary rising. He
+was cast into prison, and sent to the silver mines to work in the long
+underground passages for twenty years.
+
+Ivy Davis, who was very romantic, was grievously disappointed because
+the countess returned to her profession instead of sharing her husband's
+exile. But there came a day and an hour when she honoured as well as
+loved the _cantatrice_; for she with Heaven's help freed the count, and
+obtained his pardon from the Czar--she herself shall tell you how she
+gained it.
+
+Read the letter she sent to me:--
+
+
+"Gloria, Alexis is free; he is nursing Endora as I write.
+
+"When the officers took him from me I felt half mad, and knew
+not where to go.
+
+"One morning as I knelt by my little one's white bed an
+inspiration came; over the mantel was a picture of 'The Good
+Shepherd,' and I clasped my hands, and cried aloud:
+
+"'O bon Pasteur, help me to free Thy sheep.'
+
+"And lo, a voice seemed to answer: 'Daughter, use the talent
+that you have.'
+
+"I rose from my knees knowing what course to pursue. I sought
+new opportunities for the display of my one talent, I was more
+than successful, I became Narda the prima donna, and won golden
+guineas and opinions.
+
+"At last came my opportunity. I was to sing at Bayreuth in
+Wagner's glorious opera, I was to sing the Swan Song, and the
+Czar was to be present.
+
+"The house was crowded, there was row upon row, tier after tier
+of faces, but I saw one only--that of the Czar in his box.
+
+"I stood there before the footlights in shining white, and sang
+my song.
+
+"The heavenly music rose and fell, died away and rose again, and
+I sang as I had never done before. I sang for home, love, and
+child.
+
+"When the curtain fell the Czar sent for me and complimented me
+graciously, offering me a diamond ring which I gratefully
+refused.
+
+"'Sire,' I said, 'I ask for a gift more costly still.'
+
+"'Is it,' he asked, 'a necklace?'
+
+"'No, sire, it is my husband's pardon. Give my little daughter
+her father back.'
+
+"He frowned, hesitated, then said that he would inquire into the
+matter.
+
+"Gloria, he did, God be praised! The evidence was sifted, much
+of it was found to be false. The pardon was made out. Your
+nightingale had sung with her breast against a thorn, 'her song
+had been a prayer which Heaven itself had heard.'"
+
+
+
+
+II--ESTELLA: THE HEIRESS.
+
+
+Her Christian name Estella Marie, her starry eyes and pale, earnest
+face, and her tall, lissom figure were the only beautiful things about
+Estella Keed. Everything else, dress, home, appointments, were exceeding
+plain. For her grandfather in whose house she lived was, though
+reputedly wealthy, a miserly man.
+
+He lived in a large and antique house, with hooded windows, in Mercer's
+Lane, and was a dealer in antiques and curios. And his popular sobriquet
+was Simon the Saver (Anglicè, miser).
+
+Stella was the only child of his only son, a clever musician, who had
+allied himself with a troupe of wandering minstrels, and married a
+Spaniard attached to the company, and who, when he followed his wife
+into the silent land, bequeathed his little girl to his father,
+beseeching him to overlook the estrangement of years, and befriend the
+orphan child. She inherited her name Estella from her Spanish mother,
+but they called her Molly in her new home--it was part of her
+discipline.
+
+Simon Keed had accepted, and fulfilled the trust in his own peculiar
+way. That is to say, he had sheltered, fed, and clothed Estella, and
+after some years' primary instruction in a elementary school, had sent
+her to Miss Melford's to complete her studies.
+
+Farther than this he had not gone, for she was totally without a proper
+outfit. In summer her patched and faded print frocks presented a
+pathetic contrast to the pink and blue cambrics, and floral muslins, of
+the other girls; and in winter, when velvets and furs were in evidence,
+the contrast made by her coarse plain serge, and untrimmed cape of Irish
+frieze, was quite as strong; indeed, her plainness was more than
+Quakerish, it was Spartan, she was totally destitute of the knicknacks
+so dear to the girlish heart, and though she had grown used to looking
+at grapes like Reynard in the fable, I am sure she often felt the sting
+of her grandfather's needless, almost cruel, economy. This was evidenced
+by what was ever after spoken of by us girls as the garden-party
+episode.
+
+Near the old city was a quaint and pretty village, one famed in local
+history as having in "teacup," Georgian, times been honoured by a visit
+by Mrs. Hannah More, who described it as Arcadian.
+
+It had a fine, well-timbered park, full of green hollows in which grew
+the "'rath primrose," and which harboured a large, Jacobean mansion,
+occupied, at the period of this story, by Dr. Tempest as a Boys'
+Preparatory School, and as Mrs. Tempest was an old friend of Miss
+Melford's, the senior pupils (both boarders and day scholars) were
+always invited to their annual garden- or breaking-up party, which was
+held in the lovely park.
+
+Stella, as one of the senior girls, was duly invited; but no one deemed
+that she would accept the invitation, because her grandfather had been
+heard to say that education was one thing, and frivolity another.
+
+"I suppose _you_ won't go to the party," said impulsive Ivy Davis, and
+Estella had answered with a darkened face:
+
+"I cannot say. When I'm not here I have to stay in that gloomy old
+house, like a mouse in its hole. But if I can go anyhow, Ivy, I shall,
+you may depend upon _that_."
+
+Then we heard no more about the matter until the eventful day, when, to
+our surprise, Estella presented herself with the other day scholars, in
+readiness to go.
+
+"Look, Gloria, look," said Ivy, in a loud whisper, as we filed through
+the hall, "Stella's actually managed to come, and to make herself
+presentable. _However_ did she do it?"
+
+"Hush," I whispered back, but, all the same, I also marvelled at the
+girl's appearance.
+
+Her heliotrope and white muslin skirt was somewhat faded, it was true,
+but still, it was good material, and was pretty. The same could be said
+of her cream blouse. The marvel and the mystery lay in hat, necklet, and
+shoes.
+
+The hat was of burnt straw, broad brimmed, low crowned, and of the
+previous summer's fashion. It was simply trimmed with a garland or band
+of dull black silk, and large choux of the same, all of which might have
+been fresher; but in front was an antique brooch, or buckle, of pale
+pink coral and gold, which was at once beautiful and curiously
+inconsistent with the rest of the costume. Round Estella's throat was a
+lovely gold and coral necklace, and her small, worn shoes boasted coral
+and gold buckles. She had got a coral set from somewhere, where and how
+we all wondered.
+
+Even Miss Melford was astonished and impressed by Estella's unwonted
+splendour, for touching the necklet, I overheard her say:
+
+"Very pretty, my dear! Your grandfather, I presume, gave you the set?
+Very kind of him!"
+
+Stella, with a flushed face, replied:
+
+"He did not give it, ma'am," and the matter dropped.
+
+Miss Melford and I presumed that Mr. Keed had simply lent his
+grand-daughter the articles--which likely enough belonged to his stock
+of antiquities--for the day.
+
+It was a delightful fête--one of those bright and happy days which are
+shining milestones along the road of life. The peacocks strutted about
+on the terrace and made us laugh when they spread out their tails. We
+ate strawberries and cream under the elms, played all kinds of outdoor
+games on the greensward, and when we were tired rested in the cool,
+pot-pourri scented parlours.
+
+I am of opinion that Estella enjoyed herself as much as any of us,
+though she became strangely quiet and downcast on our way home. But, as
+Ivy truly remarked, it was not to be wondered at; the fairy palace was
+left behind, and the rôle of Cinderella awaited her on the morrow.
+
+Upon the day succeeding the party, we broke up. I went home to spend the
+vacation with my uncle and aunt, and when I returned to school I found
+as usual, on reassembling, that there were a few vacant places, amongst
+them that of Estella Keed. I wondered how this was, though I did not
+presume to question Miss Melford on the subject; but one autumn morning,
+when passing through Mercer's Lane, I came across Estella. She looked
+shabby and disconsolate, in her faded gown and worn headgear, and I
+asked her if she had been unwell.
+
+"Oh dear no," was the response, "only very dull. I never go anywhere, or
+see any one--how can I help being so? I am only Molly now. No one calls
+me by my beautiful mother's name, Estella. I want to learn to be a
+typewriter, or something, and go and live in a big city, but grandpa
+says I must wait, and then he'll see about it! I detest this horrid
+lane!" she added passionately.
+
+I looked down the long, mediæval street, with its gabled houses, and
+then at the old church tower (round which the birds were circling in the
+distance), and replied with truth that it was picturesque, and carried
+one back into the storied past.
+
+"I am tired of the past--it's all past at ours--the jewels have been
+worn by dead women, the old china, and bric-à-brac, has stood in empty
+houses! It's all of the dead and gone. So is the house, all the rooms
+are old. I should like to live in a new house."
+
+"Perhaps you want a change?" I said. "Why don't you come back to
+school?"
+
+She shook her head, and glanced away from me--up at the old Gothic
+church tower, and then said hurriedly:
+
+"I must hurry on now, Gloria--I am wanted--at home."
+
+One December evening not long after, during Miss Melford's hour with us,
+at recreation, she said:
+
+"Young ladies, you will be pleased to hear that your old schoolmate,
+Estella Keed, returns to us to-morrow."
+
+On the morrow Estella came, but how different was she from the old and
+the former Estella!
+
+She wore a suitable and becoming costume of royal blue, and was a
+beautiful and pleasant looking girl! Her own natural graces had their
+own proper setting. It seemed indeed as if all things had become new to
+her, as if she lived and breathed in a fresher and fairer world than of
+yore!
+
+Perhaps because I had been sympathetic in the hour of trouble, she
+attached herself to me, and one day, during recess, she told me why she
+had been temporarily withdrawn from school.
+
+"Gloria," she said, "grandfather never gave me his permission to go to
+the garden-party--indeed, I never asked for it, for I was quite sure
+that he would not give it.
+
+"But I meant to go all the same, and persuaded Mrs. Mansfield, the
+housekeeper, to help me. She it was who altered and did up an old gown
+of mother's for me to wear. But without the coral set I should not have
+been able to go; for, as you know, I had no adornments. I'd often seen
+them when on sale and wished for them; but I knew that they would
+neither be given nor lent for the party.
+
+"Then Fate, as it seemed, befriended me; my grandfather had to go to
+London about some curios on the date fixed for the party, and I
+determined to borrow the set and make myself look presentable. All I had
+to do was to go to the window and take them out of their satin-lined
+case.
+
+"I hoped to replace them before my grandfather returned from town, but
+when I got home from the fête I found that he had returned by an earlier
+and quicker train than he himself had expected to. He looked at me from
+head to foot, then touched the necklace and the clasp, and demanded of
+me sternly where I had been.
+
+"I was tongue-tied for a few moments, and then I blurted out the truth:
+
+"'Grandfather,' I said, 'I've been to Dr. Tempest's garden-party as one
+of Miss Melford's senior girls, and as I didn't want to be different
+from the other girls I borrowed the coral set for the day. They are not
+hurt in the least.'
+
+"The room seemed going round with me as I spoke, even the dutch cheese
+on the supper table seemed to be bobbing up and down.
+
+"At last my grandfather spoke:
+
+"'Take the set off and give them to me,' he said shortly.
+
+"I yielded up the treasures with trembling hands, and when I had done so
+he told me I should not return to school, and then added:
+
+"'Go to your room and don't let me hear of this affair again. I fear you
+are as fond of finery as your mother was.'
+
+"You know the rest. I did not return to Miss Melford's, and I should not
+have been here now but for Dr. Saunders. Soon after the garden-party my
+grandfather was taken ill, and the doctor had to be called in. I think
+he must have taken pity on me, and must have spoken to my grandfather
+about me. Anyhow, my grandfather called me to his bedside one day, and
+told me that he knew that he could not live many years longer, and that
+all he wanted was to leave me able--after he was gone--to live a good
+and useful life without want, and that if he had been too saving in the
+past, it was all that my future should be provided for. There was a
+strange tenderness in his voice. Strange at least it seemed to me, for I
+had never heard it there before, and I put my face down upon the pillow
+beside him and cried. He took my hand in his, and the silence was more
+full of hope and promise than any words of either could have been. I
+waited upon him after that, and he seemed to like to have me about him,
+and when he got better he told me that he wished me to return to school
+and to make the best use of my opportunities while I had them. He told
+me that he had decided to make me an allowance for dress, and that he
+hoped that I should so use it as to give him proof before he died that
+I could be trusted to deal wisely with all that he might have to leave."
+
+Estella remained at school until I left, and the last time I saw her
+there she was wearing the red coral set which had estranged her from her
+grandfather as a token of reconciliation; and she told me that the old
+man's hands trembled in giving them to her, even more than hers did in
+giving them up, as he said to her with tears in his eyes and voice:--
+
+"All that I have is thine."
+
+
+
+
+III.--MAURA: THE MUNIFICENT.
+
+
+I.
+
+WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.
+
+
+Maura was the most popular girl in the school. She would have been
+envied if she had not been so much loved. The reason was that she was
+amiable as well as pretty, she had plenty of pocket-money, and was
+generous to a fault. If a girl had lost, or mislaid, her gloves, Maura
+would instantly say, "Oh, don't make a fuss, go to my glove-box and take
+a pair." Or if a pupil's stock of pin-money ran out before the end of
+the quarter, she would slip a few shillings into her hand, merrily
+whispering:
+
+    "For every evil under the sun,
+    There's either a remedy, or there's none;
+        _I've_ found one."
+
+Maura was heiress of Whichello-Towers, in the north, with the broad
+lands appertaining. She was an orphan, her nearest relative being her
+uncle, a banker, who was her guardian, and somewhat anxious about his
+charge. So anxious indeed that he sometimes curtailed her allowance, in
+order to teach her prudence.
+
+"Maura, my dear, waste is wicked even in the wealthy; you need wisdom as
+well as wealth," said Miss Melford to her one day. And indeed she did,
+for sometimes the articles she bought for others were singularly
+extravagant and inappropriate.
+
+When Selina, the rosy-cheeked cook, was married from the school, the
+teachers and pupils naturally gave her wedding presents. My gift took
+the form of a teapot, Margot's of a dozen of fine linen handkerchiefs,
+and the others (with the exception of Maura) of things useful to a
+country gardener's wife.
+
+Maura bought a dress of heliotrope silk, elaborately trimmed with white
+lace, and as the bride truly observed, "Fit for a princess."
+
+But the heiress of Whichello had a lodging in all our hearts, and when
+I, one midwinter morning, saw her distraught with a troubled look in her
+soft brown eyes, I was grieved, and begged her to confide in me.
+
+"If I do, you cannot help me, Gloria," said Maura. "The fact is, I'm
+short of money."
+
+"Not an unusual state of affairs," rose to my lips, but the words
+changed as I uttered them.
+
+"Poor Maura! Surely _you_ have a little left?"
+
+"Only these," and she drew out two shillings.
+
+"Well, you must draw on my little bank, until your uncle sends your next
+remittance," was my reply.
+
+"It isn't any use. Gloria, you are nice, and sweet, but _your_ money
+would only be a drop in the ocean! I'm not to have any money all next
+quarter. This letter came this morning. Read it."
+
+I did. It was a letter from Maura's guardian, who informed her that he
+desired to give her an object lesson in thrift, and, therefore, would
+hold her next remittance--which had already been anticipated--over. He
+also intimated that any applications to him would be useless.
+
+"Well, things might be worse," was my comment, as I returned the letter.
+"You must let _me_ be your banker and must economise, and be prudent
+till the next cheque arrives."
+
+"Yes, I will--but----"
+
+"But what, Maura?"
+
+"I'm in debt--dreadfully in debt. See."
+
+With this she drew some papers from her pocket, and handed them to me.
+
+One by one I looked them over. The first was a coal dealer's bill for a
+fairly large load of coal.
+
+"_That_," said Maura, "was for old Mrs. Grant, in Black-Cross Buildings.
+She was _so_ cold, it made me quite creepy to look at her."
+
+I opened another. This was from a firm of motor-car and cycle dealers,
+and was the balance due upon a lady's cycle. I was perplexed.
+
+"Why, you said you never intended to cycle," I said, with amazement,
+"and _now_ you have bought this Peerless bicycle!"
+
+"Yes, but it was not for myself," she said, "I gave it to Meg Morrison
+to ride to and from her work in the City! Trams and 'buses don't run to
+Kersley, and it was a terrible walk for the poor girl."
+
+"Could not Meg have bought one on the instalment system for herself?"
+
+"Why, Gloria, how mean you are! She has seven brothers and sisters, and
+four of them are growing boys, with appetites! The butcher and baker
+claim just all she earns."
+
+I opened the third yellow envelope, and was surprised to see a bill
+with: To Joseph Greenaway, Furniture Dealer, one child's mahogany cot £1
+10_s_, upon it.
+
+"Maura," I cried, "this is the climax. Why ever did you buy a baby's
+cot--and how came Mr. Greenaway to trust you? You are only a minor--an
+infant in law!"
+
+"Oh, do stop," said Maura; "you're like Hermione or Rosalind,
+or--somebody--who put on a barrister's gown in the play----"
+
+"Portia, I suppose you mean?"
+
+"Yes, Portia. Mr. Greenaway let me have the cot because I once bought a
+little blue chair from him, for Selina's baby, for which I paid _cash
+down_."
+
+It is impossible to describe the triumphant manner in which she uttered
+"cash down," it was as if she had said, _I_ paid the national debt.
+
+"Now," she proceeded, "I'll tell you why I bought it--I was one day
+passing a weaver's house in Revel Lane, when I saw a young woman crying
+bitterly but silently at the bottom of one of the long entries or
+passages. 'I fear you are in trouble' I said. 'Is any one ill?'
+
+"She shook her head. She couldn't speak for a moment, then whispered:
+
+"'Daisie's cot has followed the loom!'
+
+"I asked her what following the loom meant.
+
+"'O young lady,' she replied, 'the weaver's trade has been mortle bad
+lately, and last week I sold Daisie's cot for the rent--and when the
+broker took it up I thought my heart would break; but hearts don't
+break, missie, they just go on achin'.'
+
+"Daisie was her only child, and the cot was a carved one, an heirloom in
+which several generations of the family had slept!
+
+"I had only a florin in my purse, but I gave her that, took her name and
+address and walked on.
+
+"But the woman haunted me. All the rest of the day I seemed to see her
+weeping in the long, grey street, and to hear _her_ sobbing above the
+sound of the music in the music-room, and when I woke up in the middle
+of the night, I thought I would go to Mr. Greenaway the next day, and
+ask him to let me have a cot, and I'd pay him out of my next quarter's
+pocket-money. The very next day he sent the crib--'From an unknown
+friend.' That's all, Gloria! Now, what shall I do?"
+
+"Go and tell Miss Melford all about it," said I. "Come, _now_."
+
+Maura shrank from the ordeal, but in the end I persuaded her to
+accompany me to the cedar parlour, where the Lady Principal was writing.
+
+A wood fire burned cheerily on the white marble hearth, and the winter
+sunlight fell brightly on the flower-stand full of flowers--amidst which
+the piping bullfinch, Puffball, hopped about.
+
+Miss Melford, with her satin-brown hair, and golden-brown silk dress,
+was a pleasant figure to look upon as she put down her pen, and said
+sweetly:
+
+"Well, girls, what is it?"
+
+Maura drew back and was silent, but I was spokeswoman for her; and when
+I concluded my story there was silence for a few moments.
+
+Then Miss Melford rose, and putting an arm round Maura's shoulders,
+gravely, but at the same time tenderly, in her own sweet way, pointed
+out the moral of the situation, and then added:
+
+"You shall accompany me to see the people who have generously (if
+unwisely) allowed you to have the goods, and I will explain matters, and
+request them to wait."
+
+Maura was a quiet, subdued girl for a time after this, but a few days
+later she knocked timidly at Miss Melford's door. Miss Melford was
+alone, and bade her enter. Once in the room Maura hesitated, and then
+said:
+
+"Please, Miss Melford, may I ask a favour?"
+
+"Certainly, my dear! What is it?"
+
+"If I can find any right and honourable way of earning the money to pay
+the bills with, may I do so?"
+
+"Assuredly," said Miss Melford, "if you will submit your plan to my
+approval; but, Maura, I am afraid you will find it is harder to earn
+money than you think."
+
+"Oh yes, I know money is hard to get, and very, very easy to spend. What
+a queer world it is!" was Maura's comment, as she left the room.
+
+
+II.
+
+THE BAL MASQUÉ.
+
+
+There was to be a Children's Fancy Dress Ball--a Bal Masqué, to which
+all Miss Melford's senior pupils were going, and little else was talked
+of weeks before the great event was due!
+
+Margot was to go as Evangeline, and I was to be Priscilla the Puritan
+Maiden, but none of us knew in what character Maura Merle was to appear.
+It was kept secret.
+
+Knowing the state of her finances, both Miss Melford and the girls
+offered to provide her costume, but she gratefully and firmly rejected
+both proposals, saying that she had made arrangements for a dress, and
+that it would be a surprise.
+
+And indeed it was, for when we all assembled in the white drawing-room,
+in readiness for our escort to the Town Hall, Maura was what newspapers
+style "the cynosure of all eyes."
+
+She wore a frock of pale blue silk! and all over it in golden letters
+were the words: "Sweets from Fairyland."
+
+Her waving golden hair was adorned by a small, white satin, Trigon hat,
+ornamented with a blue band, on which were the words: "Fairy Queen."
+
+From her waist depended an elaborate bonbonnière, her sash was dotted
+all over with imitation confections of various kinds, her blue satin
+shoes had rosettes of tiny bonbons, and her domino suggested chocolate
+cream.
+
+There were of course loud exclamations of--"What does this mean, Maura?"
+
+"Why, you are Fairy Queen, like the Fairyland Confectioner's Company's
+advertisements!" but all Maura said was:
+
+"Girls, Miss Melford knows all about it, and approves."
+
+At this juncture, Miss Melford's voice was heard saying: "Follow me, my
+dears," and we all filed out of the room, and down the stairs to the
+carriages in waiting. The Town Hall was beautifully decorated, and the
+costumes were delightful. There were cavaliers, sweeps, princesses, and
+beggar-maids, but no one attracted more notice than Fairy Queen, who
+instead of dancing glided about amongst the company, offering fondants
+and caramels from her big bonbonnière.
+
+The young guests laughed as they ate the sweetmeats, and rallied her
+upon the character she had chosen.
+
+"Why have you left Fairyland?" asked a musketeer, and Fairy Queen
+replied:
+
+"Because I want you all to have fairy fare."
+
+"Won't you dance, Fairy Queen?" asked Bonnie Prince Charlie,
+persuasively, but Fairy Queen curtsied, and answered:
+
+"I pray you excuse me, I'm on duty for the Company in Wayverne Square."
+
+I guessed that there was something behind all this, and the sequel
+proved my conjecture true.
+
+For when the Bal Masqué was a golden memory, Maura came to me with a
+little bundle of receipted bills in her hand, saying:
+
+"Look, Gloria, "Fairy Queen" paid _these_. I was with Ivy in a
+confectioner's one day when the mistress told us that a member of the
+newly started firm of sweetmeat manufacturers, who traded as the
+Fairyland Company, had said that he wished _he_ had a daughter who could
+go to the ball as Fairy Queen, and exploit his goods.
+
+"I thought to myself: 'Well, Maura Merle could do it,' and I went to the
+Company and offered to undertake the duty, subject, of course, to Miss
+Melford's permission.
+
+"They said they would give me a handsome sum, and provide the dress, and
+I wrote to Uncle Felix, and begged him to let me have his sanction.
+
+"His answer was: 'The money will be honestly earned, earn it.'
+
+"So I did! The Company were much pleased with me, and here are the
+receipted bills. I need hardly tell you how much I enjoyed being what a
+newsboy in the street called me, 'The Little Chocolate Girl!'"
+
+
+
+
+IV.--MARGOT: THE MARTYR.
+
+
+I.
+
+AT SCHOOL.
+
+
+"Mademoiselle Margot, Professor Revere's daughter, who has come to share
+your English studies, girls," said Miss Melford, presenting a tall,
+clear-complexioned, sweet-faced girl one May morning on the opening of
+school.
+
+The new-comer bowed gracefully, and then took a vacant seat next to me,
+and we all took good-natured notice of her, for her black frock was worn
+for her newly lost mother, and her father, our popular French master,
+was an exile, who for a supposed political offence had forfeited his
+estate, near La Ville Sonnante, as the old city of Avignon is often
+called. Margot would have been _une grande demoiselle_ in her own
+country had not monsieur fallen under the displeasure of a powerful
+cabinet minister during a change of _régime_, and Miss Melford's girls
+were of opinion that the position would have suited her, and she the
+position.
+
+Mademoiselle Margot soon interested us all, not only in herself, but in
+her antecedents and prospects. She was never tired of talking of her old
+associations, and that with an enthusiasm that aroused our sympathy and
+inspired our hopes.
+
+"Picture to yourself," she would say, "Mon Désir on a summer's day, the
+lawns spreading out their lovely carpet for the feet, the trees waving
+their glorious foliage overhead, the birds singing in the branches, the
+bees humming in the parterre, and the water plashing in the fountains.
+_Maman_ loved it, as I did, and the country people loved us as we loved
+them. _Maman_ used to say, 'A little sunshine, a little love, a little
+self-denial, that is life.' Even had we been poor there, walked instead
+of ridden, ate brown bread in lieu of white, we should have been amongst
+our own people. But now----"
+
+Then we would all crowd round her and spin romances about the Prince
+Charming who would come her way, and present her with Mon Désir, with
+all its dear delights, and with it--his own hand.
+
+Margot's failing was a too sensitive pride. She was proud both of and
+for the professor. She could not forget that he was, as she would say,
+_un grand gentilhomme_, that his ancestors had fought with Bayard and
+Turenne, had been gentlemen-in-waiting to kings, had wedded women who
+were ladies of the court.
+
+I discovered this slight fault of my darling's on one occasion in this
+way: as we girls were going our usual noonday walk, we came to a large,
+red-brick house, standing alone in its own grounds; it was not a cottage
+of gentility, but a place which an estate agent would have described as
+a desirable mansion. Everything about it, mutely, but eloquently, said
+money. Big glass-houses, big coach-houses, big plate glass windows,
+spacious gardens, trim lawns, etc., etc., etc.
+
+As the school filed past, an elaborate barouche drew up to the iron
+gateway, and a lady, who was about entering it, stared at our party, and
+then looked keenly at Margot. She was a pretty woman, blonde, with a
+mass of fluffy, honey-coloured hair, and a cold, pale blue pair of eyes.
+Her costume was of smooth, blue-grey cloth, the flowing cloak lined with
+ermine, and her hat a marvel of millinery; indeed, she presented a
+striking contrast to the professor's daughter in her plain, neat black
+coat and frock, and small toque, with its trimming of white narcissi,
+and I cannot say that I was favourably impressed by the unknown, she was
+far too cold and purse-proud looking to please me.
+
+After a close and none too polite scrutiny, the lady bowed, approached,
+and held out her hand.
+
+"Good-morning, Miss Revere," she said graciously, yet with more than a
+suspicion of patronage, "I trust the professor is well," and without
+waiting for an answer, "and your mother? We have been so busy
+entertaining, that I have been quite unable to call, or send! However,
+tell her that I am going to send for her to Bellevue, the very _first_
+day I'm alone, the _very first_!"
+
+We two girls were alone (the rest having gone on with Fräulein
+Schwartze), and there was silence for a moment, during which the lady
+turned toward her well-appointed carriage; then Margot spoke, with some
+asperity, though I heard the tears in her silvery voice.
+
+"Mrs. Seawood," she said, "there is no more need to trouble; _maman_ has
+gone where no one will be ashamed of her because she was poor."
+
+The lady turned a little pale, and expressed herself as shocked, and
+then, having offered some cold condolences, spoke to the coachman; and
+as we passed on we heard the quick rattle of the horses' hoofs, as the
+barouche rolled down the long drive.
+
+There are times when silence is golden, and _this_ was one! I did not
+speak until we came to a five-barred gate, on the topmost rung of which
+Margot laid her arms, bent her head, and sobbed like a little child.
+
+I put my arm round her neck to comfort her.
+
+"Margot, _chérie_," I whispered, "tell me why you weep."
+
+It appeared that the professor had been used to teach the little
+delicate son of the purse-proud lady, and that he had taken great
+interest in the little fellow both on account of his backwardness and
+frail health.
+
+"After he died," said Margot, "his mother seemed grateful for these
+small kindnesses, and called upon us. Sometimes she sent the carriage
+for _maman_ to spend a few hours at Bellevue, but always when the
+weather was unpleasant. Then, you see, I used to go to the Seawoods for
+my mother, take bouquets of violets, Easter eggs, and other small
+complimentary tokens of regard, and madame would exclaim, 'How sweet!'
+or 'How lovely!' but always in a patronising manner. I only told the
+'How sweet!' and 'How beautiful!' to mother, because _she_ used to look
+wistfully at me, and say how glad she was that I had some English
+friends.
+
+"Once, I remember, I was passing Bellevue at night with papa; it was a
+cold, January evening, with snow falling, and we shivered a little.
+They were giving a grand party, the house was lit up like an enchanted
+palace, and papa (who is often as sweetly simple as Don Quixote) said:
+
+"'I cannot understand why your friends have overlooked you, _petite_,
+you could have worn the little grey frock with blue trimmings, eh?'
+
+"They never understood how hollow a friendship it was. They could not
+realise that others could display a meanness of which they themselves
+were incapable, and I suppose it was only my own proud heart, less free
+from the vanity of human weakness than theirs, which made me detect and
+resent it; and so I had to endure the misery of this proud patronage and
+let my parents think I was enjoying the friendship of love. To be proud
+and dependent, Gloria, is to be poor indeed. But I must conquer my
+pride, if only that I may conquer my poverty, and as Miss Melford told
+us at scripture this morning, he that conquers his own proud heart is
+greater than he that taketh a city."
+
+Then she linked her arm in mine, and said:
+
+"The Good God has allowed me to become poor, but he has given me _one_
+talent, I can paint, and if only for papa's sake I must overcome evil
+with good and try to win a victory over myself."
+
+
+II.
+
+THE PALM-BEARERS.
+
+
+Miss Melford, and a chosen party of the senior girls (of whom I was
+one), stood in our beautiful Art Gallery attentively studying a water
+colour on the line. The picture was numbered 379 in the catalogue, was
+called "Palm-Bearers," and was painted by Miss Margot Revere! _Our
+Margot_, the girl who had been my classmate, whom I had loved as a
+sister. The scene portrayed was a procession of early Christians
+entering an Eastern city at Eastertide. There were matrons and maids,
+golden-haired children, and white-haired men, all bearing green palm
+branches, under an intense, cerulean sky.
+
+"Well done, Margot," said Miss Melford softly, with a suspicious dimness
+in her eyes, and there was a general chorus of approval from all
+beholders.
+
+Margot, who was much older than I, had left school long since, had
+studied, worked, copied in the great Art Galleries, exhibited, and sold
+her works.
+
+She was then in Rome with her father, who had become blind, and I had at
+that moment a long letter from her in my bag, as I stood looking at her
+picture. In one passage of it she had written: "the girl with the crown
+of white roses in my last painting is my little Gloria, my girl comrade,
+who consoled me when I was sad, who watched next my pillow when I was
+sick, and when sad memories made me cry at night crept to me through the
+long dormitory and knelt beside me, like a white-robed ministering
+angel. Apropos of palms, mama was a palm-bearer; I must win one before I
+look on her dear, dear face." As I thought on these words, Miss
+Melford's voice speaking to Gurda broke in on my thoughts.
+
+"Dear, dear, how extremely like to Gloria is that figure in the middle
+of Margot's painting!"
+
+"Of course, Miss Melford, Margot will have sketched it from her. She was
+her chum, her soul's sister."
+
+"Her soul's sister!" Those three words went with me through the gallery;
+into the sculpture room, amidst white marble figures, into the room full
+of Delia Robbia and majolica ware, everywhere!
+
+Even when we descended the flight of steps, and came into the great
+white square, I seemed to hear them in the plashing of the fountains.
+
+
+III.
+
+THE RAIN OF FIRE.
+
+
+It was August, and rain had fallen on the hot, parched earth.
+
+The bells in the church tower were ringing a muffled peal, and as I
+listened to the sad, sweet music, I thought of Margot, lonely Margot,
+who had seen her father laid under the ilex trees, and then gone to
+visit a distant relative at Château Belair in the West Indies. It was a
+strange coincidence, but as I thought of her the servant brought in a
+card, bearing the name, M. Achille Levasseur, beneath which was
+pencilled:
+
+"Late of Château Belair, and cousin of the late Mademoiselle Margot
+Revere."
+
+So Margot was dead, had gone to join her loved ones where there are no
+distinctions between rich and poor.
+
+Stunned, and half incredulous, I told the maid to show him in, and in a
+few minutes a tall, dark, foreign looking man stood in the bright,
+flower-scented room which (it being recess), I occupied in Miss
+Melford's absence.
+
+I rose, bowed, and asked him to be seated, then, with an effort, said:
+
+"M'sieu, I am Gloria, Margot's chum, and chosen sister. Tell _me_ about
+her."
+
+The story was a short one, we had neither of us a desire to dwell upon
+the details. The island had been subject to the fury rain of a
+quenchless volcano. Whole villages had been overwhelmed and buried in
+the burning lava, and hundreds had met with a fiery death. In the midst
+of the mad confusion, Margot's calm presence and example inspired the
+strong, reassured the terrified, aided the feeble, and helped many on
+the way to safety. How many owed their lives to her, her cousin could
+not say, but that it was at the cost of her own, was only too terribly
+true. She had helped her cousin's family on to the higher ground, which
+ensured safety from the boiling lava, only to discover that one little
+one had been left behind peacefully sleeping in her cot, the little
+baby who had been christened Gloria at Margot's desire in memory of me.
+It was a terrible moment to all but Margot, and to her it was the moment
+of a supreme inspiration. She dashed down the hill before she could be
+stayed, though the ground shook under her feet, and the burning sea of
+fiery rain was pouring down the valley below. She reached the house and
+seized the infant, and started with frenzied speed to ascend the hill
+again. Her cousin, who had seen to the safety of the others of his
+family, had now started out to meet her. They saw each other and hurried
+with all the speed they could to meet. Within touch a terrific explosion
+deafened them as the father seized his child, and Margot, struck by a
+boulder belched from the throat of the fierce volcano, sank back into
+the fiery sea.
+
+As M. Levasseur ceased, there came through the open window the silvery
+sound of the minster bells. They were playing the lovely air,
+
+    Angels ever bright and fair,
+    Take, O take, me to your care.
+
+It came to me that they had taken Margot in a chariot of fire, and I
+seemed to see her in an angel throng with a palm branch in her hand.
+
+My favourite trinket is a heart-shaped locket, containing a lock of dark
+brown hair, intermixed with golden threads. It is both a souvenir, and a
+mascot; for the hair is from the head of my girl chum Margot.
+
+
+
+
+V.--IRENE: THE SNOW FLOWER.
+
+
+I.
+
+BEDFELLOWS.
+
+
+Amongst Miss Melford's intimate friends, when I was a boarder at her
+school, was a silvery-haired, stately lady, known as Mrs. Dace, who in
+her early life had been _gouvernante_ to the Imperial children at the
+court of the Czar. Her old friends and pupils wrote to her frequently,
+and she still took a keen interest in the Slav, and in things Slavonic.
+
+When her Russian friends--the Petrovskys--came to England, they left
+their youngest child, Irene, as a pupil at Miss Melford's school, to
+pursue her education while they travelled in Western Europe for a while.
+
+Irene Petrovsky was a pretty little thing, with flaxen hair and clear
+blue eyes, and we called her the Snow Flower, after that beautiful
+Siberian plant which blooms only in midwinter. I have never forgotten
+her first appearance at the school. When Miss Melford led her into the
+classroom we all looked up at the small figure in its plain white cloth
+frock trimmed with golden sable, and admired the tiny fair curls which
+clustered round her white brow. She made a grand court curtsey, and then
+sat silently, like a wee white flower, in a corner.
+
+We elder pupils were made guardians of the younger ones in Miss
+Melford's school, and it was my duty as Irene's guardian to take her to
+rest in the little white nest next to mine in the long dormitory. In the
+middle of the first night I was disturbed by a faint sobbing near me,
+and I sat up to listen. The sobs proceeded from the bed of the little
+Russian girl, and I found she was crying for her elder sister, who, she
+said, used to take her in her arms and hold her by the hand until she
+fell asleep. A happy thought came to me; my white nest was larger than
+hers. So I bade her creep into it, which she readily did, and nestled up
+to me, like a trembling, affrighted little bird, falling at last into a
+calm, sweet sleep.
+
+From that time forward we two were firm friends, and the girls used to
+call the Little Russ, Gloria's shadow.
+
+She was very grateful, and I in my turn grew to love her dearly; so
+dearly that when her father, the count, came to take her home, in
+consequence of the death of her mother, I felt as if I had lost a little
+sister.
+
+Ever after this our little snow flower was a fragrant memory to me. I
+often thought of her, and wondered as I watched the white clouds moving
+across the summer sky, or the silver moon shining in the heavens,
+whether she too was looking out upon the same fair scene from the other
+side the sea and thinking of her some time sister of Miss Melford's
+school.
+
+
+II.
+
+AFTER MANY DAYS.
+
+
+Some years after I had left the school financial difficulties beset my
+uncle's affairs. Aunt Ducie died in the midst of them, and Uncle Gervase
+did not long survive. Our household gods went under the auctioneer's
+hammer, our beautiful home became the home of strangers, and I went to
+live in an obscure quarter of a distant town. My means being exceeding
+small, I took rooms in a small house in a semi-rural suburb, and from
+thence began to look for work for pen and pencil. I had learned to draw,
+and had succeeded in one or two small attempts at story telling, and
+with my pen and pencil for crutches, and with youth and hope on my side,
+I started out with nervous confidence upon the highway of fame.
+
+Cherry-Tree Avenue was a long, narrow street within a stone's throw of
+the grim, grey castellated towers of the county gaol, and the weekly
+tenants who took the small, red-brick houses were continually changing.
+
+Facing us was No. 3, Magdala Terrace, a house which was empty for some
+weeks, but one April evening a large van full of new furniture drove up
+to it, followed by a respectable looking man and woman of the artisan
+class, who soon began to set the house in order. Before sleep had fallen
+on the shabby street a cab drove up to No. 3, and from it stepped a
+woman, tall, slight, and closely veiled. I had been to the pillar box to
+post an answer to an advertisement, and it happened that I passed the
+door of the newly let house as the cab drew up. Without waiting to be
+summoned, the trim young woman came out to welcome the new-comer, and
+said in French:
+
+"Madame, the place is poor, but clean, and quiet, and," lowering her
+voice, "fitted for observation."
+
+In spite of my own anxieties I wondered who the stranger could be, and
+why the little house was to be an observatory. Then I remembered the
+vicinity of the big gaol, and thought that madame might have an interest
+in one of the black sheep incarcerated there.
+
+Very soon strange rumours began to circulate amongst the dwellers in the
+avenue. The bright young woman was madame's foster sister; madame
+herself was of high degree, a countess, or one of even nobler rank,
+travelling in disguise; the quiet, dark young man, her foster sister's
+husband, was a woodcarver, who was out of work and only too glad to
+serve the foreign lady, who out of generous pity had come to stay with
+them.
+
+I, of course, gave no credence to these seemingly absurd reports, but,
+all the same, I was aware that there was a mystery at No. 3. The lady
+was young, beautiful, and distinguished looking, she had dark, pathetic,
+haunting eyes, which reminded me forcibly of other eyes I had seen, but
+when and where I could not recall; and though her dresses were dark,
+they were _chic_, the word Paris was writ plain on all her toques.
+
+Madame made no friends, and it was clear from the first that she desired
+to be undisturbed, at any rate by her neighbours. Every now and again
+there were visitors at No 3, but these were strangers, foreign looking
+visitors, cloaked, swarthy and sombre men who came and went, one of whom
+I overheard say in French as he flicked the ash from his cigar: "Chut!
+the rat keeps in his hole, he will not stir."
+
+At Maytime, in the early gloaming, the foreign lady and I met in the
+narrow street.
+
+We met face to face, and passed each other with a slight bow of
+recognition; a moment after I heard soft, hurried footfalls, and the
+strange lady was by my side.
+
+She held out an envelope addressed to me, saying:
+
+"Pardon me, if I mistake not, you dropped this. Is it not so?"
+
+I thanked her, and took the letter, saying:
+
+"It _is_ mine, and I should have troubled had I lost it."
+
+This little incident broke down our old-time reserve, and saying:
+
+"I go to-morrow," she placed a bunch of amber roses she was carrying in
+my hand. I thanked her, and asked by what name I might remember her?
+
+"As Nadine," she whispered softly. "I need not ask you yours."
+
+The mention of the name electrified me. Here was I bidding farewell to
+Nadine, whose little sister Irene, our sweet snow flower, I had loved
+and lost at the old school far away.
+
+Nadine noticed my excitement, and putting her finger to her lips,
+cautioned me to silence. But I was not to be denied.
+
+"Irene?" I said in a whisper, "Irene, where is Irene?"
+
+"Hush!" she said, taking me by the arm and drawing me in at the open
+doorway of No. 3. "Speak of it not again. Irene fell a victim to our
+cruel Russian laws, and lies beside her husband among the snow tombs of
+Siberia."
+
+The next morning the strange dark house was empty. The woodcarver and
+his wife, and the beautiful Nadine, had vanished with the shadows of the
+night.
+
+
+
+
+VI.--NADINE: THE PRINCESS.
+
+
+I.
+
+WHICHELLO TOWERS.
+
+
+It was between the lights. I was looking down the dingy street from
+behind the curtains of my little window at the postman who was working
+his way slowly from side to side delivering his messages of hope and
+fear, and was wondering whether I was among those to whom he bore
+tidings of joy or sorrow. I had few correspondents, and no expectations,
+and so it was with surprise that I saw him ultimately turn in at our
+little garden gate and place a letter in our box.
+
+I was not long in breaking the seal, and it was with real delight and
+surprise that I discovered that it was from my old schoolfellow, the
+generous and sometimes extravagant Maura. It ran thus:
+
+                                         "WHICHELLO TOWERS,
+                                                  _October 3rd._
+
+     "MY DEAR ABSURD LITTLE GLORIA,--
+
+     "Why have you hidden away from your friends so long? Was it
+     pride, self-styled dignity? Never mind, I have found you
+     out at last, and I want you to join our house-party here.
+     We have some interesting people with us of whom you can
+     make pencil sketches and pen pictures (they call them
+     cameos or thumbnails, do they not?). Amongst them are the
+     beautiful Princess Milontine, who wrote, 'Over the
+     Steppes,' and the famous Russian General, Loris Trakoff.
+
+     "The change will do you good. Name the day and time of your
+     arrival, and I will meet you at the station. There are
+     surprises in store for you, but you must come if you would
+     realise them.
+
+                                     "Your affectionate MAURA."
+
+I put by the missive, and meditated over the pros and cons. My wardrobe
+would need replenishing, and I had none too much money to spend. I could
+manage this, however, but there arose another question.
+
+I was a worker--would it do me harm to disport myself in the flowery
+mead with the butterflies? Should I feel a distaste for the bread earned
+by labour and pain after the honey placed, effortless, on my plate?
+
+So much for the cons. The pros were these:
+
+Black, being most inexpensive in a smoky town, was my wear, relieved by
+a few touches of blue. And I should not go as a butterfly, but as a
+quiet worker in my dark things. I need only buy a new walking costume,
+and a fresh dinner dress. The costume difficulty was disposed of. Then
+again, I had been without a day's change for five years; and here was
+the prospect of one I should enjoy. The pros had the victory, I went.
+
+I arrived at the station in the gloaming, when twilight veiled the
+everlasting hills, and found two figures waiting on the narrow platform.
+
+One of these had a fresh, fair, bonnie face, framed in hair of a golden
+brown, and I knew her for Maura Merle, my old schoolfellow, the lady of
+Whichello Towers. The other was darker, taller, and the very dark blue
+eyes had a pensive expression, she could have posed as a study for
+Milton's _Il Pensoroso_, and I did not recognise her for an instant, and
+then I exclaimed: "Not--not 'Stella."
+
+"Yes, 'Stella," said Maura. Our own beautiful Estella and the miser's
+heiress came forward and kissed my first surprise away. As she did so I
+noticed that she was wearing the beautiful coral set which had wrought
+the tragedy of her school days.
+
+We had naturally much to say to each other, and as we walked towards
+Whichello Towers together, Maura said:
+
+"You have worked and suffered, Gloria, since we were last together. You
+look thoughtful, are graver, and there are violet circles under your
+eyes, which used to be so merry."
+
+"Yes," I said, "I've had to fight the battle of life for myself since I
+left school, but it makes the more welcome this reunion with my old
+schoolfellows."
+
+"Speaking of them," interposed Maura, "we have Princess Milontine
+staying with us--little Irene's sister--I left her doing the honours on
+my behalf when I came to meet you."
+
+This then was the second surprise in store for me. Neither of my
+companions had the slightest idea how great a surprise it was.
+
+Naturally, we had much to talk of during our walk up to the Towers, Miss
+Melford had passed away, and one or two of my old companions had
+followed her across the border. Irene was, of course, one of them, but
+I took the news of her death as though I had not heard it before.
+
+I had not heard of Miss Melford's death previously, and the angel of
+memory came down and troubled the waters of my soul, so I was silent for
+a time.
+
+The silence was broken by Maura, saying:
+
+"There is something painful, if not tragical, connected with Irene's
+death, of which the princess refuses to speak; so the subject is never
+mentioned to her." And then, as if to change the subject, she added, "I
+have named my little daughter Cordelia after Miss Melford, but we call
+her Corrie."
+
+As she spoke we came in sight of The Towers--a large, four-winged
+mansion, with pepper box turrets, oriel windows, a square lawn, and many
+tree-lined walks.
+
+"Home," said Maura, and in a few minutes I found myself in the large
+warm hall, bright with firelight, and sweet with autumn flowers.
+
+Standing by a table, and turning over the leaves of a book, stood a
+graceful woman in fawn and cream, who turned round upon our entrance,
+saying:
+
+"There is tea on the way, you will take some?"
+
+"Thank you, princess, yes, directly we come down," said Maura, and then
+she added: "See, I have brought an old friend to see you, Gloria,
+Princess Milontine."
+
+The foreign lady held out her hand, and as I took it I found myself
+almost involuntarily murmuring, "Nadine." For the dark pathetic eyes of
+the Russian princess were those of the mysterious foreigner who had
+lodged in Cherry-Tree Avenue. She kissed me (foreign fashion) on both
+cheeks, and as she did so whispered: "Hush! let the dead past sleep."
+
+Wondering much, I held my peace and went to inspect the sunshine of
+Whichello Towers, the pretty dimpled Corrie; and though I forgot the
+incident during the evening, I remembered it when I found myself in my
+own room.
+
+Why had Nadine lived in the mean street with the so-called woodcarver
+and his wife? She was a widow, true, but widows of rank do not usually
+lodge in such humble places for pleasure. Then again, what was the
+mystery attaching to Irene? Would the tangled skein ever be unravelled?
+Time would show.
+
+Whichello Towers was more than a great house, it was a home, a northern
+liberty hall, surrounded by woods and big breezy moors. There was
+something for every one in this broad domain. A fine library full of
+rare editions of rare books, a museum of natural history specimens, a
+gallery of antiquities, a lake on which to skate or row, preserves in
+which to shoot, a grand ball-room with an old-world polished floor, a
+long corridor full of pictures and articles of vertu, and a beautiful
+music-room.
+
+Princess Nadine and I were much together, we talked of her little
+sister's school-days, but never of her latter ones, the subject was
+evidently tabooed.
+
+General Trakoff (a stern, military man who had once been governor of the
+penal settlement of O----) was evidently devoted to the beautiful Russ,
+and I found myself hoping that she would not become "Madame la
+Générale," for though the general was the very pink of politeness, I
+could not like him.
+
+I had spent a happy fortnight at the Towers when the incident occurred
+which will always remain the most vivid in my memory. A sudden and
+severe frost had set in. All the trees turned to white coral, the lake
+was frozen stone hard. There were naturally many skating parties
+organised, and in these Nadine and I generally joined. One morning,
+after we had been skating for nearly half an hour, the princess averred
+herself tired, and said she would stand out for a time. The general
+declared that he would also rest awhile, and the two left the lake
+together, and stood watching the skaters at the edge of the pine wood.
+
+By-and-by I too grew a little weary, and thought I would go for a stroll
+by myself through the woods I loved so much. The air was fresh and keen,
+squirrels jumped about in the trees, and the storm-cock sang blithely.
+Through an opening in the glade I saw the princess and the general
+chatting _en tête-à-tête_.
+
+As I came up the former was saying, in a tone of earnest raillery:
+
+"Now, tell me, general, is there nothing you regret doing, or having
+allowed to be done, when you were administrator of O----?"
+
+She spoke with a strange, almost tragic, earnestness, and when her
+companion replied:
+
+"No, on my honour, princess."
+
+She bowed gravely. A moment later, with a careless laugh, she opened a
+gold bonbonnière full of chocolate caramels, and held it temptingly
+towards him.
+
+He hesitated, and as he did so I put my arm through the branches, and
+with a playful:
+
+"By your leave, princess," attempted to help myself.
+
+Nadine started, and closed the box with a snap, a strange pallor coming
+over her white, set face. The general looked gravely at her, and then,
+raising his hat, with a "Till we meet again," walked leisurely away.
+
+I must own to being slightly offended, I was childishly fond of
+chocolate, and the act seemed so inexplicably discourteous. We walked to
+the house in silence, neither of us speaking, until we reached the side
+entrance. Here the princess paused by the nail-studded oaken door, and
+said:
+
+"There will come a day when things done in secret will be declared upon
+the housetops, then (if not before) you will know the secret of the gold
+bonbonnière. Say, 'Forgiven, Nadine.'"
+
+And I said it with my hand in hers.
+
+How glad I was afterwards that I had done so.
+
+
+II.
+
+THE PASSING OF NADINE.
+
+
+Throughout the great house of Whichello Towers there was a hush.
+Soft-footed servants went to and fro, all the guests save Estella and I
+went away with many condolences. The Princess Nadine was passing away
+in the room overlooking the pine woods. She had been thrown from her
+horse whilst hunting with the Whichello hounds, and the end was not far
+off.
+
+I was sitting in the library with a great sadness in my heart, when the
+door opened, and Canon Manningtree, the white-haired rector of
+Whichello, came into the room.
+
+"Miss Dene," he said gravely, "in the absence of a priest of the Greek
+Church, I have ministered to Princess Milontine. She is going to meet a
+merciful Saviour who knows her temptations, and the singular
+circumstances in which she has been placed. She desires to see you. Do
+not excite her. Speak to her of the infinite love of God. Will you
+please go to her _now_."
+
+Weeping, I went.
+
+Sitting beside the sufferer was Maura, who rose when I came in, and left
+us two alone, save for that unseen Angel who calls us to the presence of
+our God.
+
+The princess looked at me with her beautiful wistful eyes, as she had
+looked when she gave me the amber roses in the narrow street.
+
+"Gloria, little sister, I am going to tell _how_ Irene died."
+
+"No, no, not if it distresses you."
+
+"I would rather tell you. Listen! I have not much time to speak. As you
+know, we are of a noble Russian family, and Irene and I were the only
+children. I was ten years older than Irene, and was educated in France;
+she came to England, and was your schoolmate!
+
+"I was passionately fond of the child I had seen an infant lying in her
+pink-lined cot, and when she came out and married Prince Alex Laskine, I
+prayed that God's sunshine might light on my darling's head. Then, I
+myself married, and travelled with my husband in all kinds of strange,
+out-of-the-way places; in one of which he died, and I came back to St.
+Petersburgh, a childless, lonely widow!
+
+"But there was no Irene; her husband had been implicated in a plot, and
+had been sent to O----, one of the most desolate places in Siberia, and
+my sister had voluntarily accompanied him!
+
+"When I heard this, I never rested until I too was en route to Siberia!
+I wanted to take Irene in my arms and to console her as her dead mother
+would have done. O---- was a fearful place, just a colony of dreary huts
+by the sea. Behind were the wolf-infested forests; in the midst of it,
+the frowning fortress prison! When I showed my ukase, and demanded to
+see my relations, they simply showed me two graves. Irene and Alex
+rested side by side, in the silent acre, and an exile told me _how_ they
+had died! Alex had been knouted for refusing to play the part of Judas,
+and had passed away in the fortress. Irene was found dead inside their
+small wooden hut, kneeling beside her bed. Her heart had broken! My
+little Snow Flower had been crushed under the iron heel of despotism.
+
+"He by whose mandate this iniquity was done was General Loris Trakoff,
+the governor of the province! I was turned to stone by Irene's grave,
+and afterwards became a partisan of the Nihilists.
+
+"Night and day I pondered upon how I could be revenged upon Trakoff, and
+at last Fate seemed to favour me.
+
+"The general (so it was reported) was coming to visit a former friend of
+his. I made up my mind to be there also, and to shoot him, if
+opportunity served.
+
+"So, two members of our society, a young mechanic and his wife, rented a
+house in Cherry-Tree Avenue, to which I came, and whilst waiting for my
+revenge I became acquainted with you."
+
+She paused, whispered, "The restorative," and I gave her the medicine.
+
+The sweet, faint voice spoke again.
+
+"I knew that you were Irene's friend because I saw your name upon the
+letter that I picked up, and I loved you, Gloria, aye, and was sorry for
+you."
+
+I laid my cheek next hers.
+
+"Dear, I knew it, and was fond of you."
+
+"Fond of the Nihilist Princess, my little English Gloria! 'Tis a strange
+world!
+
+"After all, the general did not come, and then we all left. I bided my
+time. No outsider knew me for a _Révolutionnaire_, so I mixed in society
+as before, and accepted the invitation to Whichello, on purpose to meet
+him here.
+
+"The bonbonnière was filled with poisoned caramels, prepared by a
+Nihilist chemist, and it was my intention to destroy myself after I had
+destroyed my enemy. I gave him one chance; I asked him if he repented of
+anything, and he answered 'No.'
+
+"At the great crisis your little hand, as a hand from another world--as
+Irene's hand might have done--came between us.
+
+"Your coming saved him. I could not let you share his fate."
+
+"Oh, thank God!" I said. "Nadine, tell me--tell God, that you are sorry,
+that you repent your dreadful purpose."
+
+"I do, I do," she whispered. "Lying here I see all the sins, the errors,
+the mistakes. I do not despair of God's mercy though I am myself
+deserving of His wrath. Irene used to tell me that when she fell asleep,
+in the new world of school life, it was in your arms. Put them round me,
+Gloria, and let me fall asleep."
+
+I placed my arm gently, very gently, under her head, and then sat very
+still.
+
+I heard the big clock in the clock-tower slowly and distinctly strike
+the hour of twelve, I saw the pale lips move and heard them murmur:
+"Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere mei."
+
+But save for this, all was silence! And in the silence Princess Nadine
+slept.
+
+
+
+
+MY YEAR AT SCHOOL.
+
+BY MARGARET WATSON.
+
+
+I was rather old to start out as a school-girl, for I was seventeen, and
+had never been to school before.
+
+We lived in the heart of the country, and my education had been rather
+casual--broken into now for a day's work, and now for a day's play, now
+for visitors staying in the house, now for a visit to friends or
+relations; as is the way when you are one of a large family, and do your
+lessons at home--especially if your tastes lie rather in the line of
+doing than thinking.
+
+I did not love books. I loved gardening and riding the pony, and making
+cakes, and minding the baby. My sisters were much cleverer than I, and I
+had never believed it possible that I could excel in anything requiring
+study, so I satisfied myself with being rather clever with my hands.
+
+However, I didn't really mind work of any kind, and I worked at my
+lessons when I _was_ at them, though I was always ready enough to throw
+them aside for anything else that might turn up. When my mother said I
+must go away to a good school for a year I was quite willing. I always
+loved a change.
+
+The school chosen was a London High School, and I was to board with some
+people we knew. They had no connection with the school, so I was thrown
+pretty much on my own resources, and had to find my way about for
+myself.
+
+I had to go up first for the entrance exam., and I shall never forget my
+feelings that day. The headmistress had a sharp, quick manner, and I
+thought she set me down as very stupid for my age. I was put in a room
+with a lot of girls, mostly younger than myself, and given a set of
+exam. papers to do. The way the questions were put was new to me, I was
+nervous and worried, but I worked on doggedly with the courage of
+despair, certain that I was showing appalling ignorance for a girl of
+seventeen, and that I should be placed in a form with the babies.
+
+Two very pretty girls were working beside me. They had curly black hair,
+and bright complexions, and lovely dark eyes, and there was a fair girl,
+who wrote diligently all the time, and seemed in no difficulty. When it
+was over I asked her how she had got on, and she said she had found it
+quite easy, and answered most of the questions. We compared notes, and I
+saw that if she was right I must be wrong, and as she was quite sure she
+was right I went home very despondent indeed, but determined to work my
+way up from the bottom if need be.
+
+Next morning I hardened my heart for what was to befall me, and started
+for school. I had to go by omnibus, and found one that ran just at the
+right time.
+
+I was met at the school entrance by a tall, thin, small-featured lady,
+who wore glasses, and spoke in a sharp, clear voice, but quite kindly,
+telling me that I was in the Fifth Form, and my desk was that nearest
+the door.
+
+There was a good deal of crush and confusion as there were a lot of new
+girls, and I sat at my desk and wondered whether the Fifth Form was the
+highest or the lowest. I could hardly believe I was in the highest form,
+but the other girls sitting at the desks looked as old as myself. The
+two pretty dark girls were there, but I saw no sign of the fair girl who
+had worked so easily.
+
+I sat and watched for her, and presently she came in, but she was moved
+on to the form behind. She was in the Fourth Form, and I heard her
+name--Mabel Smith.
+
+I had a good report at the end of the first term, and went home
+happy--very happy to get home again, for I had never been so long away
+before, and I found my little brothers grown out of knowledge. But the
+Christmas holidays were soon over, and I went back in a cold, snowy
+week; and London snow is a miserable spectacle, not like the lovely pure
+white covering which hides up all dirt and ugliness in the country.
+
+However, I knew my way about by this time, and found my old familiar bus
+waiting for me, and the conductor greeted me with great friendliness. He
+was a most kind man, and always waited for me as long as he could.
+
+This term we had a new mistress for mathematics, and I didn't like her a
+bit.
+
+I was always very slow and stupid at mathematics, and the new mistress
+was so quick, she worked away like lightning, and I _could_ not follow
+her. She would rush through a proposition in Euclid, proving that some
+figure was, or was not equal to some other figure, and leave me stranded
+vainly trying to understand the first proof when she was at the last,
+and I _couldn't_ care, anyhow, whether one line could be proved equal to
+another or not, I felt it would be much simpler to measure it and have
+done with it. It was the same in arithmetic; she took us through
+innumerable step-fractions with innumerable steps, just as fast as she
+could put the figures down, and all I could do was to stare stupidly at
+the blackboard and hope that I might be able to worry some sense out of
+it all at home; and she gave us so much home-work that I had to toil
+till after ten at night, and then had to leave my sums half done, or
+neglect my other work altogether.
+
+I was slow and stupid, I knew, but the others all suffered too, though
+not so much, and presently complaints were made by all the other
+mistresses that their work was not done, and all the girls had the same
+reason to give, the arithmetic took so long.
+
+So Miss Vinton made out a time-table for our prep., and said we were to
+leave off when the time was up, whether we'd finished or not. It was a
+great relief, my hair was turning grey with the work and worry! But I
+did not get on at all with mathematics, and in the end of term exam. I
+came out very badly in that and in French.
+
+As most of us had done badly in those subjects our poor madame and the
+mathematical mistress did not come back next term.
+
+Miss Vinton gave us mathematics herself, and a splendid teacher she was,
+letting some daylight even into my thick head, which was not constructed
+for that kind of work, and her sister gave us French, and we really
+began to make progress. Some of the girls had done well before, those
+who sat near madame and talked to her, but most of us had not learnt
+much from her.
+
+Altogether it was with regret that I saw the end of my school-year
+drawing near; and I was very anxious to do well in the final exams.
+
+They were to be rather important, as we were to have a university
+examiner, and there were two prizes offered by people interested in the
+school, one for the best literature paper, and one for the best history.
+I _did_ want a prize to take home.
+
+There was great excitement in the school, and we all meant to try our
+best. The Fourth and Fifth Forms were to have the same papers, so as to
+give the Fourth Form girls a chance for the prize, and Mabel Smith said
+she was determined to win that offered for literature.
+
+The exam. week began. Geology, arithmetic, Latin, French, German. We
+worked through them all conscientiously but without much enthusiasm.
+Then came the literature, you could hear the girls hold their breaths as
+the papers were given to them.
+
+I read the questions down the first time, and my head spun round so that
+I could not understand one.
+
+"This won't do," I said to myself, and set my teeth and clung to my desk
+till I steadied down. Then I read them through again.
+
+I found one question I could answer right away, and by the time I had
+done that my brain was clear, and I knew the answers to every one.
+
+Alice Thompson was sitting next me, she was one of the pretty dark
+girls, and very idle.
+
+"What's the date of Paradise Lost?" she whispered.
+
+I didn't know what to do. I wouldn't speak, and of course I knew that it
+was very mean of her to ask, but I was sure of the date, and I thought
+it would be mean of me not to tell her. Just then Miss Vinton walked up
+the room and glanced round at us.
+
+Alice bent over her work, writing diligently. Miss Vinton went down the
+room again, and Alice edged up to me, questioning me with her pretty
+dark eyes.
+
+I hesitated, then I pushed the sheet I had just finished close to the
+edge of my desk so that she could read the date, which she did quickly
+enough. After that she looked over my papers freely whenever Miss Vinton
+wasn't looking.
+
+I was rather worried about it, but I didn't think she could win the
+prize, for I knew she hadn't worked at the subject at all, and if she
+didn't I thought it couldn't matter much to any one.
+
+I had answered all the questions a good while before the time was up, I
+thought we had been allowed too long, and was surprised to see Mabel
+Smith and one or two more scribbling away for dear life till the last
+minute. However, the time was up at last, and we all gave in our papers.
+
+"How did you get on, Margaret?" asked Miss Vinton, smiling kindly at me.
+
+"I think I answered all the questions right," I replied.
+
+"That's good," she said.
+
+The history paper was given us next day, and it filled me with despair.
+The questions were so put that short answers were no use, and I was
+afraid to trust myself to write down my own ideas. However, after a bit
+the ideas began to come, and I quite enjoyed scribbling them down.
+
+Alice had been moved to another desk, so I was left in peace, for
+Joyce, who was a friend of mine, was next to me, working away quietly.
+
+I was getting on swimmingly, when all at once the bell rang, and I had
+only answered three quarters of the questions.
+
+I _was_ vexed, for I could see one or two more I could have done.
+However, there was no help for it. The papers must be given up.
+
+"I wish I had had a little more time," I said to Miss Vinton, as I gave
+in my work.
+
+"You had as much as the rest," she answered, rather sharply, and I went
+away feeling sad and snubbed.
+
+The exams. were over, and we were to know the result next day.
+
+I don't think any of us wanted that extra half hour in bed in the
+morning, which generally seemed so desirable; and we were all waiting in
+the cloak-room--a chattering throng, for discipline was relaxed on this
+occasion. When the school-bell rang, and we hurried in to take our
+places, Miss Vinton made us a speech, saying that the general results of
+the examinations had been very satisfactory. Our term's work had been on
+the whole good.
+
+We could hardly listen to these general remarks when we were longing for
+particulars. At last they came:
+
+Alice Thompson was awarded the literature prize. Her work was so very
+accurate, and her paper so well written.
+
+There was a silence of astonishment.
+
+Alice turned scarlet. I felt horrified to think what mischief I had done
+by being so weak-minded as to let her copy my work. Mabel Smith was
+white. But Miss Vinton went on calmly:
+
+"Mabel Smith comes next. Her paper was exceptionally well written, but
+there were a few blunders which placed it below Alice's."
+
+Then came Nelly, Joyce, and the rest of the Fifth Form, and one or two
+of the Fourth--and I began to get over the shock of Alice's success and
+to wonder what had happened to me. At last my name came with just half
+marks.
+
+My cheeks were burning. I was dreadfully disappointed and ashamed. Miss
+Vinton saw what I was feeling and stopped to explain that the examiner
+had not wanted mere bald answers of dates and names, but well-written
+essays, showing thought and intelligence. This was how I had failed,
+while Alice, cribbing my facts, had worked them out well, and come out
+first. I felt very sore about it, and almost forgot the injustice done
+to Mabel Smith.
+
+There was still the history prize, and a hush of excited expectation
+fell on us when Miss Vinton began again:
+
+"The history prize has been awarded to Nelly Gascoyne for a very good
+paper indeed. Margaret and Joyce have been bracketed second. Their
+papers were excellent, and only just behind Nelly's in merit."
+
+I gasped with surprise. I had left so many questions unanswered that I
+had had no hope of distinction in history.
+
+This was some consolation for my former disgrace--and then my mind went
+back to the question of what was to be done about the literature prize.
+
+As soon as the business of the morning was concluded Mabel Smith touched
+my arm. She was still quite white, and her eyes were blazing.
+
+"I must speak to you," she said.
+
+"Come to the cloak-room," I answered, "we can get our books after."
+
+"You _know_ Alice Thompson cheated," she said, the moment we were alone.
+"I sat just behind, and I saw you push your papers over to her, and she
+leant over, and copied whatever she wanted."
+
+"I never dreamt she'd get the prize," I answered, "I only wanted to help
+her out of a hole."
+
+"Well, she _did_ get it--and it's my prize, and what are you going to do
+about it?"
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure. Of course I oughtn't to have let her copy--but
+I thought it wouldn't hurt any one."
+
+"You'll have to tell Miss Vinton now. It's not fair I should be cheated
+out of the prize I've honestly won, and I'd worked so hard for it too.
+I can't think how I came to make those mistakes."
+
+"I wish to peace you hadn't!"
+
+"But, anyhow, Alice could never have got it if she hadn't cheated, and
+you must tell Miss Vinton."
+
+"Oh! that's too much," I cried. "It's for Alice to tell Miss Vinton, I
+can't. I'm willing to tell Alice she must."
+
+"And if she won't?"
+
+"Then I don't quite see what's to be done."
+
+"You'll let her keep my prize?"
+
+"Well, you can tell Miss Vinton if you like."
+
+"It's you that ought to tell her. It was all your fault, you'd no right
+to help Alice to cheat."
+
+"I know that's true. But it makes it all the more impossible for me to
+tell on her."
+
+Just then Alice came in:
+
+"Oh, Margaret!" she cried.
+
+Then she saw Mabel and stopped.
+
+"Are you going to tell Miss Vinton you cheated?" said Mabel, going up to
+her with flaming eyes.
+
+"_Margaret_, did you tell?" said Alice.
+
+"I saw you!" said Mabel, "I sat just behind and saw you! You're not
+going to try to keep my prize, are you?"
+
+"No, of course not," said Alice, "I never thought of getting the prize.
+I only wanted to write a decent paper and not have Miss Vinton pitching
+into me as usual. You're welcome to the prize, if that will do."
+
+Mabel said nothing.
+
+"I'm afraid that won't quite do," I said. "It would be too difficult for
+Mabel to explain at home without telling on you. You'd much better tell
+on yourself."
+
+"I can't," said Alice, "I'm as sorry as I can be, now, that I did
+it--but I can't face Miss Vinton."
+
+She looked ready to cry.
+
+"Well, I shall have to confess too," I said. "It was partly my fault.
+Let us go together."
+
+"I daren't," said Alice.
+
+But I could see she was yielding.
+
+"Come along," I said, taking her arm. "It's the only way out. You know
+you won't keep Mabel's prize, and it's as bad to keep her honour and
+glory. This is the only way out. Let's get it over."
+
+She came then, but reluctantly.
+
+Fortunately we found Miss Vinton alone in her room, and between us we
+managed to stammer out our confession.
+
+Miss Vinton, I think, was not surprised. She had feared there was
+something not quite straight. But she was extremely severe with us both,
+as much with me as with Alice, and as it was to be my last interview
+with her I was heart-broken.
+
+However, I lingered a moment after Alice, and then turned back and said:
+
+"Please forgive me, you can't think how sorry I am."
+
+"Remember, Margaret," she replied, "that it is not enough to be
+honourable in your own conduct--you must as far as possible discourage
+anything dishonourable in other people. I know you would not cheat
+yourself, but if it is wrong to cheat, it is equally wrong to help some
+one else to cheat--don't you see? Will you remember this in future--in
+big things as well as in small? You must not only do right yourself.
+Your influence must be on the right side too. Certainly, I forgive you.
+You've been a good girl all this year, and I'm sorry to lose you."
+
+So I went away comforted.
+
+And I came home with never a prize to show. But I had what was better. I
+had acquired a real love of study which I have never lost. I don't know
+what became of Alice Thompson, I only hope that she never had to earn
+her living by teaching. Nelly Gascoyne went home to a jolly family of
+brothers and sisters and gave herself up to the pleasures and duties of
+home. Joyce became assistant mistress in a school, and Mabel followed up
+her successes at school by winning a scholarship at Cambridge a year
+later.
+
+And I--well, I've never come in first anywhere, but I'm fairly contented
+with a second place.
+
+
+
+
+THE SILVER STAR.
+
+BY NELLIE HOLDERNESS.
+
+
+Maysie Grey had set her heart on the Drawing Society's Silver Star. She
+kept her ambition to herself as a thing too audacious to be put into
+words. That she possessed talent, the school fully recognised. She was
+only thirteen, and by dint of steady perseverance was making almost
+daily progress. Her painting lessons were a source of unmixed pleasure
+to her, for hers was a nature that never yielded to discouragement, and
+never magnified difficulties.
+
+"You must aim at the Bronze Star this year," her science mistress had
+said to her, while helping her to fix the glass slides she was to paint
+from, under the microscope, "and next year you must go on to the
+Silver----"
+
+"Look, how beautiful the colours are!" Maysie exclaimed in delight. The
+delicate, varying tints fascinated her. She set to work with enthusiasm,
+never having done anything of the kind before. "'Mycetozoa,' do you call
+them?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. Be sure you spell it rightly."
+
+The next day, when the first of her three sheets was finished, Miss
+Elton came in to examine it. Though she said little, she was evidently
+more than satisfied. It was nearly tea-time, and Maysie spent the few
+minutes before preparation was over in tearing up some old drawings.
+After breakfast, on the following morning, before the bell rang for
+class, she went over to Ruth Allen's desk to ask her how to spell
+"Mycetozoa." Ruth was her particular chum, and the best English scholar
+in the form.
+
+"I've got something to show you, Maysie," she said, when she had
+furnished the desired information. She brought out a piece of paper as
+she spoke, and passed it on to her friend behind the cover of her open
+desk. It was a fragment of one of Maysie's zoological drawing-sheets,
+evidently picked up out of the waste-paper basket--a wasp with wings
+outspread, showing the three divisions of an insect's body. The head was
+roughly altered so as to form a caricature of a human face, and above
+was printed, in letters that might have done credit to Maysie herself:
+"Miss E. in a tantrum," and below: "How doth the little waxy wasp
+rejoice to snap and snarl!"
+
+Maysie did not share Ruth's unreasonable animosity towards Miss Elton,
+but she could not repress a smile at this specimen of school-girl wit.
+Just then the bell rang, and she went back to her own desk, while Ruth,
+letting the lid of hers slip down, was so startled by the noise it made
+in the sudden silence that she did not see a piece of paper flutter out
+on to the ground, and gently glide underneath the platform of the
+mistress's desk, which was just in front of her.
+
+That morning Maysie began her second sheet, and joined the others in the
+garden after dinner. Molly Brooks, another of her friends, came eagerly
+running up to her.
+
+"Why didn't you come to botany?" she asked.
+
+"I've been doing my exhibition work."
+
+"Oh, of course! I suppose it's nearly finished?"
+
+"About half. It hasn't to be sent off till next week, so there's plenty
+of time."
+
+At that moment Ruth Allen linked her arm in Maysie's.
+
+"I'm in my third row," she began casually.
+
+"What, already?" asked Maysie.
+
+"Yes, haven't you heard?" Molly chimed in.
+
+"Oh, it's Miss Elton again!" went on Ruth. "We never can hit it off. You
+weren't at botany class this morning."
+
+"No, what happened?"
+
+Ruth shrugged her shoulders. Molly looked expressively at Maysie. Ruth
+seldom got through a botany class without an explosion.
+
+"I hate botany," said Ruth recklessly, "and I hate Miss Elton. I'm
+supposed to be in silence now, but as Miss Bennet came in and told us
+all to go out, I thought I'd better not risk another disobedience mark."
+
+Miss Elton, who had been stooping down over some flower-beds, in search
+of museum treasures, came up at this point. Her face was grave and
+white, and her manner very stern and quiet.
+
+"What are you doing out here, Ruth?" she demanded.
+
+"Miss Bennet sent us all out; she said it was such a lovely day,"
+answered Ruth carelessly.
+
+"Then you can go and explain to Miss Bennet why I told you to remain in
+this afternoon."
+
+Ruth looked at Miss Elton, and then looked away; she slowly withdrew her
+arm from Maysie's, and walked off without a word. At the door she came
+face to face with Miss Bennet, the headmistress.
+
+"Where are you going to, Ruth?" asked the latter.
+
+"Miss Elton sent me in."
+
+"Why?" There was grave rebuke in Miss Bennet's voice.
+
+"Because I'm in silence."
+
+"I do not understand why you were out at all."
+
+Ruth made no attempt to defend herself.
+
+"You'd better come to my room," continued Miss Bennet. "There is
+something here that needs explaining.... Now, what were you in silence
+for?" she continued, seating herself in her chair by the fire.
+
+"I got sent out of botany class."
+
+"And how many times have you been sent out of botany class?"
+
+Ruth did not answer.
+
+"Well, it has come to this, Ruth," Miss Bennet went on gravely, "that a
+girl of your age--you are fourteen now, I believe--can no longer be
+allowed to go on setting an example of insolence and disobedience to the
+younger girls in the school. Now, remember, this is the last time. Let
+me have no more complaints about you, or it will be my unpleasant duty
+to write to your mother, and tell her that you cannot remain here."
+
+There was a pause. The colour had left Ruth's face, and she was staring
+moodily into the fire.
+
+"You will apologise to Miss Elton," added Miss Bennet, rising, "and you
+will remain in silence at meals for the rest of the week. And try to
+make an effort over your botany. Your other work is good: you were top
+last week. Now, promise me that you will make an effort."
+
+Ruth, moved to penitence at the thought of her mother, promised to do
+her best. That afternoon she apologised to Miss Elton, and made a
+resolution to keep out of rows for the rest of the term. Maysie and she
+walked about in the garden as usual, and talked things over. Maysie
+looked grave when Ruth told her what Miss Bennet had said about sending
+her away.
+
+"Oh, Ruth!" she said, "you really must be careful! Why, if you got
+expelled, it would be almost as bad for me as if I were expelled myself.
+Miss Elton's awfully nice, if you only knew. I had such a lovely talk
+with her on Sunday, all about home, and drawing. And then she's so jolly
+at games, and she's never cross when you don't cheek her. And think how
+horrid it must be for her whenever she comes to botany class, always
+knowing that you're going to be dense! And you do do it on purpose
+sometimes, dear, you know you do."
+
+Ruth forced a laugh.
+
+"Oh, I'm going to be awfully good," she said. "You'll see!"
+
+It was Saturday the next day, and Maysie was just settling down to her
+drawing in the music-room, when Miss Elton appeared. Maysie looked up
+and smiled at her. It was no unusual thing for her science-mistress to
+come in and remark on her progress. But on this occasion no answering
+smile greeted her. Maysie was puzzled. Her inquiring grey eyes fell
+before Miss Elton's; she began to search her conscience. What had she
+done?
+
+"I think it is a pity, Maysie," began Miss Elton, "that you put your
+talents to such an improfitable use."
+
+As she spoke she laid before Maysie the paper that Ruth had exhibited to
+her in such triumph the day before. Maysie grew scarlet, and remained
+quite speechless. Her name up in the corner, the neat, even printing, so
+like her own, the altered diagram that Miss Elton had seen in its
+original form--they stared her in the face, condemning her beyond hope
+of appeal. She raised her head proudly, and tossed back the thick curly
+hair that hung over her shoulder.
+
+"Where did it come from?" she asked.
+
+"I picked it up from under the edge of my platform, but that is of no
+concern."
+
+"But, Miss Elton----" stammered Maysie, growing suddenly confused.
+
+"You have no excuse," put in Miss Elton, and her voice was all the
+harder because of the disappointment that she felt. "This is a piece of
+your paper, is it not?"
+
+Maysie admitted that it was.
+
+"And your diagram?"
+
+"Yes; at least----"
+
+"Is it, or is it not?"
+
+Maysie's voice was very low.
+
+"Yes, it is," she said.
+
+Silence ensued, a brief, awkward silence. It was at this moment that
+Maysie made up her mind. She would not clear herself at the expense of
+her chum! Ruth should not be expelled through her!
+
+Miss Elton believed _her_ guilty; she would not undeceive her.
+
+Miss Elton waited with her eyes on Maysie's paintings.
+
+They were done as no other girl in the school would have done them, but
+the thought afforded her no satisfaction, though she had always
+prophesied great things of Maysie. Then she glanced at the child's
+downcast face.
+
+"I am sorry about this, Maysie," she said, with the faintest suspicion
+of reproach in her voice, "I thought we were better friends."
+
+A lump came into Maysie's throat, and the tears into her eyes. She
+looked at the microscope, at the tiny glass slides, at her unfinished
+sheet; but she had nothing to say.
+
+"Of course," continued Miss Elton, "I shall have to show it to Miss
+Bennet. This comes, no doubt, of your friendship with Ruth. I have
+always said that she would do you no good."
+
+Maysie listened with a swelling heart. Supposing Ruth should be sent
+for, and hear the whole story? Miss Elton was at the door; she ran up to
+her in desperation.
+
+"Miss Elton," she faltered, "don't say anything to the girls, will you?"
+
+Miss Elton made no promise. The petition made her think no better of
+Maysie.
+
+The Fourth Form girls soon discovered that Maysie was in trouble, but no
+one could get anything out of her. Ruth was forbidden to join her in
+recreation, but on Sunday evening she managed to get a few minutes' talk
+with her.
+
+"Do tell me what the row's about, Maysie," she said.
+
+"Oh, nothing much," said Maysie. "Do let's talk about something else."
+
+"But I always thought you liked Miss Elton?"
+
+"So I do. Can't you get into a row with a mistress you like?"
+
+"Well, I'd apologise, if I were you. She was very nice to me."
+
+"I can't, so it's no good." And Maysie sat silent, confronting this new
+difficulty with a sinking heart. For how could she apologise, she asked
+herself, for what she had never done?
+
+"Well, I think you might tell me," Ruth went on. "_I_ told you about my
+row; and what's the good of being chums if we can't keep each other's
+secrets?"
+
+But Maysie only sighed impatiently, and took up her library book.
+
+"I wish you'd hurry up and finish those paintings of yours, and come
+back properly to class," went on Ruth. "Aren't they nearly done?"
+
+Maysie grew white, and turned away her face.
+
+"I'm not going to try this year," she said.
+
+"Why, I thought----" began Ruth. "Oh, I see! What a shame!"
+
+Maysie choked down a sob. After a pause she said:
+
+"Perhaps I shall have more chance of a Star next year."
+
+"You'd have got one this!" said Ruth indignantly. "How mean to punish
+you like that! And it's the only thing you care about!"
+
+Maysie smiled. "Oh, never mind, dear," she said. "Everything seems mean
+to us. You don't understand."
+
+"But if you apologised it would be all right?"
+
+"I daresay it might, but I don't think so. Besides, they've got to be
+sent in by Wednesday, and I should hardly have time to do another
+sheet."
+
+Things went on like this until Monday evening. Though there was only one
+day left, Maysie made no attempt to apologise. Miss Elton gave her every
+opportunity, for she, too, hoped that Miss Bennet might thus be induced
+to allow Maysie to finish her exhibition work, even at the last moment.
+
+Maysie went to bed early that night. Her head had been aching all day,
+and by the time tea was over she could hardly hold it up. Ruth was
+greatly concerned about her, and, as a last resource, determined to
+speak to Miss Bennet.
+
+Maysie soon got into bed, and, being alone in the dormitory, hid her
+face under the bed-clothes and sobbed. She was terribly homesick, poor
+child, and now, for the first time, she began to doubt whether she had
+done right after all; whether it would not have been wiser to have taken
+Miss Bennet into her confidence, and trusted to her to set things right.
+And then, there was that Silver Star! And a year was such a long time to
+have to wait. But, thinking of Ruth, she grew ashamed of herself, and
+dried her tears, and tried to go to sleep, though it was still quite
+light out of doors.
+
+Ruth, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor in front of Miss Bennet's
+fire.
+
+"It's about Maysie, Miss Bennet," she was saying. "I don't understand
+what she has done, but I'm sure there must be some reason for her not
+apologising."
+
+Miss Bennet made no remark.
+
+"She's so fond of Miss Elton, too. I don't see how she could have meant
+to be rude to her."
+
+"I'm afraid there is not much doubt about that," was the answer.
+
+"It seems to me," went on Ruth nervously, "that there's some mystery
+about it. Maysie won't tell me anything."
+
+"Maysie has no reason to be proud of herself," replied Miss Bennet
+coldly.
+
+"It seems so horrid her not going in for the exhibition, and she's so
+good at painting."
+
+"There are various ways of making use of one's talents," said Miss
+Bennet, rising. "Now this----"
+
+Ruth jumped to her feet, and stood gazing. There, on Miss Bennet's
+writing-table, lay the identical scrap of paper that she had shown to
+Maysie the Friday before. "Miss E. in a tantrum!" There, too, was
+Maysie's name in the corner. In a moment everything was clear.
+
+"That!" she exclaimed. "Maysie didn't do that!"
+
+Miss Bennet looked at her doubtfully.
+
+"I did it!" she went on. "Oh, if I'd only known! Why didn't some one
+tell me about it?"
+
+"My dear child," began Miss Bennet.
+
+"Yes, I did it!" repeated Ruth passionately. "It's Maysie's drawing, but
+I altered it, I made up the words. Poor little Maysie! And she was so
+keen on trying for the exhibition! It's so horribly unfair, when I did
+it all the time!" She broke off with a sob, hardly knowing what she was
+saying.
+
+"But why----"
+
+"I didn't know, and of course she wouldn't sneak about me--catch Maysie
+sneaking! I told her I should be expelled if I got into another row."
+
+Miss Bennet tried to calm her.
+
+"Come, dear child," she said gravely; "if Maysie has been punished for
+your fault, we must do our best to set things right at once. Tell me how
+it happened."
+
+Ruth explained as well as she could.
+
+"And now Maysie's gone to bed," she added regretfully.
+
+"Then I will go up to her. You can go back to your class-room."
+
+Miss Bennet found Maysie asleep, with flushed cheeks, and eyelashes
+still wet with tears. She stooped down, and kissed her gently. Maysie
+opened her eyes with a sigh, and then sat up in bed. It had seemed
+almost as if her mother were bending over her. "I am going to scold you,
+Maysie," said Miss Bennet, but her smile belied her words.
+
+Maysie smiled faintly in answer.
+
+"Why have you allowed us to do you an injustice?"
+
+The child was overwrought, and a sudden dread seized hold of her.
+
+"Why--what do you mean, Miss Bennet?" she faltered.
+
+"Ruth has explained everything to me. It is a great pity this mistake
+should have been made----"
+
+Maysie interrupted her.
+
+"It was before she got sent out of class, Miss Bennet," she said. "Oh!
+don't be angry with her! Don't send her away, will you?"
+
+In her earnestness she laid her hand on Miss Bennet's arm. Miss Bennet
+drew her to her, and kissed her again.
+
+"Poor child!" she said. "So that's what you've been worrying your little
+head about. No, I won't send her away, Miss Elton tells me that she has
+improved already, and I am sure she will forgive her when she knows
+everything."
+
+Maysie thanked her with tears in her eyes.
+
+"And now, I have one other thing to say," Miss Bennet continued. "You
+must go to sleep at once, and wake up quite fresh and bright to-morrow
+morning, and you shall give up the whole day to your painting. What do
+you say to that?"
+
+"How lovely!" exclaimed Maysie. "I shall get it done after all! Thank
+you very, very much, Miss Bennet. Oh, I am so happy!" And she put her
+arms round Miss Bennet's neck, and gave her an enthusiastic hug.
+
+Maysie worked hard at her "Mycetozoa" the next day, and finished her
+third sheet with complete success. Some weeks afterwards, Miss Bennet
+sent for her to her room.
+
+"I am glad to be able to tell you, Maysie," she said, "that you have
+gained the Drawing Society's Silver Star."
+
+Maysie drew a long breath; her heart was too full for words. The
+_Silver_ Star! Could it be true?
+
+Ruth was one of the first to congratulate her.
+
+"I always said you'd get it, dear," she remarked as they walked round
+the garden together. "And I'm just as glad as you are about it. I
+haven't forgotten that it was through me you nearly lost the chance!"
+
+Maysie returned the pressure of Ruth's hand without answering. Was not
+the Silver Star the more to be prized for its association in thought
+with those hours of lonely perplexity that she had gone through for the
+sake of her friend?
+
+
+
+
+UNCLE TONE.
+
+BY KATE GODKIN.
+
+
+"Mother darling! Is Uncle Tone really coming to see us at last? I heard
+you tell father something about it," I said to my mother as she sat by
+my couch, to which I had been tied for some weeks in consequence of a
+cycling accident.
+
+I had broken my leg, but had now so far recovered as to be able to move
+cautiously with a stick. It was the first illness that I could remember,
+and I was an only child, much loved, and I suppose much spoiled by the
+most indulgent of fathers and mothers. I therefore made the most of my
+opportunities and called freely on their resources for entertainment.
+
+"Yes, love, I am happy to say he is. He has not been here now since you
+were quite a little girl, eight years ago. You were just eight."
+
+"Mother," I continued coaxingly, for I loved a story, "why are you so
+fond of him, he is only your step-brother?"
+
+"Step-brother!" she exclaimed. "He has been more than a brother to me.
+He has been a father, far far more," she added sadly, "than my own
+father was. He is, you know, nearly twenty years older than I."
+
+"Will you tell me something about it?" I asked softly.
+
+It was twilight in July, and I lay at the open French window which led
+from the drawing-room to the lawn, and from which we had a view across
+the park, far out over the country, bounded by the twinkling lights of
+Southampton in the distance, for our house was situated on an elevation
+in one of the loveliest spots in the New Forest. Dinner was over and
+father was in the library clearing off some pressing work, as he had to
+leave home for a day or two. It seemed to me the very time for
+reminiscences.
+
+"I think I will," said my mother slowly and thoughtfully.
+
+She was a small, graceful woman, of about forty then, whose soft, dark
+hair was just beginning to be touched with grey, but her face was as
+fresh and dainty-looking as a girl's; a strong, sweet face that I loved
+to look at, and that now, that she is no longer with me, I love to
+remember.
+
+"You ought to know what he did for your mother, and how much you owe him
+indirectly. I should like him, too, to feel that he has his reward in
+you."
+
+My curiosity was excited, for I had never heard my mother speak like
+that before, and so I settled myself to listen, and to enjoy what she
+had to say.
+
+"My childhood was a very wretched one, Cora," she began. "For that
+reason I have spoken little of it to you, but endeavoured, assisted by
+your father, to make yours the very opposite to it as far as lay in my
+power, and that I could do so is due, I may say wholly, to your Uncle
+Tone, who taught me to be happy myself, and to endeavour to make others
+so."
+
+I slipped my hand into my dear mother's; she was the best, most loving,
+and wisest mother that ever lived.
+
+"My mother died when I was born," she continued, "and my father took his
+loss so to heart that he shut himself off from all society, grew silent
+and morose, and," she added after some hesitation, "became in time a
+drunkard."
+
+She brought these words out with such an effort, such difficulty, that
+the tears came to my eyes, and I whispered, "Don't go on, mother
+darling, if it hurts you." She continued, however, without appearing to
+notice my interruption.
+
+"I ran wild till I was twelve or thirteen years of age, I had no society
+but my father's and the servants', and I got no regular education. He
+would not send me to school, but the vicar's daughter came over for an
+hour or two every day to teach me what I could be induced to learn,
+which was little enough. I was hot-tempered, headstrong, self-willed,
+accustomed to fight for what I wanted, getting nothing by any other
+means, and doing without what I could not get in that way. No softening,
+no refining influence came into my life. My one pleasure even then was
+music. I had a passion for it. Miss Vincent, the vicar's daughter,
+taught me to play the piano, and I used to spend hours in the deserted
+drawing-room, playing what I knew, and picking out tunes by myself,
+while my father was shut up in his study. We had no near relation, no
+one who cared enough to take pity on an unruly, troublesome, little
+girl, with a drunken father. When I was between twelve and thirteen he
+died, and a godmother who lived in Scotland took charge of me, and sent
+me to a boarding-school, at which I spent the next four years. Schools
+were not then what they are now, particularly in Scotland, and between
+the time spent there and the holidays with Miss Clark, who was a stern,
+old maid and a confirmed invalid, my life was very dreary; I was
+becoming harder, and harder. I did not know in fact that I had any
+feelings; they were not cultivated amongst the people who had to do with
+me. She, also, died before I was seventeen, and then something happened
+which was to change my whole life. My step-brother, whom I had never
+seen, wrote to Miss McDougall, with whom I was at school, saying that my
+home would, henceforth, be with him. Your Uncle Tone was my father's son
+by his first marriage, and when his father married my mother, Tone went
+to live with his maternal grandfather, who, on his death, left him the
+beautiful place in Derbyshire to which I was to go. He lived there with
+an old aunt. This news affected me very little; I had never had a happy
+home, a real home; I did not know what that was, but I presumed I should
+go somewhere on leaving school.
+
+"My love of music had, in the meantime, increased. I had had a very good
+master, a real musician, and I had worked hard for him. To me it was a
+delight, but I never thought nor cared that it could give pleasure to
+any one else. I used to shut myself up for hours in the holidays, out of
+hearing of my godmother, who seldom left her room, and play, and play,
+till my arms ached.
+
+"I remember well the day he came for me. I was ready, waiting, when the
+maid brought me the message that Sir Tone Wolsten was in the
+drawing-room. He was standing on the hearth-rug talking to Miss
+McDougall, and looked so tall to me. He is over six feet. I can see him
+now as he stood there, erect, broad-shouldered, with bright chestnut
+hair, clear, keen, dark blue eyes, and bronzed skin, a strong, kind,
+fearless face. He looked a thorough man, one to be trusted. He greeted
+me very kindly as his little sister, and took me home with him. Goldmead
+Park was the loveliest place I had ever seen. His Aunt Evangeline, whom
+I also called 'aunt,' was a frail, querulous old lady, whom he treated
+as his mother. He did not marry till after her death, five years later.
+I was planted in entirely new surroundings, with everything pleasant
+about me, everything that I could desire, or ought to have desired. Your
+uncle was kindness itself. He taught me to ride and to drive, supplied
+me with books, took the greatest interest in me; but the restrictions of
+every well-ordered home which would have been nothing to a properly
+trained girl were unendurable to me. I resisted from sheer perverseness
+and dislike of control. I do not mean to say that I was always
+ill-tempered; I was lively and merry enough, and your uncle used to
+tease me, and jest with me, which I enjoyed very much, and responded to
+willingly.
+
+"Some weeks had passed like this, my step-brother being most kind and
+indulgent. Frequently Aunt Evangeline had asked me to play to them in
+the evening after dinner, but I had refused obstinately. I liked to play
+to myself, but I had never been accustomed to do so before any one, and
+it never entered my head that it could give them pleasure, or that I was
+bound to do it out of politeness. At last she became more irritable and
+frequently made sarcastic remarks about the young people of the present
+day. This happened again one evening, and I answered sharply, not to say
+rudely.
+
+"The next morning I wandered through the woods belonging to the park,
+gathering violets, and had sat down, hot and tired, under a lovely
+chestnut, with my lap full of flowers which I was arranging and tying up
+in bunches in order to carry them home more easily. I heard footsteps,
+which I recognised by their briskness and firmness, and looking up I saw
+my brother approach, walking, as usual, erect, with his head well thrown
+back but with stern lines in his face which I had not seen there before.
+I looked up smiling, expecting his usual kind greeting, but instead of
+that he strode straight up and stopped in front of me.
+
+"'I was just thinking of you, Elfie,' he said, looking down at me, 'I
+have something to say to you which I can as well say here as any place
+else. I don't know why you should be so unamiable and discourteous to my
+aunt, as you are, and I cannot allow it to continue. I will say nothing
+of your manner to me. You receive here nothing but kindness. My great
+desire is to make you happy, but it does not seem as if I succeeded very
+well. At any rate, Aunt Evangeline must not be made uncomfortable, and I
+should be doing you a wrong if I allowed you to behave so rudely.'
+
+"'Why can't she leave me alone?' I exclaimed angrily, 'I don't want to
+play to her.'
+
+"'One does not leave little girls alone,' he answered calmly and
+sternly, 'and such behaviour from a young girl to an old lady is most
+unbecoming. It must come to an end, and the sooner the better!
+To-night,' he continued in a tone that made me look up at him, 'you will
+apologise to my aunt and _offer_ to play.'
+
+"'I shall do nothing of the sort!' I exclaimed, turning crimson.
+
+"'Oh yes, you will,' he answered quietly, 'I am accustomed to be obeyed,
+and I don't think my little sister will defy me.'
+
+"And with that he strode away, leaving me in a perfect turmoil of angry
+feelings. I jumped up, scattering my lapful of violets, and started to
+walk in the opposite direction. At lunch we met, he ignored me
+completely, but I did not care, I felt hard and defiant.
+
+"After dinner, he conducted Aunt Evangeline to the drawing-room as
+usual, and as soon as she was seated he turned and looked at me, and
+waited. I made no move, though I felt my courage, which had never before
+forsaken me, ebb very low. He waited a few moments, and then said in a
+tone, which in spite of all my efforts I could not resist:
+
+"'Now, Elfie!'
+
+"I rose slowly, with his eyes fixed on me all the time, crossed the room
+to Aunt Evangeline, and stopped in front of her. 'I am sorry, Aunt
+Evangeline, that I have been so rude to you,' I said in a low, trembling
+voice. 'If you wish, I will play to you now.'
+
+"I felt as if it were not I myself, but some one outside me that was
+moving and speaking for me. I wished not to do it, but I was compelled
+by my brother's force of will, as much as if I had been hypnotised.
+
+"'Do, dear, do!' the old lady exclaimed kindly and eagerly. 'I am so
+fond of music, we both are, and we rarely have any one here who can
+play.'
+
+"I chose a piece in which I could give vent to the stormy feelings
+raging within me. When I had finished I rose from the piano.
+
+"'Thank you, dear,' she exclaimed. 'That was a treat!'
+
+"'Such a treat,' remarked my brother, 'that it is hard to understand the
+discourtesy and want of amiability that have deprived us of it so long.
+Play something else, Elfie!' This was said quietly, but I was as
+powerless to resist as if it were the sternest command.
+
+"So I played three or four more pieces at his request, and then getting
+up, took my work and sat down in silence at some distance from them,
+while they 'talked music' In about half an hour he turned to me again
+and asked me to play a particular piece which they had been discussing.
+'Perhaps she is tired,' suggested Aunt Evangeline kindly.
+
+"'It does not tire her to play for hours by herself,' was the quiet
+rejoinder.
+
+"I went to the piano in a mutinous, half desperate mood, thinking I
+would go on till they were sick of it, so I played on and on. Presently
+I forgot them, got lost in my music, and as usual my angry feelings died
+away. I had no idea how long I had been playing when I became conscious
+of a feeling of emotion I had never experienced before. I felt my heart
+swell and my face flush, and with a sudden sob I burst into tears. I was
+more startled than they were, for I had never, as far as I could
+remember, shed a tear except with anger, and this was certainly not
+anger. I started up and was about to leave the room hastily, when Tone
+said in the same calm tone:
+
+"Stay here, Elfie, you have no need to be ashamed of those tears.'
+
+"At home I should have rushed from the room, banging the door after me:
+I could give myself no account of my reason for going and sitting down
+quietly instead; I did so, nevertheless, though I could not suppress my
+sobs for some time. At last I became, outwardly at least, calm.
+
+"Aunt Evangeline always retired to her room about nine o'clock, and at
+first I did the same, but then my brother detained me for a game of
+chess which he taught me to play, and to talk about some books that he
+had given me to read, so that we usually sat together till ten o'clock.
+That night, however, I had no mind to sit alone with him for an hour, so
+I turned to say good-night as aunt was leaving the room. He held the
+door open for her, bade her 'good-night,' and then closed it as
+deliberately as if he had not seen my outstretched hand. He then turned
+to me, and took it, cold and trembling as it was, in his own firm, warm
+grasp, but with no intention of letting me go. Holding it, he looked
+searchingly, but with a kind smile, into my face.
+
+"'Is this revenge or punishment, Elfie?' he asked.
+
+"'I don't know what you mean,' I exclaimed in confusion.
+
+"'My game of chess?'
+
+"'You won't want to play with me to-night, and I can't play either,' I
+said, pressing my disengaged hand to my hot forehead. 'My stupidity
+would try your patience more than ever.'
+
+"'You must not say that,' he replied quietly, 'you are not stupid, and
+as I have never felt the slightest shade of impatience, I cannot have
+shown any. You play quite well enough to give me a very good game, but I
+daresay you cannot to-night. One wants a cool, clear head for chess. Let
+us talk instead.' So saying he led me to the chair aunt had just left,
+put me in it, and drew his own chair nearer.
+
+"'I don't want you to go to your room feeling lonely and upset,' he
+said, 'I should like to see your peace of mind restored first. I should
+like you to feel some satisfaction from the victory you have won over
+your self-will to-night.'
+
+"'The victory, such as it is, is yours!' I blurted out, looking away.
+
+"'You say that,' he replied very gently, 'as if you thought it a poor
+thing for a man to bully a young girl. Don't forget, Elfie, that I am
+nearly old enough to be your father, that, in fact, I stand in that
+position to you--I am your only relative and protector--that _I_ am
+right and _you_ are wrong, and above all that it is for your own sake
+that I do it. Poor child! you have had far too little home life and home
+influence. I want you to be happy here, but the greatest source of
+happiness lies in ourselves. What Milton says is very true, "The mind is
+its own place, and in itself can make a hell of heaven, a heaven of
+hell." You cannot be happy and make those around you happy, as long as
+you are the slave of your will. A strong will is one of the most
+valuable gifts we can have, but it must be our servant, not our master,
+or it will prove a curse instead of a blessing. It must be under our
+control, or it will force us to do things of which our good sense, good
+feeling, and our consciences all disapprove. We must be able to use it
+_against_ ourselves if need be. You are nearly grown up, Elfie, and
+still such an undisciplined child! What you will not learn with me and
+let me teach you in the next two or three years, the world will teach
+you very harshly later. We none of us can go through life, least of all
+a woman, doing what we like, knocking against every one as we go along.
+We get very hard knocks back, and they hurt. We miss, too, the best
+happiness that life can give. It contains none to equal that of making
+other people happy. As we treat them, they treat us.
+
+"'It is not in the least your fault, little one,' he added very kindly,
+'you have had no chance of being different. You have, I am afraid,
+received very little kindness, but help me to change all this. Don't
+think for a moment that I want to subdue your will to mine, that I want
+forced obedience to my wishes--that is the last thing I desire. I want
+to place _your_ will under _your_ control. I forced you to do to-night
+what I wanted, to make a beginning, to show you it was possible, to let
+you feel the pleasure of being agreeable, to stir some gentler, softer
+feelings in you. They came, much to your surprise, though not to mine.
+We all have them, and it is not good to crush them.'
+
+"While he was talking, a strange, subdued feeling came over me, such as
+I had never known before. He spoke gently and impressively, in a deep,
+soft tone peculiar to him when very much in earnest. I felt I wanted to
+be what he wished me to be, to do what he wanted, and this sensation was
+so new to me, that I could not at all understand it. I felt impelled to
+tell him, but I was ashamed. I had never in my life been sorry for
+anything I had done, still less acknowledged a fault. It was a new and
+strange experience, I felt like a dumb animal as I raised my eyes
+piteously to his.
+
+"'What is it, little one? You want to say something, surely you are not
+afraid?' he asked gently.
+
+"'Forgive me, Tone,' I gasped, as two big tears rolled down my cheeks,
+'I am sorry.'
+
+"'I am glad to hear you say you are sorry,' he said, taking my hand,
+'but between us there is no question of forgiveness. I have nothing to
+pardon, I am not angry, I want to help you.'
+
+"'I never felt like this before,' I muttered, 'I don't understand it,
+but I will try to do what you want.'
+
+"'You feel like this, Elfie, because you know that I am right, and that
+I only want what is good for you. I want you to be happy, to open your
+heart to the kindness we wish to show you, and to encourage feelings of
+kindness in yourself towards other people. When you feel hard, and
+cross, and disobliging, try to remember what I have been saying, and let
+me help. Even if I have to appear stern sometimes, don't misunderstand
+it.'
+
+"He then talked about my mother, my home, told me something of my father
+as _he_ had known him, until he actually succeeded in making me feel
+peaceful and happy.
+
+"From that day he never for a moment lost sight of the object he had in
+view. He had me with him as much as possible, for long walks, rides and
+drives. With infinite patience but unvarying firmness, he helped me
+along, recognising every effort I made, appreciating my difficulties,
+never putting an unnecessary restriction on me. So he moulded and formed
+my character, lavishing kindness and affection on me in which, I must
+say, Aunt Evangeline was not far behind, awakening all that was best and
+noblest in my nature, never allowing simple submission of my will to
+his.
+
+"On my wedding-day, as we were bidding each other 'Good-bye!' he said:
+
+"'You will be happy now, little sister, I know it. You have striven
+nobly and will have your reward.'
+
+"'The reward should be yours, Tone, not mine,' I answered, as I put my
+arms round his neck and kissed him.
+
+"Do you wonder now, Cora, that I love him so dearly, though he is my
+step-brother?" my mother asked as she concluded, "and that I should like
+him to see that I have endeavoured to do for you what he did for me?"
+
+
+
+
+A NIGHT ON THE ROAD.
+
+BY MARGARET WATSON.
+
+
+The summer holidays had begun, and I was to travel home alone from
+Paddington to Upperton.
+
+I was quite old enough to travel alone, for I was fourteen, but it so
+happened that I had never taken this journey by myself before. There was
+only one change, and at Upperton the pony-cart would be waiting for me.
+It was all quite simple, and I rather rejoiced in my independence as my
+cab drew up under the archway at Paddington. But there my difficulties
+began.
+
+There was a raging, roaring crowd going off for holidays too. The cabman
+demanded double the legal fare. It was a quarter of an hour before I
+could get a porter for my luggage, and then I had almost to fight my way
+to the ticket-office. When at last I had got my ticket the train was due
+out.
+
+"Jump in anywhere," said the porter; "I'll see that your luggage goes."
+
+The carriages were crammed full. I raced down the platform till I saw
+room for one, and then tore open the door, an sank into my seat as the
+train steamed out of the station.
+
+I looked round for sympathy at my narrow escape, but my
+fellow-travellers were evidently one party. They looked at me coldly, as
+at an unwelcome intruder, and drew more closely together, discussing the
+day's doings; so I curled up in my corner and gave myself up to
+anticipations of the holidays.
+
+These were so engrossing that I took no count of the stations we passed
+through. I was just picturing to myself the delights of a long ride on
+the pony, when, to my amazement the stopping of the train was followed
+by the loud exhortation:
+
+"All change here!"
+
+"Why, where are we?" I asked, looking up bewildered.
+
+"At Lowford," replied one of my fellow-passengers.
+
+But they gathered up their parcels, and swept out of the carriage
+without a question as to my destination.
+
+I seized on a porter.
+
+"How did I get here?" I asked him; "I was going to Upperton. What has
+happened?"
+
+"Upperton, was you?" said the man. "Why, you must ha' got into the slip
+carriage for Lowford. I s'pose 'twas a smartish crowd at Paddin'ton."
+
+"It was," I replied, "and I hadn't time to ask if I was right. I suppose
+my luggage has gone on. But what can I do now? How far is it to
+Upperton? Is there another train?"
+
+"Well, no, there ain't another train, not to-night. It's a matter of
+fifteen mile to Upperton by the road."
+
+"Which way is it?"
+
+"Well, you couldn't miss it, that goes straight on pretty nigh all the
+way. You've only got to follow the telegraph-postes till you comes to
+the "Leather Bottle," and then you turns to the right."
+
+"I know my way from there."
+
+"But you could never walk all that way to-night. You'd better by half
+stay at the hotel, and go on by rail in the morning."
+
+"I'll wire to them at home to drive along the road and meet me, and I'll
+walk on till they do."
+
+"Well, it's fine, and I dessay they'll meet you more'n half way, but
+'tis a lonely road this time o' night."
+
+"I'm not afraid," said I, and walked off briskly.
+
+I bought a couple of buns in a baker's shop, and went on to the
+telegraph office--only to be told it was just after eight o'clock, and
+they could send no message that night.
+
+I turned out my pockets, but all the coins I had were a sixpenny and a
+threepenny piece--not enough to pay for a night's lodging, I was sure.
+The cabman's extortion, and a half-crown I had given to the porter at
+Paddington in my haste, had reduced me to this.
+
+What should I do? I was not long deciding to walk on. Perhaps they would
+guess what had happened at home and send to meet me. The spice of
+adventure appealed to me. If I had gone back to the porter he would
+probably have taken me to the hotel, and they would have trusted me. But
+I did not think of that--I imagine I did not want to think of it. I had
+been used to country roads all my life, and it was a perfect evening in
+late July.
+
+My way lay straight into the heart of the setting sun as I took the
+road. In a clear sky, all pale yellow and pink and green, the sun was
+disappearing behind the line of beech-covered hills which lay between me
+and home, but behind me the moon--as yet only like a tiny round white
+cloud--was rising.
+
+I felt like dancing along the road at first. The sense of freedom was
+intoxicating. The scent of wild honeysuckle and cluster roses came from
+the hedgerows. I ate my buns as I walked along; I had made three and a
+half miles by the milestones in the first hour, and enjoyed every step
+of the way.
+
+"If they don't meet me," I thought, "how astonished they will be when I
+walk in! It will be something to brag of for many a day, to have walked
+fifteen miles after eight o'clock at night."
+
+The daylight had faded, but the moon was so bright and clear that the
+shadows of my solitary figure and the "telegraph-postes" were as black
+and sharp as at noonday. Bats were flitting about up and down. A white
+owl flew silently across the road. Rabbits were playing in the fields in
+the silver light. It was all very beautiful, but a little lonely and
+eerie. I hadn't passed a house for a mile.
+
+Then I heard wheels behind me.
+
+If it were some kind person who would give me a lift!
+
+But I heard a lash used cruelly, and a rough, hoarse voice swearing at
+the horse.
+
+I hurried on, but of course the cart overtook me in a minute.
+
+The man pulled up. He leaned down out of the cart to look at me, and I
+saw his coarse, flushed face and watery eyes.
+
+"Want a lift, my dear?" he asked.
+
+"No, thank you," I answered, "I much prefer walking."
+
+"Too late for a gal like you to be out," he said; "you jump up and drive
+along o' me."
+
+"No, thank you," I repeated, walking on as fast as I could.
+
+He whipped his horse on to keep pace with me; then, leaning on the
+dashboard, he made as though he would climb out of the cart. But just at
+that moment a big bird rustled out of the hedge--the horse sprang aside,
+precipitated his master into the bottom of the cart, and went off at a
+gallop. Very thankful I was to see them disappear into the distance!
+
+I was shaking so with fear that I had to sit down on a stone heap for a
+while.
+
+I pulled myself together and started on again, but all joy was gone from
+the adventure--there seemed really to be too much adventure about it.
+
+Three miles, four miles more I walked; but they did not go as the first
+miles had gone. It was eleven o'clock, and I was only halfway; at this
+rate I could not be home before two in the morning. If they had been
+coming to meet me they would have done so before this. They must have
+given me up for the night, every one would be in bed and asleep, and to
+wake them up in the small hours would frighten them more than my not
+coming home had done.
+
+Moreover, the long road over the hill and through the woods was before
+me. The thought of the moonlit, silent woods, with their weird shadows,
+was too much for me; I looked about for a place of refuge for the night.
+
+I soon found one.
+
+A splendid rick of hay in a field close to the road had been cut.
+Halfway up it there was a wide, broad ledge--just the place for a bed.
+I did not take long to reach it, and, pulling some loose hay over myself
+in case it grew chilly at dawn, I said my prayers--they were real
+prayers that night--and was soon asleep in my soft, fragrant bed.
+
+The sun woke me, shining hot on my nest. I looked at my watch, it was
+six o'clock. Thrushes and blackbirds were singing their hearts out,
+swallows were darting by, high in air a lark was hovering right above my
+head, with quivering wings, singing his morning hymn of praise. I knelt,
+up there on the hayrick, and let my thanks go with his to heaven's gate.
+
+I had never felt such a keen sense of gratitude as I did that summer
+morning: the dangers of the night all past and over, and a beautiful new
+day given to me, and only seven miles and a half between me and home.
+
+'Tis true that I was very hungry, but I started on my way and soon came
+to a cottage whose mistress was up giving her husband his breakfast. She
+very willingly gave me as much bread-and-butter as I could eat, and a
+cup of tea. I did not quarrel with the thickness of the bread or the
+quality of the butter, or even with the milkless tea--I had the poor
+man's sauce to flavour them.
+
+When she heard my story, the woman overwhelmed me with pity and regrets
+that I had not reached her house overnight and slept there. But I did
+not regret it. I would not have given up my "night on the road" now it
+was over for worlds.
+
+She was grateful for the sixpence I gave her--having learnt wisdom, I
+reserved the threepenny bit--and I went on.
+
+The air was delicious, with a spring and exhilaration in it which
+belongs to the early morning hours. The sunlight played hide-and-seek in
+the woods. Patches of purple heath alternated with lilac scabious and
+pale hare-bells. The brake ferns were yellow-tipped here and there--a
+forewarning of autumn--and in one little nook I found a bed of luscious
+wild strawberries. My heart danced with my feet, and I wondered if the
+tramps ever felt as I did, in the summer mornings, after sleeping out
+under a hedge.
+
+I reached home by nine o'clock, and then there was a hubbub, and a
+calling out of, "Here's Muriel!" "Why, Muriel, where have you sprung
+from?" "What happened last night? We were so frightened, but they told
+us at the station that it was an awful crowd at Paddington, and you must
+have missed the train, and of course we thought you would go back to
+Miss Black's, but you ought to have wired."
+
+It was ever so long before I could make them believe that I had been out
+all night, and slept in a hayrick; and then mother was almost angry with
+me, and father told me if ever I found myself in such a predicament
+again I was to go to a respectable hotel and persuade them to take me
+in. But he said he would take very good care that no child of his should
+ever be in such a predicament again. But I could not be sorry, the
+beginning and the end were so beautiful.
+
+
+
+
+THE MISSING LETTER.
+
+BY JENNIE CHAPPELL.
+
+
+The Briars was a very old-fashioned house, standing in its own grounds,
+about ten miles from Smokeytown. It was much dilapidated, for Miss Clare
+the owner and occupier, had not the necessary means for repairing it,
+and as she had lived there from her birth--a period of nearly sixty
+years--did not like to have the old place pulled down. Not more than
+half the rooms were habitable, and in one of them---the former
+dining-room--there sat, one January afternoon, Miss Clare, with her
+young nephew and niece. They were having tea, and the firelight danced
+cosily on the worn, once handsome furniture, and the portly metal
+teapot, which replaced the silver one, long since parted with for half
+its value in current coin. The only modern article in the room,
+excepting the aforesaid nephew and niece, was a pretty, though
+inexpensive, pianoforte, which stood under a black-looking portrait of a
+severe-visaged lady with her waist just under her arms, and a general
+resemblance, as irreverent Aubrey said, to a yard and a half of pump
+water.
+
+Just now Miss Clare was consuming toast in silence, and Kate was
+wondering if there was any way of making bows that had been washed twice
+and turned three times look like new; while Aubrey's handsome head was
+bent over a book, for he was addicted to replenishing mind and body at
+the same time. Suddenly Miss Clare exclaimed, "Dear me; it is fifty
+years to-day since Marjorie Westford died!"
+
+Kate glanced up at the pump-water lady, with the laconic remark,
+"Fancy!"
+
+"It's very likely that on such an interesting anniversary the fair Miss
+Marjorie may revisit her former haunts," said Aubrey, raising a pair of
+glorious dark eyes with a mischievous smile; "so if you hear an
+unearthly bumping and squealing in the small hours, you may know who it
+is."
+
+"The idea of a ghost 'bumping and squealing,'" laughed Kate. "And Miss
+Marjorie, too! The orthodox groan and glide would be more like her
+style." Then her mind wandered to a story connected with that lady,
+which had given rise to much speculation on the part of the young
+Clares. Half a century ago there lived at the Briars a family consisting
+of a brother and two sisters; the former a gay young spendthrift of
+twenty-five; the girls, Anna, aged twenty, and Lucy, the present Miss
+Clare, nine years old respectively. With them resided a maiden sister of
+their mother's, Marjorie Westford, an eccentric person, whose property
+at her death reverted to a distant relative. A short time before she
+died she divided her few trinkets and personal possessions between the
+three young people, bequeathing to Anna, in addition, a sealed letter,
+to be read on her twenty-first birthday. The girl hid the packet away
+lest she should be tempted to read it before the appointed time; but ere
+that arrived she was drowned by the upsetting of a boat, and never since
+had the concealed letter been found, although every likely place had
+been searched for it. Lucy never married, and George had but one son,
+whose wife died soon after the birth of Kate, and in less than a year he
+married again, this time to a beautiful young heiress, subsequently
+mother to Aubrey, who was thus rather more than two years Kate's junior.
+
+The younger George Clare, a spendthrift like his father, speedily
+squandered his wife's fortune, and died, leaving her with barely
+sufficient to keep herself and little son from want. Yet such was Mrs.
+Clare's undying love for the husband who had treated her so badly, that
+in their greatest straits she refused to part with a locket containing
+his likeness and hers which was valuable by reason of the diamonds and
+sapphires with which it was encrusted. This locket was the only thing
+she had to leave her little Aubrey when she died, and he, a lovely boy
+of nine summers, went with his half-sister (who had a small sum of money
+settled on her by her maternal grandfather) to reside with their
+great-aunt, Miss Clare.
+
+Presently the quietness at the tea-table was disturbed by a loud single
+knock at the front door, and Aubrey bounced out of the room.
+
+"A note from Mr. Green," he said, returning. "I wonder what's up now? No
+good, I'm afraid."
+
+This foreboding was only too fully realised. The agent for Miss Clare's
+little property at Smokeytown wrote to tell her that during a recent
+gale one of her best houses had been so much injured by the falling of a
+factory chimney, that the repairs would cost quite £30 before it could
+again be habitable. This was a dire misfortune. So closely was their
+income cut, and so carefully apportioned to meet the household expenses,
+that, after fullest consideration, Miss Clare could only see her way
+clear for getting together about £15 towards meeting this unexpected
+demand, and three very anxious faces bent around the table in
+discussion.
+
+Presently Aubrey slipped away and ran upstairs to his own room. He then
+lit a candle, and pulling a box from under an old horse-hair chair,
+unlocked it, taking out a small morocco case, which, when opened,
+revealed something that sparkled and scintillated even in the feeble
+rays of the cheap "composite." It was the precious locket, placed in his
+hands by his dying mother four years before. Inside were two exquisite
+miniatures on ivory--the one a handsome, careless-looking man, the
+other, on which the boy's tender gaze was now fixed, was the portrait of
+a lady, with just such pure, bright features, and sweet, dark-grey eyes
+as Aubrey himself.
+
+"Mother, my own darling," he murmured, pressing the picture to his lips,
+"how _can_ I part with you?" And dropping his head on the hard, prickly
+cushion, by which he knelt, he cried in a way that would considerably
+have astonished the youths with whom he had, a few hours earlier,
+engaged in a vigorous snowball fight. They only knew a bright, mirthful
+Aubrey Clare, the cleverest lad in his class, and the "jolliest fellow
+out;" none but Kate had any idea of the deepest affections of his boyish
+heart, and she truly sympathised with her half-brother in his love for
+the only portrait and souvenir remaining of the gentle creature who had
+so well supplied a mother's place for her. Something in Aubrey's face
+when he left the room had told her of his thoughts, so presently she
+followed him and tapped at the half-open door. Obtaining no answer, she
+entered, and saw the boy kneeling before the old chair with his head
+bent. The open case lay beside him, and Kate easily guessed what it was
+held so tightly in his clenched hand. She stooped beside him, and
+stroked his wavy hair caressingly as she said, "It can't be that,
+Aubrey."
+
+"It must," replied a muffled voice from the chair cushion.
+
+"It _sha'n't_ be," said Kate firmly. "I've thought of a plan----"
+
+But Aubrey sprang to his feet. "See here, Katie," he said excitedly, but
+with quivering voice; "I've been making an idol of this locket. It ought
+to have gone before, when aunt lost so much money by those Joneses; but
+you both humoured my selfishness."
+
+"Being fond of anything, especially anything like that, isn't making an
+idol of it, I'm sure," said Katie.
+
+"It is if it prevents you doing what you ought, I tell you, Katie; it's
+downright dishonest of me to keep this," he continued, with burning
+cheeks, "living as I am upon charity, and aunt so poor. I see it plainly
+now. Mr. Wallis offered to buy it of me last summer, and if he likes he
+shall have it now."
+
+"He is gone to Rillford," said Kate, in whose mind an idea was beginning
+to hatch.
+
+"He'll be back on Saturday, and then I'll ask him. It won't be _really_
+losing mamma's likeness, you know," he added, with a pathetic attempt at
+his own bright smile. "Whenever I shut my eyes I can see her face, just
+as she looked when----" but he was stopped by a queer fit of coughing
+and rubbed the curl of his hair that always tumbled over his forehead;
+so Katie couldn't see his face, but she knew what the sacrifice must
+cost him, and, girl-like, exalted him to a pedestal of heroism
+immediately; but when she would have bestowed an enthusiastic embrace,
+he slipped away from her and ran downstairs.
+
+Left alone, Kate stood long at the uncurtained window, gazing at the
+unearthlike beauty of the moonlit snow. When at last she turned away,
+the afore mentioned idea was fully fledged and strong.
+
+She found her hero with his nose ungracefully tucked into an uncut
+magazine, and his chair tilted at a perilous angle with the floor, just
+like any ordinary boy, and felt a tiny bit disappointed. Presently she
+turned to the piano, which was to her a companion and never failing
+delight. She had a taste for music, which Miss Clare had, as far as was
+practicable, cultivated; and although Kate had not received much
+instruction, she played with a sweetness and expression that quite made
+up for any lack of brilliant execution. This evening her touch was very
+tender, and the tunes she played were sad.
+
+By-and-bye Katie lingered, talking earnestly with her aunt long after
+Aubrey had gone to bed; and when at last she wished her good-night, she
+added, anxiously, "Then I really may, auntie; you are sure you don't
+mind?"
+
+And Miss Clare said, "I give you full permission to do what you like,
+dear. If you love Aubrey well enough to make so great a sacrifice for
+him, I hope he will appreciate your generosity as he ought; but whether
+he does or not, you will surely not lose your reward. I am more grieved
+than I can tell you to know that it is necessary."
+
+Two days later, Aubrey was just going to tear a piece off the
+_Smokeytown Standard_ to do up a screw of ultramarine, when his eye was
+arrested by an advertisement which he read two or three times before he
+could believe the evidence of his senses; it was this,--
+
+"To be sold immediately, a pretty walnut-wood cottage pianoforte, in
+excellent condition, and with all the latest improvements. Price 15_l._
+Apply at 'The Briars,' London Road."
+
+He rushed upstairs to Kate, who, with her head adorned by a check
+duster, was busy sweeping (for they had no servant), and burst in upon
+her with, "What on earth are you going to sell it for?"
+
+There was no need to inquire what "it" was, and Kate, without pausing in
+her occupation, replied, "To help make up the money aunt wants."
+
+"But if Mr. Wallis buys the locket;" then the truth flashed upon him,
+and he broke off suddenly, "Oh, Katie, you're _never_ going to----"
+
+"Sell the piano because I don't want the locket to go," finished Katie,
+with a smile, that in spite of the check duster made her look quite
+angelic.
+
+Aubrey flew at her, and hugging her, broom and all, exclaimed,--
+
+"Oh, how _could_ you! You are too good; I didn't half deserve it. Was
+there ever such a darling sister before?" and a great deal more in the
+same strain, as he showered kisses upon her till he took away her
+breath, one moment declaring that she shouldn't do it and he wouldn't
+have it, and the next assuring her that he could never thank her enough,
+and never forget it as long as he lived. And Katie was as happy as he
+was.
+
+It was rather a damper, however, when that day passed, and the next, and
+no one came to look even at the bargain. Aubrey said that if no
+purchaser appeared before the following Wednesday, he should certainly
+go to Mr. Wallis about the locket; and it really seemed as if Katie's
+sacrifice was not to be made after all.
+
+Tuesday afternoon came, still nobody had been in answer to the
+advertisement. It was a pouring wet day, and Aubrey's holiday hung
+heavily on his hands. He had read every book he could get at, painted
+two illuminations, constructed several "patent" articles for Kate, which
+would have been great successes, but for sundry "ifs," and abandoned as
+hopeless the task of teaching Cæsar, Miss Clare's asthmatic old dog, to
+stand upon his hind legs, and was now gazing drearily out on the soaked
+garden, almost wishing the vacation over. Suddenly he turned to his
+sister, who was holding a skein of worsted for her aunt to wind,
+exclaiming, "Katie, I've struck a bright!"
+
+"What is it?" she asked, understanding that he had had an inspiration of
+some sort. "An apparatus for getting at nuts without cracking them; or a
+chest-protector for Cæsar to wear in damp weather?"
+
+"Neither; I'm going to rummage in the old bookcase upstairs, and see if
+I can come across anything fit to read, or an adventure." And not being
+in the habit of letting the grass grow under his feet (if vegetation was
+ever known to develop in such unfavourable circumstances), he bounded
+away; while Miss Clare observed, rather anxiously, "When that boy goes
+adventure-seeking, it generally ends in a catastrophe; but I don't think
+he can do much mischief up there."
+
+Ten minutes afterwards, Katie went to see how Aubrey was getting on, and
+found him doing nothing worse than polishing the covers of some very
+dirty old books with one of his best pocket-handkerchiefs. When she
+remonstrated with him, he recommended her to get a proper, ordained
+duster, and undertake that part of the programme herself. So presently
+she was quite busy, for Aubrey tossed the books out much faster than she
+could dust and examine them. Very discoloured, mouldy-smelling old books
+they were, of a remarkably uninteresting character generally, which
+perhaps accounted for their long abandonment to the dust and damp of
+that unused apartment. When the case was emptied, and the contents piled
+upon the floor, Aubrey said, "Now lend us a hand to pull the old thing
+out, and see what's behind."
+
+"Spiders," replied Katie promptly, edging back.
+
+"I'll have the satisfaction of a gentleman of the first spider that
+looks at you," said Aubrey, reassuringly. "Come, catch hold!"
+
+So Katie "caught hold;" and between them they managed to drag the
+cumbrous piece of furniture sufficiently far out of the recess in which
+it stood for the boy to slip behind. The half-high wainscoting had in
+one place dissolved partnership with the wall; and obeying an impulse
+for which he could never account, Aubrey dived behind, fishing out,
+among several odd leaves and dilapidated covers, a small hymn-book bound
+in red leather. Kate took it to the window to examine, for the light was
+fading fast. On the fly-leaf was written in childish, curly-tailed
+letters, "Anna Clare; July 1815," followed by the exquisite poetical
+stanza commencing,--
+
+    "The grass is green, the rose is red;
+    Think of me when I am dead,"
+
+which she read aloud to her brother. A minute afterwards, as she turned
+the brown-spotted leaves, there fell out a packet, a letter
+superscribed, "Miss Anna Clare; to be read on her twenty-first birthday,
+and when quite alone." Katie gasped, "Oh, look!" and dropped the paper
+as if it burned her fingers. Aubrey sprang forward, prepared to slay a
+giant spider, but when his eyes fell upon the writing which had so
+startled his sister, he too seemed petrified. They gazed fixedly into
+each other's eyes for a minute, then Aubrey said emphatically,--
+
+"It's _that_!" And both rushed precipitately downstairs, exclaiming,
+"Auntie, auntie, we've found it!"
+
+Now Miss Clare was just partaking of that popular refreshment "forty
+winks," and was some time before she could understand what had so
+greatly excited her young relations; but when at last it dawned upon
+her, she hastily brought out her spectacles, and lit the lamp, while
+every moment seemed an hour to the impatient children. When would she
+leave off turning the yellow packet in her fingers, and poring over the
+faded writing outside? At last the seal is broken, and two pairs of
+eager eyes narrowly watch Miss Clare's face as she scans the contents.
+
+"It _is_ the long-lost letter!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Where
+did you find it?"
+
+Both quickly explained, adding, "Do read it, auntie; what does Miss
+Marjorie say?"
+
+So in a trembling voice Miss Clare read the words penned by a dying hand
+fifty years before,--
+
+     "MY DEAREST ANNA,--I feel that I have but a short time
+     longer to live, and but one thing disturbs my peace. It is
+     the presentiment that sooner or later the thoughtless
+     extravagance of your brother George will bring you all into
+     trouble. It is little I can do to avert this calamity, but
+     years of economy have enabled me to save 280_l._ (which is
+     concealed beneath the floor in my room, under the third
+     plank from the south window, about ten inches from the
+     wall). I wish you, niece Anna, to hold this money in trust,
+     as a profound secret, and to be used _only_ in case of an
+     emergency such as I have hinted. In the event of none such
+     taking place before your sister is of age, you are then to
+     divide the money, equally between yourself, George and
+     Lucy, to use as you each may please. Hoping that I have
+     made my purpose clear, and that my ever trustworthy Anna
+     will faithfully carry out my wishes, I pray that the
+     blessing of God may rest richly on my nephew and nieces,
+     and bid you, dearest girl, farewell.
+
+                                           "MARJORIE WESTFORD.
+     "January 2nd, 1825."
+
+Miss Clare's eyes were dim when she finished these words, sounding, as
+they did, like a voice from the grave, while Kate and Aubrey sat in
+spellbound silence. The boy was the first to speak.
+
+"Do you think it is still there?"
+
+"There is no reason why it should not be," replied Miss Clare; "indeed
+it seems that this legacy, so strangely hidden for half a century, and
+as strangely brought to light, is to be the means by which our Father
+will bring us out of our present difficulties."
+
+"Get a light, Katie, and let's look for the treasure; that will be the
+best way of making sure that our adventure isn't the result of a
+mince-pie supper," suggested Aubrey, producing his tool-box.
+
+So they all proceeded to the room, now seldom entered, where Marjorie
+Westford breathed her last. It was almost empty, and the spot indicated
+in the letter was soon determined upon. Aubrey knelt down on the floor,
+and commenced, in a most unsystematic way, his task of raising the
+board; while Katie, trembling with excitement, dropped grease spots on
+his head from her tilted candlestick.
+
+Aubrey's small tools were wholly inadequate to their task, and many were
+the cuts and bruises his inexperienced hands received before he at
+length succeeded in prising the stubborn plank.
+
+There lay the mahogany box, which, with some trouble, owing to its
+weight, they succeeded in bringing to the surface. It fastened by a
+simple catch, and was filled with golden guineas.
+
+When Kate bade Aubrey good-night upon the stairs, he detained her a
+minute to murmur with a soft light in his dusky eyes,--
+
+"I'm so very, very glad your sacrifice isn't to be made, darling, but
+the will is just the same as the deed. I shall love you for it as long
+as you live; and better still," he added, with deepening colour and
+lowered voice, "God knows, and will love you too."
+
+
+
+
+"THE COLONEL."
+
+BY MARION DICKEN.
+
+
+Dick was only thirteen years of age, but he was in love, and in love too
+with Captain Treves's wife, who, in his eyes, was spick-span perfection.
+In their turn Mrs. Treves's two little boys, aged six and five
+respectively, were in love with Dick, who appeared to them to be the
+model of all that a schoolboy ought to be.
+
+It was in church on Easter Sunday that Dick first realised his passion,
+and then--as he glanced from Mrs. Treves to the captain's stalwart
+form--the hopelessness of it! He remarked, afterwards, to his brother
+Ted, a lieutenant in Treves's regiment, that Mrs. Treves looked
+"ripping" in grey. But Ted was busy with his own thoughts, in which, if
+the truth be told, the sermon figured as little as in those of his
+younger brother.
+
+Dick was on very friendly terms with the Treves and was rather surprised
+to find that the captain and his wife treated him more like a little boy
+than a "chap of thirteen--in fact, almost fourteen," as he put it to
+himself. He used to take Jack and Roy out on the river and to the baths,
+where he taught them both to swim. To use Ted's own expression to a
+brother-sub, "Dick was making a thorough nursemaid and tutor of himself
+to those kids of the captain's." He _was_ teaching them certainly,
+unconsciously, but steadily, a great many things.
+
+Jack no longer cried when he blistered his small paws trying to scull,
+and when Roy thought of Dick, or the "colonel," as they called him, he
+left off making grimaces at, and teasing, his baby sister, because Dick
+had answered carelessly when Jack once offered to fight him, "No thanks,
+old boy, I only hit a chap my own size." Roy recognised the difference
+between tormenting a girl and fighting a boy.
+
+About three weeks after Dick went back to school for the summer term,
+both the little Treves's fell ill, and Jack cried incessantly for "the
+colonel." Yet when kind old Colonel Duke came to see him one afternoon,
+and brought him some grapes, the child turned fretfully away and still
+cried, "'Colonel'; I want the 'colonel'!"
+
+"But, Jack dear, this is the colonel," remonstrated his mother, gently
+smoothing the crumpled pillow.
+
+But Jack still wailed fretfully, and would not be comforted.
+
+Colonel Duke happened to remark on the incident at mess that evening,
+and Ted Lloyd knitted his brows, as if trying to solve some mental
+mystery. The result of his cogitations was an early visit to Mrs. Treves
+next day.
+
+The children were worse. Roy was, indeed, dangerously ill; and neither
+his father nor mother could persuade Jack to take his medicine.
+
+"We cannot think whom he means by 'colonel'," added the poor lady
+despairingly.
+
+"That's just what I've come about, Mrs. Treves; they used to call my
+young brother that at Easter."
+
+"You are sure, Mr. Lloyd?"
+
+"Quite. I heard them myself more than once. I'll trot round and see the
+Mater, and we will wire for him if it will do any good."
+
+That afternoon Dick received a telegram which sent him off full speed to
+his housemaster for the necessary permission to go home.
+
+"Is Mater ill?" he asked breathlessly, as he bundled out of the train on
+to Ted, who bore the onrush heroically.
+
+"No, she's quite well, only Treves's kids are ill."
+
+"Well?" queried Dick rather indignantly, as he thought of the
+cricket-match on the morrow, in which he had hoped to take part.
+
+"Well, you see, Dick, they're seriously ill, and they can't make the
+little 'un take his physic."
+
+"Well, I can't take it for him, can I? queried Dick, as they started
+home.
+
+"Nobody wants you to, you little duffer. But the kids used to call you
+'colonel,' and now he keeps crying for you. Perhaps if you order him to
+take the physic, he will--that's all."
+
+"Oh!" briefly responded Dick.
+
+He was sorry to hear that his whilom chums, the "captain" and
+"lieutenant," were ill. But weren't kids always having something or
+other, and would he always be sent for to dose them? "Rot!"
+
+However, these thoughts abruptly left him, when, directly after tea, he
+went to the captain's and saw Mrs. Treves' pale and anxious face, and
+instead, his old allegiance, but deeper and truer, returned.
+
+"Thank you, Dick," she said kindly in reply to his awkward tender of
+sympathy. And then they went upstairs.
+
+By Jack's bed a glass of medicine was standing. A nurse was turning
+Roy's pillow, and Captain Treves stood by her, gnawing his long
+moustache.
+
+Just then Jack's fretful wail sounded through the room for "'Colonel!'
+Daddy, Jack wants the 'colonel'!"
+
+"I'm here, old man," said Dick, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
+"Drink this at once," he added, taking up the glass, as he remembered
+his brother's suggestion.
+
+But Jack had clutched Dick's hand and now lay back sleepily.
+
+Dick felt desperate. He glanced round. Captain and Mrs. Treves and the
+nurse were gathered round the other little white bed. Was Roy worse?
+With what he felt to be an unmanly lump in his throat, he leaned over
+the boy again.
+
+"Jack, I say, Jack" (hurriedly), "if you drink this you shall be a
+captain."
+
+Jack heard, and when Dick raised him up, he drained the glass.
+
+"But Roy, Dick, he's a captain?"
+
+"Roy shall be promoted too," replied Dick.
+
+And just then the captain left the other bed and came over to Jack. Dick
+could see Mrs. Treves bending over Roy, and the nurse leaving the room.
+He looked up and saw that there were actually tears in the captain's
+eyes. He had never seen a soldier cry before, and guessed what had
+happened. Roy had indeed been promoted. He would never again "play
+soldiers" with Jack or Dick.
+
+Jack was now sleeping quietly, and the doctor, who came in an hour
+later, pronounced him out of danger.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Goodbye, my boy. We thought you'd like Roy's watch as you were fond of
+him," said the captain next day; and then Mrs. Treves not only shook
+hands, but stooped and kissed him.
+
+Dick flushed, muttered some incoherent thanks, and went off to the
+station.
+
+Dick reached school in time for the cricket-match, after all; but, fond
+as he was of cricket, he absented himself from the ground that
+afternoon, and spent the time printing off some photos of "two kids," as
+a chum rather scornfully remarked.
+
+One of those "kids" is now a lieutenant in the regiment of which Dick is
+a captain, and, indeed, in a fair way to become a colonel--for the
+second time in his life.
+
+
+
+
+NETTIE.
+
+BY ALFRED G. SAYERS.
+
+
+Nettie was a bright, fair girl of fifteen years of age, tall and
+graceful in movement and form, and resolute in character beyond her
+years. She was standing on the departure platform of the L. & N. W.
+Railway at Euston Square, watching the egress of the Manchester express,
+or rather that part of it which disclosed a head, an arm, and a cap, all
+moving in frantic and eccentric evolutions.
+
+Tom, her brother, two years her senior, was on his way back to school
+for his last term, full of vague, if big, ideas of what he was going to
+be when, school days over, he should "put away childish things." "Most
+of our fellows," he had said loftily, as he stood beside his sister on
+the platform a few moments before, "go into the Army or Navy and become
+admirals or generals or something of that sort." And then he had hinted
+with less definiteness that his own career would probably combine the
+advantages of all the professions though he only followed one. But Tom
+soon dropped from these sublime heights to more mundane considerations,
+and his last words concerned a new cricket bat which Nettie was to
+"screw out of the gov'nor" for him, a new pup which she was to bring up
+by hand under his special directions, and correspondence, which on her
+part at least, was to be regular, and not too much occupied with details
+about "the kids."
+
+Nettie sighed as she turned her steps homewards, and her handkerchief
+was damped by at least one drop of distilled emotion that bedewed the
+rose upon her cheek. Poor Nettie, she too was conscious of a destiny,
+and had bewildered thoughts of what she was going to be! She had opened
+her heart on this subject to her brother Tom during the holidays; but
+she had not received much encouragement, and at the present moment she
+was inclined to murmur at the reflection that the world was made for
+boys, and after all she was only a girl.
+
+"What will you be?" Tom had said in answer to her question during one of
+their confidential chats. "You? why, you--well, you will stay with the
+mater, of course."
+
+"Yes; but girls do all sorts of things nowadays, Tom," she had replied.
+"Some are doctors, some are authors, some are----"
+
+"Blue-stockings," responded the ungallant Tom. "Don't be absurd, Net,"
+he added patronisingly; "you'll stay with the pater and mater, and some
+day you will marry some fellow, or you can keep house for me, and then,
+when I am not with my ship or my regiment, of course I shall be with
+you."
+
+Poor Nettie! She had formed an idea that the possibilities of life ought
+to include something more heroic for her than keeping house for her
+brother, and she had determined that she would not sink herself in the
+hum-drum of uneventful existence without some effort to avoid it; and so
+it happened that that same evening, after doing her duty by the baby pup
+and Tom's new cricket bat, she startled her father and mother by the
+somewhat abrupt and altogether unexpected question,--
+
+"Father, what am I going to be?"
+
+"Be?" repeated her father, drawing her on to his knee, "why, be my good
+little daughter as you always have been, Nettie. Are you tired of that,
+dear?"
+
+But no, Nettie was not tired of her father's love, and she had no idea
+of being less affectionate because she wanted to be more wise and
+useful, and so she returned her father's caresses with interest, and
+treated her mother in the same way, so that there might be no jealousy;
+and then, sitting down in the armchair with the air of one commanding
+attention, harked back to the all-absorbing topic. "You know, father,
+there's Minnie Roberts, isn't there?"
+
+"What if there is?" replied her father.
+
+"Well, you know she's going to the University, don't you, dad?"
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+"Well, she is. Then she'll be a doctor, or professor, or something.
+That's what I should like to be."
+
+Mr. Anderson looked from his wife to his daughter with somewhat of
+surprise on his face. He was a just man; and he and his wife had but
+recently discussed the plans (including personal sacrifices) by which
+Master Tom's advancement was to be secured. Really, that anything
+particular needed to be done for Nettie had hardly occurred to him. He
+had imagined her going on at the High School for another year, say, and
+then settling down as mother's companion. His desire not to be harsh,
+coupled with his unreadiness, led Mr. Anderson to temporise. "Well,
+little girl," he said, "you plod on, and we'll have a talk about it."
+Nettie was in a triumphant mood. She had expected repulse, to be
+reminded of the terrible expense Tom was, and was to be, and she felt
+the battle already won. Doubtless the fact that Nettie was heartened was
+a great deal toward the success that was unexpectedly to dazzle her. She
+worked hard at school, and yet so buoyant was her spirit, that she found
+it easy to neglect none of her customary duties at home. She helped dust
+the drawing-room, and ran to little Dorothy in her troubles as of yore;
+and Mrs. Anderson came to remark more and more often to her husband,
+what a treat it would be when Nettie came home for good. "You can see
+she has forgotten every word about the idea of a profession," said that
+lady; "and I'm very glad. She's the light of the house." Forgotten! Oh
+no! Far from it! as they were soon to realise. The end of the term
+came--Tom was expected home on the morrow, Saturday. In the afternoon
+Nettie walked in from school, her face ablaze with excitement. For a
+moment she could say nothing; so that her mother dropped her work and
+wondered if Nettie had picked up a thousand-pound note. Then came the
+announcement--"Mother! I've won a Scholarship!"
+
+"You have?"
+
+"Yes, mother dear, I'm the QUEEN VICTORIA SCHOLAR!" Nettie stood up and
+bowed.
+
+"And what does that do for you?"
+
+"Why, I can go on studying for my profession for three years, and it
+won't cost father a penny!"
+
+"What profession, dear?"
+
+"I don't know, mother, what. But I want to be a doctor."
+
+"A what!"
+
+"A doctor, mother. Minnie Roberts is studying for a doctor; and I think
+it's splendid."
+
+"What! cut people open with a knife!"
+
+"Yes, mother, if it's going to do them good."
+
+"But, my dear----"
+
+However, Nettie knew very little about the medical profession; she only
+knew that Minnie Roberts went about just in the independent way that a
+man does, and was studying hard, and seemed very lively and witty. So
+detailed discussion was postponed to congratulation, inquiry, and
+surmise. "What _will_ Tom say?" Nettie found herself continually asking
+herself, and herself quite unable to answer herself. What Tom did
+actually say we must detail in its proper place, which comes when Mr.
+Anderson and Nettie go to meet him at the station. They were both rather
+excited, for Mr. Anderson had, to tell the truth, felt somewhat guilty
+towards his little daughter over the question of the profession. While
+he had flattered himself that the idea was a passing fancy, she had
+cherished his words of encouragement, and had made easier the
+realisation of her dream by her steady improvement of the opportunity at
+hand, viz., her school work.
+
+Tom kissed Nettie and shook hands with his father, and then it was that
+Nettie said,--
+
+"Tom, I've won a Scholarship!"
+
+And then it was, standing beside his luggage, that Tom replied,--
+
+"Sennacherib!"
+
+Though not strictly to the point, no other word or phrase could have
+shown those who knew Tom how much he was moved. Nettie knew. She was
+rather sorry Tom had to be told at all, for he had been quite
+unsuccessful this term, a good deal to his father's disappointment; and
+Nettie was sure he must feel the contrast of her own success rather
+keenly. They talked of other things on the way home, and directly Tom
+had kissed his mother and Dorothy and Joe, Nettie said, "Now shall we go
+and get the pup? I can tell you he's a beauty!"
+
+"What a brick you are, Net, to think of it!" said Tom. "Yes; let's go."
+
+These holidays were very delightful to Nettie and Tom; that young man
+permitted, even encouraged, terms of perfect equality. He forgot to
+patronise or disparage his sister or her sex. Perhaps his sister's
+success and his own lack of it had made him feel a bit modest. Nettie
+had explained her achievement both to herself and others by the fact
+that she had been so happy. And she was right. Some people talk as
+though a discipline of pain were necessary for all people in order to
+develop the best in them. That is not so. There are certain temperaments
+found in natures naturally fine, to whom a discipline of pleasure is
+best, especially in youth, and happily God often sends pleasure to
+these: we mean the pleasure of success; the pleasure of realising
+cherished plans; the pleasure of health and strength to meet every duty
+of life cheerfully. And now Nettie began to build castles in the air for
+Tom. Tom would go to Sandhurst; he would pass well; he would have a
+commission in a crack regiment. And Tom's repentance of some former
+disparagement of the sex was shown in such remarks as "that Beauchamp
+major--you know, the fellow I told you a good deal about."
+
+"Oh yes, a fine fellow!"
+
+"Well, I don't know, Net--I begin to think he's a beastly idiot. That
+fellow was bragging to me the other day that he bullied his sisters into
+fagging for him when he was at home. I think that's enough for me." And
+so holidays again came to an end, to Nettie's secret delight. She hated
+parting with Tom, but she longed to be back at her work.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Six years passed away and Nettie's career had been one of unbroken
+success. She had proceeded to Newnham and had come out splendidly in her
+examinations. Only one thing clouded her sky. Tom had not been
+successful. In spite of all that coaching could do, he had been plucked
+at Sandhurst, and the doctor had prohibited further study for the
+present. Nettie wrote to him constantly, making light of his failure,
+and assuring him of ultimate success. And now she was to make her start
+in her chosen profession. Before long she would be able to write herself
+"Nettie Anderson, M.D." and she was then to go into practice with her
+elder friend, Minnie Roberts. Little paragraphs had even appeared in
+some of the papers that "for the first time in the history of medicine
+in England, two lady graduates in medicine are to practise in
+partnership." Miss Roberts was already settled in one of the Bloomsbury
+squares, and had a constantly increasing circle of clients.
+
+One Saturday afternoon in October the inaugural banquet was held. Nettie
+had a flat of her own in the house, and here the feast was spread. Mr.
+and Mrs. Anderson, Tom, and the two doctors formed the company. They
+were all so proud of Nettie that they almost forgot Tom's lack of
+success. There was what is understood as a high time. Who so gay and
+bright as Nettie! Who so gentle and courteous as Tom! (I am afraid a
+discipline of failure is best for some of us!) How the time flew! How
+soon mother and Nettie had to go to Nettie's room for the mother to don
+her bonnet and get back home in decent time!
+
+"But you'll be marrying, you know, some day, Nettie."
+
+"Ah! time will show, mother dear," was Nettie's answer; and then she
+added, "but if I do it will be from choice and not necessity."
+
+
+
+
+THE MAGIC CABINET.
+
+BY ALBERT E. HOOPER.
+
+
+    "A castle built of granite.
+      With towers grim and tall;
+    A castle built of rainbows,
+      With sunbeams over all:--
+    I pass the one, in ruins,
+      And mount a golden stair,--
+    For the newest and the truest,
+    And the oldest and the boldest,
+    And the fairest and the rarest,
+      Is my castle in the air."--M.
+
+
+I.
+
+ON TWO SIDES OF THE CABINET.
+
+
+"Plenty of nourishment, remember, Mr. Goodman," said the doctor; "you
+must really see that your wife carries out my instructions. And you, my
+dear lady, mustn't trouble about want of appetite. The appetite will
+come all in good time, if you do what I tell you. Good-afternoon."
+
+Little Grace Goodman gazed after the retreating figure of the doctor;
+and when the door closed behind him and her father, she turned to look
+at her mother.
+
+Mrs. Goodman looked very pale and ill, and as she lay back in her
+cushioned-chair she tried to wipe away a tear unseen. But Grace's sight
+was very sharp, and she ran across the room and threw her arms
+impetuously round her mother's neck.
+
+"Oh, mother, are you very miserable?" she asked, while her own lip
+quivered pitifully.
+
+"No, no, my darling, not 'very miserable,'" answered her mother, kissing
+the little girl tenderly. "Hush! don't cry, my love, or you will make
+father unhappy. Here he comes."
+
+Mr. Goodman re-entered the room looking very thoughtful; but as he came
+and sat down beside his wife, he smiled and said cheerfully, "You will
+soon be well now, the doctor says. The worst is over, and you only need
+strengthening."
+
+Mrs. Goodman smiled sadly.
+
+"He little knows how impossible it is to carry out his orders," she
+said.
+
+"Not impossible. We shall be able to manage it, I think."
+
+A sudden light of hope sprang into the sick lady's eyes.
+
+"Is the book taken at last, then?" she asked eagerly.
+
+"The book? No, indeed. The publishers all refuse to have anything to do
+with it. It is a risky business, you see, to bring out such an expensive
+book, and I can't say that I'm surprised at their refusal."
+
+"How are we to get the money, then?" asked his wife. "We have barely
+enough for our everyday wants, and we cannot spare anything for extras."
+
+"We must sell something."
+
+Mrs. Goodman glanced round the shabbily furnished room, and then looked
+back at her husband questioningly.
+
+"Uncle Jacob's Indian cabinet must go," said he.
+
+Mrs. Goodman looked quickly towards a large black piece of furniture
+which stood in a dusky corner of the room, and after a moment's pause,
+she said: "I don't like to part with it at all. It may be very foolish
+and superstitious of me, but I always feel that we should be unwise to
+forget Uncle Jacob's advice. You know what he said about it in his
+will."
+
+"I can't say that I remember much about it," answered her husband. "I
+have a dim remembrance that he said something that sounded rather
+heathenish about the cabinet bringing good luck to its owners. I didn't
+pay much attention to it at the time, because I don't believe in
+anything of the sort. And besides, your Uncle Jacob was a very peculiar
+old gentleman; one never knew what to make of his odd fancies and
+whims."
+
+"Yes, you are quite right; he was a strange old man; but somehow I never
+shared the belief of most people that his intellect was weak. I think he
+had gathered some out-of-the-way notions during his life in India; but
+his mind always seemed clear enough on practical questions."
+
+"Well, what was it he said about the Indian cabinet?"
+
+"He said that he left it to us because we had no need for any of his
+money--we had plenty of our own then!--that the old Magic Cabinet, as he
+called it, had once been the property of a rich Rajah, who had received
+it from the hands of a wise Buddhist priest; that there was something
+talismanic about it, which gave it the power of averting misfortune from
+its owners; and that it would be a great mistake ever to part with it."
+
+Mr. Goodman laughed uneasily.
+
+"I wonder what Uncle Jacob would say now," said he. "When he amused
+himself by writing all that fanciful rubbish in his will, he little
+thought that we should be reduced to such want. It is true, he never
+believed that my book would be worth anything; but he could not foresee
+the failure of the bank and the loss of all our money. I scarcely think,
+if he were alive now, that he would advise me to keep the cabinet and
+allow you to go without the nourishment the doctor orders."
+
+The invalid sighed.
+
+"I suppose there is no help for it," she answered. "The old cabinet must
+go; for I am useless without strength, and I only make the struggle
+harder for you."
+
+All the time her father and mother had been talking, little Grace had
+been looking from one to the other with eager, wide-open eyes; and now
+she cried: "Oh, mother! must the dear old black cabinet be taken away?
+And sha'n't we ever see it again!"
+
+Her father drew her between his knees and smoothed back her fluffy
+golden hair as he said gently: "I know how you will miss it, dear; you
+have had such splendid games and make-believes with it, haven't you? But
+you will be glad to give it up to make mother well, I know."
+
+"Will mother be quite well when the old cabinet is gone away?" asked
+Grace. "Will her face be bright and pink like it used to be? And will
+she go out of doors again?"
+
+"Yes, darling, I hope so. I am going out now to ask a man to come and
+fetch away the cabinet, and while I am gone I want mother to try and get
+'forty winks,' so you must be very quiet."
+
+"Yes, I will," answered Grace quickly. "I must go and say 'good-bye' to
+the cabinet."
+
+Saying this, the little girl ran to the corner of the room in which the
+cabinet stood; and Mr. Goodman, bending down, kissed his wife's pale
+face very tenderly, whispered a word of hope and comfort in her ear, and
+then left the room; and a moment later the sound of the house-door told
+that he had gone out.
+
+Gradually the twilight grew dimmer and dimmer in the little room; and as
+the dusky shadows, which had been lurking in the corners, began to creep
+out across the floor and walls and ceiling, Mrs. Goodman fell into a
+peaceful sleep.
+
+But little Grace sat quite still on the floor, gazing at the Indian
+cabinet.
+
+It was a large and handsome piece of furniture made of ebony, which
+looked beautifully black and shiny; and the folding doors in front were
+carved in a wonderful fashion, and inlaid with cunning silver tracery.
+The carvings on these doors had always been Grace's special delight;
+they had served as her picture books and toys since her earliest
+remembrance, and she knew every line of them by heart. All the birds,
+and beasts, and curly snakes were old friends; but Grace paid little
+attention to any of them just now. All her thoughts were given to the
+central piece of carving, half of which was on each of the doors of the
+cabinet.
+
+This centre piece was carved into the form of an Indian temple, with
+cupolas and towers of raised work; and in front of the temple door there
+sat the figure of a solemn looking Indian priest.
+
+Of all Grace's toy friends this priest was the oldest and dearest, and
+as she looked at him now, the tears began to gather in her eyes at the
+thought of parting with him. And no wonder. He was really a most
+delightful little old man. His long beard was made of hair-like silver
+wire, the whites of his eyes were little specks of inlaid ivory, and in
+his hand he balanced a small bar of solid gold, which did duty as the
+latch of the cabinet doors.
+
+Grace gazed at the priest long and lovingly, and at last, shuffling a
+little nearer to the cabinet, she whispered: "I don't like saying
+'good-bye' a bit. I wish you needn't go away. Don't you think you might
+stay after all if you liked, and help mother to get well in some other
+way? You belong to a magic cabinet, so I suppose you are a magic priest,
+and can do all sorts of wonderful things if you choose."
+
+The priest nodded gravely.
+
+Then, of course, Grace gave a sudden jump, and started away from the
+cabinet with a rather frightened look on her face.
+
+It was one thing to talk to this little carved wooden figure in play,
+and make believe that he was a real live magic priest, but it was quite
+another to find him nodding at her.
+
+She felt very puzzled, but seeing that the figure was sitting quite
+still in front of the temple, she drew close up to the cabinet again,
+and presently she whispered: "Did you nod at me just now?"
+
+The ebony priest bowed his head almost to the ground.
+
+There could be no doubt about it this time. He was a magic priest after
+all. Grace did not feel frightened any more. A joyful hope began to
+swell in her heart, and she said, "Oh, I'm so glad! You won't go away
+and leave us, will you?"
+
+For a moment the figure sat motionless, and then the head gave a most
+decided shake, wagging the silver beard from side to side.
+
+"What a dear old darling you are," exclaimed Grace in delight. "But you
+know how ill poor mother is, and how much she wants nice things to make
+her strong. You will have to get them for her, if you stay, you know."
+
+Again the priest nodded gravely.
+
+"It isn't a very easy thing to do," said Grace, holding up a warning
+finger. "My father is ever such a clever man, and he can't always manage
+it. Why, he has written a great big book, all on long sheets of
+paper--piles, and _piles_, and PILES of them, and even that hasn't done
+it! I shouldn't think you could write a book."
+
+The figure of the priest sat perfectly still, and as she talked Grace
+thought that the expression on his face grew more solemn than ever, and
+even a little cross, so she hastened to say, "Don't be offended, please.
+I didn't mean to be rude. I know you must be very magic indeed, or you
+couldn't nod your head so beautifully. But do you really think you can
+get mother everything the doctor has ordered?"
+
+A fourth time the priest nodded, and this time he did it more
+emphatically than ever.
+
+Little Grace clapped her hands softly.
+
+"Oh! _do_ begin at once, there's a dear," she whispered coaxingly.
+
+Very slowly, as if his joints were stiff, the priest raised his arms,
+and allowed the golden bar in his hands to revolve in a half-circle; and
+then the Indian temple split right down the middle, and the two doors of
+the Magic Cabinet swung wide open.
+
+Grace lost sight of the little priest, and the temple, and all the other
+wonderful carvings as the folding doors rolled back on their hinges; and
+she gazed into the cabinet, wondering what would happen next. She had
+often seen the inside of the cabinet, so, beautiful as it was, it was
+not new to her, and she felt a little disappointed. Half of the space
+was filled up by tiny drawers and cupboards, all covered with thin
+sheets of mother-of-pearl, glowing with soft and delicate tints of pink
+and blue; but the other half was quite unoccupied, and so highly
+polished was the ebony, that the open space looked to Grace like a
+square-cut cave of shiny black marble.
+
+For some moments the little girl sat quite still, gazing into the depths
+of the cabinet; but as nothing happened she got upon her feet, and,
+drawing a step nearer, put her head and half her body inside the open
+space. Everything looked very dark in there, and she felt more
+disappointed than ever; but, just as she was about to draw out her head
+again, she noticed a shining speck in one of the top corners at the
+back of the cabinet. This was not the first time she had seen it, and
+she had always determined to look at it closer; but the cabinet stood on
+carved feet, like the claws of an alligator, and Grace's outstretched
+hand could not quite reach the back. But now the cabinet might be going
+away she felt that she must delay no longer, so she quickly crossed the
+floor and fetched the highest hassock from under the table, and planted
+it in front of the dark opening. Getting upon this, she climbed right
+into the open space, and a moment later she was sitting on the ebony
+floor of the Magic Cabinet.
+
+It was rather a tight squeeze; but Grace did not mind that in the least:
+she drew her feet close in under her, and laughed with glee. Now she
+could see the shining speck plainly. It was only a tiny bright spot in
+the centre of a tarnished metal knob. The knob was an ugly,
+uninteresting-looking thing, and it was fixed so high up in the dark
+corner that she would never have noticed it if it had not been for the
+bright speck in the centre.
+
+Wondering what the knob could be for, Grace gave it a sharp pull; but
+she could not move it. Next she pushed it; and then----
+
+Bang!
+
+The folding doors fell to with a slam, everything became suddenly dark,
+and Grace found herself shut inside the Magic Cabinet. Just for an
+instant she felt too startled to move; but when she recovered from her
+surprise, instead of trying to open the doors of the cabinet, she felt
+for the little metal knob again, and then pushed at it with all her
+might.
+
+First there was a sharp snap, like the turning of a lock; and then she
+heard a harsh, grating sound, as the back of the cabinet slid slowly
+aside and revealed--what do you think?
+
+The wall of the room behind? A secret cupboard?
+
+No, neither of these.
+
+Directly the back of the cabinet moved aside a sudden and brilliant
+flash of light dazzled Grace's eyes, and she was obliged to cover them
+with her hands. But it was not long before she began to peep between
+her fingers, and then she almost cried out for joy.
+
+It seemed that a scene of fairyland had been spread out before her, but
+not in a picture, for everything she saw looked as real as it was
+beautiful. Grace found that she was no longer sitting in a dark and
+narrow cabinet, but on the top step of a marble stairway, which led down
+to a lake of clear and shining water. This lake, on which numbers of
+snowy swans swam in and out among the lily beds, stretched out far and
+wide, and on its banks, among flower-decked trees and shrubs, stately
+palaces and temples were built, whose gilded domes and marble terraces
+glistened brightly in the sunshine.
+
+All this Grace took in with one delighted glance, but it was as quickly
+forgotten in a new and greater surprise that awaited her.
+
+Gently but swiftly over the surface of the shining lake there glided a
+wonderful boat which glimmered with a pearly lustre, and as the breeze,
+filling its sails of purple silk, brought it closer to the steps, Grace
+gave a glad cry and sprang to her feet. A tall, white-bearded man, who
+stood in the prow of the boat, waved a long golden wand over his head,
+and Grace clapped her hands in glee.
+
+"It's my dear, dear Indian priest off the door of the cabinet," she
+cried. "But how tall and beautiful he has grown!"
+
+Before she could say another word the boat of pearl sailed up alongside
+the bottom marble step, and the old man beckoned to her to come down.
+She needed no second bidding, but ran lightly down the stairs and sprang
+into his outstretched arms.
+
+"What a dear, good magic priest you are to come," she said, as he put
+her into a cosy place on some cushions at the bottom of the boat. "And
+what a lovely place this is! Do you live here?"
+
+"Sometimes," answered the old man, with a grave smile.
+
+"Oh, of course; I forgot. You live on the door of the Magic Cabinet
+sometimes. You have been there quite a long time. Ever since I can
+remember anything you have sat in front of the little carved temple.
+Don't you find it dull there sometimes?"
+
+"How do you know I don't go away while you are asleep?"
+
+"I never thought of that," said Grace. "But please tell me, where is the
+Magic Cabinet now?"
+
+The old priest was busy attending to the sails of the boat, which was
+now shooting swiftly away from the shore; but at the question he looked
+up and pointed towards the top of the steps with his golden wand.
+
+Grace looked and saw a lovely little temple built of inlaid coloured
+marbles.
+
+"Is that really the back of our dear old black cabinet?" she cried. "How
+pretty it is! I wonder why we have never found it out."
+
+"Everything has two sides," said the old man, "and one is always more
+beautiful than the other; and, strange to say, the best side is
+generally hidden. It can always be found if people wish for it; but as a
+rule they don't care to take the trouble."
+
+Grace looked very earnestly into the priest's face while he spoke; and
+after he had finished she was so long silent that at last he asked,
+"What are you thinking about?"
+
+"I was thinking about your face," she answered. "You won't think me
+rude, will you?"
+
+"No, certainly not."
+
+"Well, of course, you are just my dear old Indian priest, with the
+strange, dark face and nice white beard, exactly like I have always
+known you, only ever so much bigger and taller; and I'm sure that long
+wand is much finer than the little gold bar you generally hold; but I
+can't help thinking you are just a little like my mother's Uncle Jacob,
+who left us the Magic Cabinet. I have often looked at him in the album,
+and your eyes have a look in them like his. You don't mind, do you?"
+
+"Not at all," answered the old man, smiling kindly; and then he went
+back to the sails again, because the boat was nearing a little island.
+
+"Are we going to get out here?" asked Grace.
+
+"Yes; you want me to do something for you, don't you?" And then,
+without waiting for an answer, he pulled some silken cords, which folded
+up the purple sails like the wings of a resting-bird, and the boat
+grounded gently, and without the slightest shock, on a mossy bank.
+
+Taking the little girl in his arms, the old man sprang ashore. Bright
+flowers and ripe fruits grew in abundance on this fairy-like island, and
+birds of gorgeous plumage flew hither and thither, filling the sunny air
+with music.
+
+But the old priest did not seem to notice any of these things. He led
+Grace by the hand up the mossy bank, and through a thicket of flowering
+shrubs into a glade, in the centre of which he halted and said, "Now,
+what is it to be?"
+
+"Oh, I can't choose," said Grace, looking eagerly up into his face. "You
+know I want mother to be quite well; and I don't want you or the Magic
+Cabinet to go away from us. But I don't know what you had better do.
+Please, please, do whatever you like; I know it will be nice."
+
+The old priest smiled, and struck the ground with his golden wand. Then
+there was such a noise that Grace had to cover up both her ears; and at
+the same time, out of the ground, at a little distance, there rose a
+great red-brick house, with queer twisted chimneys and overhanging
+gable-ends.
+
+Grace stared with astonishment from the house to the gravely-smiling
+priest; and at last she cried, "Why, it is our dear old home where we
+used to live before we got so poor! I must be asleep and dreaming."
+
+"Well, and if you are, don't you like the dream?" asked her old friend.
+
+"Yes, yes, it's a beautiful dream; it can't be true," said Grace; and
+then she added quickly, "May we go into the house?"
+
+"Yes, if you like," he answered; and he took her by the hand, and led
+her up the steps and through the doorway.
+
+
+II.
+
+UNCLE JACOB'S GIFT.
+
+
+When Grace passed through the doorway of the red-brick house, which the
+old priest had raised in such a magical fashion out of the ground, she
+looked eagerly round the hall, and then clapped her hands and cried,
+"Why, I do believe everything is here just as it used to be. I don't
+remember all these beautiful pictures and things; but mother and father
+have often told me about them. Oh, I wish they could be here to see!"
+
+Her guide did not answer, but still holding her by the hand, he led her
+into a spacious room. It was so pretty that it almost took Grace's
+breath away. The softness of the carpets, the colours of the curtains
+and other drapery, the glittering mirrors on the walls, everything she
+saw was new and wonderful to her, and seemed like nothing so much as a
+story out of the "Arabian Nights."
+
+But before she could do anything more than give one little gasp of
+delight, the old Indian priest at her side waved his golden wand.
+
+Then a curtain which hung before a doorway at a little distance was
+suddenly looped up, and, with a light step, Grace's mother, looking rosy
+and well, came into the room.
+
+Grace gave the old man's hand a hard squeeze, but although she had a
+great longing to run straight into her mother's arms, some strange
+feeling held her back. After feasting her eyes for a moment on her
+mother's bright and happy face, she whispered, "Where's father?"
+
+Again the wonderful golden wand was raised, and then the curtain which
+had fallen into its place before the doorway was pushed hastily aside,
+and Grace saw her father.
+
+All traces of sorrow and care had left his face; he held his head high,
+his eyes shone with a glad light, and in his hands he carried a large
+book bound in white and gold.
+
+As he entered the room, Mrs. Goodman turned, and with a little cry of
+joy went to meet him. Then an expression came into her father's face
+which Grace could not understand, as silently, and with bowed head, he
+gave the beautiful book into his wife's hands.
+
+"At last!" cried Grace's mother, taking it from him, and her voice was
+broken by a sob, while the tears gathered in her eyes; but still Grace
+could see that she was very happy.
+
+Grace was very happy, too, and she could scarcely take her eyes from her
+father and mother when she heard the voice of the Indian priest speaking
+to her.
+
+"Is there anything more you would like?" the old man asked.
+
+"Oh, how kind and good you are!" cried Grace, squeezing his hand harder
+than ever; "and how ungrateful I am to forget all about you. You have
+chosen the loveliest things."
+
+"But don't you want anything for yourself?" asked her strange friend.
+"You may choose anything you like."
+
+Grace looked all round the big room, and it seemed so full of pretty
+things that at first she could not think of anything to wish for; but
+suddenly she gave a little jump and cried: "The Magic Cabinet! It isn't
+here; and I would like to have it, please."
+
+The old man looked grave; but he answered at once: "You have chosen, so
+you must have it; for in this country a choice is too serious a thing to
+be taken back. If you don't like it you must make the best of it. But
+you know you can't be at both sides of the cabinet at one and the same
+time. Come with me."
+
+Grace felt a little uncomfortable as the old man led her quickly across
+the room and through the curtained doorway by which her father and
+mother had entered.
+
+Directly the curtain fell behind them she found that they were in the
+dark; and, although she still held her friend's hand, she began to be
+afraid.
+
+"Oh, whatever is going to happen? I can't see anything at all!" she
+cried.
+
+"I am going to wave my golden wand," answered the slow and solemn voice
+of the Indian priest.
+
+As he spoke there was a vivid flash of light. Little Grace gave a
+violent start, and rubbed her eyes; and then--and then she burst into
+tears.
+
+For what do you think that sudden flash of light had shown her?
+
+It had shown her that she was back again in the shabby little home she
+had known so long; that her mother, pale and ill as ever, was just
+awakening from her sleep; that her father had returned and was lighting
+the lamp; that the little carved figure of the Indian priest was sitting
+motionless before the temple on the doors of the Magic Cabinet; and,
+showing her all this, it also showed her that she had been fast asleep
+and dreaming.
+
+It was too hard to bear. To think that the wonderful power of the magic
+priest, the beautiful fairy-like country, the dear old home, her
+mother's health and happiness, and her father's book,--to think that all
+these delightful things were only parts of a strange dream was a
+terrible disappointment to Grace, and she cried as if her heart would
+break.
+
+"Why, darling," said her father, crossing the room and lifting up the
+little girl in his strong arms, "is it as bad as all that? Can't you
+bear to part with the old cabinet, even for mother's sake?"
+
+"It's--it's not that," sobbed Grace, hiding her face on his shoulder.
+"I--I wish we could keep the cabinet; but it's not that. It's my dream."
+
+"Your dream, dear? Well, come and tell mother and me all about it."
+
+Mr. Goodman sat down in a chair beside his wife, and when she could
+control her sobs, Grace told them the whole story of her strange journey
+to the other side of the Magic Cabinet.
+
+When she had finished her father said: "Well, darling, it was a very
+pleasant dream while it lasted; but beautiful things can't last for ever
+any more than ugly ones. It is no wonder that you should have had such
+a dream after all our talk about Uncle Jacob's fancies, and the Buddhist
+priest, and the good fortune that was supposed to come to the owners of
+the Magic Cabinet."
+
+"Yes, I'm not surprised about all that, especially as Grace has always
+made-believe about that funny little priest," said Mrs. Goodman; "but I
+can't think what set her dreaming about a knob inside the cabinet."
+
+"Oh, that's not only a dream," cried Grace. "I have often seen the
+little knob, and I have pushed it and pulled it, but I can never make it
+move."
+
+"Why didn't you tell us about it? I'm sure I have never seen it," said
+her mother.
+
+"Come and show it to me now," said Mr. Goodman, putting Grace off his
+knee, and taking the lamp from the table.
+
+Grace, followed by her mother and father, crossed over to the corner in
+which the Magic Cabinet stood. The lamp was placed on a chair just in
+front of it; and then Grace, with rather a reproachful glance at the
+figure of the Indian priest, twisted round the little gold bar, and
+opened the two ebony doors.
+
+"There!" cried Grace, stooping down, "I can just see the knob; but you
+can't get low enough. You can feel it, though, if you put your hand into
+this corner."
+
+Guided by the direction in which her finger pointed, Mr. Goodman thrust
+his hand right back into the darkest corner of the cabinet; and
+presently he said, "Yes, I can certainly feel something hard and round
+like a little button. But I can't move it."
+
+As he spoke he pulled at the little knob with a force that shook the
+cabinet in its place.
+
+"Push it, father!" cried Grace eagerly. "That's what I did in my dream."
+
+Mr. Goodman obeyed, and instantly there was a low musical "twang," like
+that caused by the striking of a Jew's harp, or the quick vibration of a
+piece of watch-spring; a sharp click followed, and something was heard
+to fall on to the ebony floor of the cabinet.
+
+Mrs. Goodman held the light closer, and in a moment her husband said,
+"Here is a little secret door hinged down to the bottom of the cabinet.
+The knob must have been fixed to a spring, and in pressing it I have
+released the catch of the door, which has fallen flat, leaving a small
+square opening."
+
+"Is there anything inside?" asked Grace, in a hurried, excited whisper.
+
+"Let me see," said her father, thrusting in his hand again. "Ah, yes! A
+little drawer!"
+
+A moment later he stood upright, holding a tiny drawer of sweet-smelling
+sandal-wood in his hand.
+
+"Come along to the table," he said; "we will soon see if there is
+anything nice inside."
+
+Although it was evident that he was trying to speak carelessly, there
+was a strange eagerness in his manner; and as Mrs. Goodman set the lamp
+on the table, the light revealed a spot of bright colour on each of her
+pale cheeks; and as for Grace, she was in raptures.
+
+"I know--I _know_ it's something beautiful," she cried; "and I believe
+my priest is a magic priest after all."
+
+They all three gathered round the light, and Mr. Goodman laid the little
+secret drawer on the table.
+
+The drawer seemed to be quite full, but its contents were completely
+covered by a neatly-folded piece of Indian silk. This was quickly
+removed; and under it there lay an ivory box of delicate workmanship. It
+fitted closely into the drawer, and Mr. Goodman lifted it out with great
+care. On opening the lid he revealed a second box; and this was so
+beautiful that it drew exclamations of delight from both Grace and her
+mother. The inner box was made of gold, and it was covered with fruit
+and flowers and birds, all wrought in wonderful _repoussé_ work.
+
+There was some difficulty in finding how this golden box was to be
+opened; but a little examination brought to light a secret spring, and
+at the first pressure the lid of the box flew back and the central
+treasure of the Magic Cabinet was exposed to view.
+
+Grace gave a cry of disappointment, for, lying in a snug little nest of
+pink cotton-wool, she saw only a dull, ugly-looking stone.
+
+Mrs. Goodman did not speak, but looked earnestly at her husband as he
+took the stone from its resting-place and held it close under the light.
+He took a glass from his pocket and examined it carefully for a moment,
+and then laid it back in the golden box again, and said, "It is a
+diamond, and, I believe, a very valuable one."
+
+"But it isn't a bit pretty and sparkly like the diamonds in the shop
+windows," said Grace. "What is the good of it?"
+
+"It is a wonderful magic gift," answered her father. "All that money can
+do for us, this dull-looking stone can do. It can buy all the things
+mother needs to make her strong and well."
+
+"And it can print father's book, and make us all as happy as we were in
+your dream," said her mother.
+
+Mr. Goodman now took the little sandal-wood drawer in his hand again,
+and, under another piece of Indian silk, he found a letter.
+
+"My dear, this is for you," he said; "and see--surely this must be your
+Uncle Jacob's writing?"
+
+Mrs. Goodman took the envelope from his hand, and read the inscription,
+which was written in strange, angular characters:
+
+     "TO MY NIECE."
+
+Her hand shook a little as she broke the seal and drew out a small sheet
+of paper covered closely with the same writing, and her voice was
+unsteady as she read the old man's letter aloud.
+
+     "My dear Niece,--When my will is read you may be surprised
+     to find that I have left you only one gift--my old Indian
+     cabinet. But I value it very highly, and I believe that for
+     my sake you will never willingly part with it. I am rich,
+     and if you needed money I could leave you plenty; but you
+     have enough and to spare at present, and I hope you will
+     never know the want of it. But still, I mean to make one
+     slight provision for you. Authors are not always good men
+     of business, and your husband may lose his money; and
+     however great and good his book may be, it may be rejected
+     by the world, and you may some day be poor. I shall place
+     an uncut diamond of some value in the secret drawer of the
+     old cabinet, hoping that you may find it in a time of need.
+     You may wonder why I trust to such a chance; but some wise
+     man has said that _all chance is direction which we cannot
+     see_, and I believe he is right, so I shall follow my whim.
+     If you should discover the secret at a time when you are
+     not in need of money, keep the gem uncut as a wonderful
+     work of nature; there are not many like it in the world.
+     But if the money it can bring you will be useful, do not
+     hesitate to sell it; it will fetch a high price. In any
+     case, accept it as the last gift of your affectionate
+
+     "UNCLE JACOB."
+
+There was silence in the little room for a few moments after Uncle
+Jacob's letter had been read. Mr. Goodman led his wife back to her
+chair, and Grace stood solemnly waiting for somebody to speak.
+
+At last her father looked at her with a bright smile.
+
+"We must be very thankful to Uncle Jacob for his gift," he said; "but we
+mustn't forget that it was your wonderful dream which led us to the
+discovery."
+
+"I can't help thinking that my dear Indian priest had something to do
+with it. You know he is a magic one; and he did look something like
+Uncle Jacob in my dream, you know."
+
+Her mother and father smiled; and Mr. Goodman rose briskly and said, "I
+must make haste and tell the man he needn't come to look at the
+cabinet."
+
+"Oh, father," cried Grace, who was feeling a little puzzled, "won't it
+have to go away, after all?"
+
+"No, my child," he answered; "mother will be able to get well without
+losing it now. We shall keep the Magic Cabinet."
+
+"There, I thought my Indian priest wouldn't tell a story. I asked him
+to promise not to go away and leave us, and he shook his hand most
+beautifully."
+
+Mr. Goodman bent down and kissed her; and then he left the room, and
+Grace, after taking a peep at her little Indian priest, ran and threw
+her arms lovingly round her mother's neck.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Uncle Jacob's gift was the means of making Grace's dream come true in a
+wonderful way. First of all her mother got well and the roses came back
+into her cheeks again; and then, instead of going on a magic journey
+through the back of the cabinet, the father and mother and their little
+girl went into the country, which was quite as beautiful, if not so
+strange, as the island in the shining lake. A little later the dear old
+red-brick home was bought again, and they all went to live there; Mr.
+Goodman's book was published, and it was bound in white and gold, just
+as Grace had seen it in her dream. And after it had been examined and
+admired, at Grace's suggestion it was put away under the watchful care
+of the little Indian priest in the Magic Cabinet.
+
+
+
+
+GIRLHOOD AND YOUTH.
+
+
+
+
+ONLY TIM.
+
+BY SARAH DOUDNEY.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+"I say, Bee, are you coming?"
+
+Claude Molyneux, in all the glory of fourteen summers and a suit of new
+white flannels, stands looking up with a slight frown of impatience at
+an open bay-window. It has been one of the hottest of August days; and
+now at four o'clock in the afternoon the haze of heat hangs over the
+sea, and makes a purple cloud of the distant coast. But, for all that,
+it is splendid weather; just the kind of weather that a boy likes when
+he comes to spend his holidays at the seaside; and Claude, who is an
+Indian-born boy, has no objection to a good hot summer.
+
+As he stands, hands in pockets, on the narrow pebbled path under the
+window, you cannot help admiring the grace of his slim, well-knit
+figure, and the delicate moulding of his features. The fair skin is
+sun-tanned, as a boy's skin ought to be; the eyes, large and
+heavy-lidded, are of a dark grey, not brilliant, but soft; the light,
+fine hair is cropped close to the shapely head. He is a lad that one
+likes at the first glance; and although one sees, all too plainly, that
+those chiselled lips can take a disdainful curl sometimes, one knows
+instinctively that they may always be trusted to tell the simple truth.
+Anything mean, anything sneaky, could not live in the steady light of
+those dark-grey eyes.
+
+"I say, Bee-e!" he sings out again, with a little drawl, which, however,
+does not make the tone less imperative. Master Claude is not accustomed
+to be kept waiting, and is beginning to think himself rather badly used.
+
+"Coming," cries a sweet treble; and then a head and shoulders appear
+above the row of scarlet geraniums on the window-sill.
+
+She is worth waiting for, this loitering Bee, whose thirteen years have
+given her none of the airs of premature womanhood. Her smooth round
+cheeks are tinted with the tender pink of the shell; her great eyes, of
+speedwell blue, are opened frankly and fearlessly on the whole world.
+Taken singly, not one of her features is, perhaps, quite faultless; but
+it would be hard to find a critic who could quarrel with the small face,
+framed in waves of ruddy golden hair that go tumbling down below her
+waist. You can see a freckle or two on the sides of her little nose, and
+notice that her slender hands are browned by the sea-side sun; for Bee
+is one of those lucky girls who are permitted to dabble freely in
+salt-water, and get all the benefit that briny breezes can bestow.
+
+"I couldn't come sooner," she says in a tone of apology. "We always have
+to learn a hymn on Saturdays, and I've had _such_ a bother with Dolly.
+She _would_ want to know where 'the scoffer's seat' was, and if it had a
+cushion? And it does so worry me to try to explain."
+
+"Oh, you poor thing--you must be quite worn out!" responds Claude, with
+genuine sympathy. "But make haste; you haven't got your hat on yet."
+
+Bee makes a little dive, and brings up a wide-brimmed sailor's hat with
+a blue ribbon round it. She puts it on, fastens it securely under the
+silken masses of her hair, and then declares herself to be quite ready.
+
+In the next instant the girl and boy are walking side by side along the
+shore, near enough to the sea to hear the soft rush of the tide. The
+blue eyes are turned inquiringly on Claude's face, which is just a shade
+graver than it ought to be on this delightful do-nothing day.
+
+"Bee," he says after a silence, "I don't quite approve of your being
+great friends with Crooke--Tim Crooke. What a name it is! He may be a
+good sort of fellow, but he's not in our set at all, you know."
+
+"He _is_ a good sort of fellow," she answers. "There's no doubt about
+that. Aunt Hetty likes him very much. And he's clever, Claude; he can do
+ever so many things."
+
+"I dare say he can," says Mr. Molyneux, throwing back his head and
+quickening his pace. "But you needn't have got so _very_ intimate. We
+could have done very well without him to-day."
+
+"He's Mr. Carey's pupil," remarks Bee quietly. "Aunt Hetty couldn't
+invite Mr. Carey and leave out Tim."
+
+"Well, we could have been jolly enough without Mr. Carey. It's a
+mistake, I think, to see too much of this Tim Crooke; he isn't a
+gentleman, and he oughtn't to expect us to notice him particularly."
+
+"He doesn't expect anything; we like him; he's our friend." The soft
+pink deepens on Bee's cheeks, and her ripe lips quiver a little. She
+loves Claude with all her heart, and thinks him the king of boys; but,
+for all that, she won't let him be unjust if she can help it.
+
+Claude tramps on over sand, and pebbles, and seaweed, with lips firmly
+compressed and eyes gazing steadily before him. Bee, as she glances at
+him, knows quite well what Claude feels when he looks as if his features
+had got frozen into marble. And she knows, too, that he will be
+painfully, frigidly, exasperatingly polite to her all the evening.
+
+Matters cannot go on like this, she says to herself in desperation.
+Claude arrived only yesterday, and here they are beginning his holiday
+with a dreadful disagreement. She has been counting the days that must
+pass before she sees him; writing him little letters full of sweet
+child-love and longing; wearing a pinafore over her newest frock, that
+it may be kept fresh and pretty for his critical eyes. And now he is
+here, walking by her side; and she has offended him.
+
+Is it Heaven or the instincts of her own innocent little heart that
+teach this girl tact and wisdom? She doesn't proceed to inspire Claude
+with a maddening desire to punch Tim's head, by recounting a long
+catalogue of Mr. Crooke's perfections, as a more experienced person
+would probably have done. But she draws a shade closer to her companion,
+and presently he finds a tiny brown hand upon his white flannel sleeve.
+
+"You dear old Empey," she says lovingly, "I've been wanting you for, oh,
+_such_ a long time!"
+
+The frozen face thaws; the dark grey eyes shine softly. "Empey" is her
+pet name for him, an abbreviation of "Emperor;" and he likes to hear her
+say it.
+
+"And I've wanted you, old chap," he answers, putting his arm round the
+brown-holland waist.
+
+"Empey, we always do get on well together, don't we?"
+
+"Of course we do,"--with a squeeze.
+
+"Then, just to please me, won't you be a little kind to poor Tim? He's
+not a splendid fellow like you, and he knows he never will be. I do so
+want you to forget that he's a nobody. We are all so much more
+comfortable when we don't remember things of that sort. You're not
+angry, Empey?"
+
+"Angry; no, you silly old thing!"
+
+And then she knows, without any more words, that he will grant her
+request.
+
+The little boat that Claude has hired is waiting for them at the
+landing-place, and Bee steps into it with the lightest of hearts. Aunt
+Hetty and the rest will follow in a larger boat; but Mr. Molyneux has
+resolved to row Miss Beatrice Jocelyn himself.
+
+He rows as he does everything, easily and gracefully, and Bee watches
+him with happy blue eyes as they go gliding over the warm sea. How still
+it is to-day! Beyond the grey rocks and yellow sands they can see the
+golden harvest fields full of standing sheaves, and still farther away
+there are low hills faintly outlined through the hot mist. The little
+town, with its irregularly-built terraces, looks dazzlingly white in
+the sunshine; but the church, standing on high ground, lifts a red spire
+into the hazy blue.
+
+"I could live on the sea!" says Bee ecstatically. "You don't know what
+it costs me to come out of a boat; I always want this lovely gliding
+feeling to go on for ever. Don't you?"
+
+"I like it awfully," he replies; "but then there are other things that
+I want to do by-and-by. I mean to try my hand at tiger-shooting when I
+go out to the governor."
+
+"But, oh, Empey, it'll be a long time before you have to go out to
+India!"
+
+Her red mouth drops a little at the corners, and her dimples become
+invisible. He looks at her with a gleam of mischief in his lazy eyes.
+
+"What do you call a long time?" he asks. "Just a year or two, that's
+nothing. Never mind, Bee, you'll get on very well without me."
+
+"Oh, Empey!"
+
+The great blue eyes glisten; and Claude is penitent in an instant.
+
+"You ridiculous old chap!" he says gaily. "Haven't you been told
+thousands of times that my dad is your guardian, and as good as a father
+to you? And do you suppose that I'd go to India and leave you behind?
+You're coming too, you know, and you'll sit perched up on the back of an
+elephant to see me shoot tigers. What a time we'll have out there, Bee!"
+
+"Do you really mean it?" she cries, with a rapturous face; blue eyes
+shining like sapphires, cheeks aglow with the richest rose.
+
+"Of course I do. It was all arranged, years ago, by our two governors; I
+thought Aunt Hetty had told you. But I say, Bee, when the time _does_
+come, I hope you won't make a fuss about leaving England!"
+
+"Not a bit of it," she says sturdily. "I shall like to see the Ganges,
+and the big water-lilies, and the alligators. But what's to become of
+Dolly?"
+
+"I don't know; I suppose she'll have to stay with Aunt Hetty. You belong
+to _us_, you see, old girl; so you and I shall never be parted."
+
+"No, never be parted," she echoes, looking out across the calm waters
+with eyes full of innocent joy.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+As soon as the boat grates on the shallows, two small bare-legged
+urchins rush forward to help Miss Jocelyn to land. But Bee, active and
+fearless, needs no aid at all, and reaches the pebbled beach with a
+light spring.
+
+"Is tea nearly ready, Bob?" she asks, addressing the elder lad, who
+grins with delight from ear to ear.
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"And has your mother got an immense lobster, and a big crab, and heaps
+of prawns?"
+
+"Yes, miss; whoppers, all of 'em."
+
+"That's right; the sea does give us such appetites, doesn't it, Empey? I
+hope the others will be here soon."
+
+"If they don't make haste they'll find only the shell of the lobster,"
+he answers, joining her on the shore. "I shall never be able to control
+myself if I take one look at him!"
+
+"Then don't look at him, greedy!" she cries, clapping her hands, and
+dancing round and round him, while the fisherman's children stare at her
+wonderful golden locks. "I didn't forget your weakness for lobster; Aunt
+Hetty said I might arrange it all; and we shall have a splendid tea!"
+
+He looks at her with his quiet smile, half amused, wholly loving.
+
+"Don't be whirling like a Dervish, and making yourself too hot to eat
+anything," he says, putting a stop to her evolutions. "Let's saunter
+along the beach, and sit down a bit, my Queen Bee."
+
+It is a bright, glistening beach, strewn with many-coloured pebbles and
+stones, brown, yellow, purple, crimson, and snow-white; there are empty
+shells in abundance, out of which charming pincushions can be
+constructed by skilful fingers; and, best of all, there are little heaps
+of delicate sea-weed, capable of being pressed out into tiny tree-like
+forms of coral-pink. Altogether, this strip of shore is a very treasury
+for children, and Bee can never come here without wanting to load her
+own pockets and everybody else's with heavy spoils.
+
+Claude, who has already been presented with seven shell pincushions, a
+polished pebble, and three copy-books filled with gummed sea-weed, does
+not care to add to this valuable collection of marine treasures. He
+arrests the little hand that is making a grasp at a clam, and says
+persuasively, "Stop till we come here again, Bee; don't pick up things
+this afternoon. It's so jolly to loaf about and do nothing, you know."
+
+She obeys, after casting one regretful glance at that fascinating
+scalloped shell; and they stroll on in placid contentment. From this
+part of the coast they get a wide ocean outlook, and can gaze far away
+to the faint sea-line dissolving into the sky.
+
+How calm it is! Beautiful, infinite sea, suggesting thoughts of voyages
+into unknown climes; of delightful secrets, yet unfathomed; of that
+enchanting "by-and-by" which is the children's Promised Land! The boy
+and girl are quiet for a time, dreaming their tranquil little dreams in
+the silence of utter satisfaction, while the waves wash the beach with
+the old lulling sound, and the rock-shadows are slowly lengthening on
+the sand.
+
+Meanwhile, Mrs. Drake, the fisherman's wife, is busy with her
+preparations indoors. The cottage stands in a sheltered nook, a wooden
+dwelling, coated with tar, with nets hanging outside its walls, and a
+doorstep as white as snow. A few hardy geraniums in pots brighten the
+windows, but garden there is and can be none; the pebbly shore must
+serve the children as a playground. Rosy cheeks and sound lungs give
+proof that the little Drakes are thriving in their seaside home; and the
+youngest, a baby of two, lies placidly sucking its thumb on the sunny
+beach.
+
+The boat containing Aunt Hetty and her party nears the landing, and just
+for one second Claude's brow darkens again. A sturdy lad is pulling
+strong strokes, with arms that seem almost as strong as Drake's; and the
+lad has a merry brown face and black curly hair, and wears a scarlet cap
+set jauntily on his head. It is Tim Crooke, looking provokingly at his
+ease among his aristocratic friends, and quite prepared to enjoy
+himself.
+
+Aunt Hetty, gentlest and kindest of elderly ladies, is assisted to land
+by the clergyman; while Tim takes up Dolly in his strong arms and places
+her safely on the shore. And then they all make for the cottage, Bee
+lingering in the rear with Claude, and winning him back to good-humour
+with a pleading look from the sunny blue eyes.
+
+Surely this tea in the fisherman's kitchen is a banquet fit for the
+gods! It is a happy, hungry group that gathers round the deal table;
+Bee, doing the honours, pours out tea, and has a great deal of business
+on her hands; Aunt Hetty, at the other end of the board, keeps anxious
+watch over Dolly, who consumes prawns with frightful rapidity; Tim
+Crooke beams on everybody and ministers to the wants of everybody, like
+the good-natured fellow that he is. And Claude, true to his unuttered
+promise, is kind to Tim in a pleasant, natural way.
+
+At length the meal comes to an end; lobster, prawns, and crab are all
+demolished! and the last drop is drained out of the teapot. The party
+stroll out of doors, and revel in the cool of the evening air.
+
+How is it that they begin to talk about heroes and heroism? Nobody can
+remember afterwards who started the subject; but certain it is that all,
+save Dolly, become interested in the conversation, and each has a word
+to say. Mr. Carey, the clergyman, is the leading talker; and he talks
+well, not priggishly, nor prosily, but speaks the right words in the
+right way, and wins the attention of his companions.
+
+"Charles Kingsley has told us," he says, "'that true heroism must
+involve self-sacrifice;' it is the highest form of moral beauty. And
+it's a good thing when girls and boys fall to thinking about heroes and
+heroines; the thinking begets longing to do likewise. What was it that
+you were saying last night about your favourite hero, Tim?"
+
+Tim lifts his head, and a rush of colour comes suddenly into his brown
+face.
+
+"Jim Bludso is the fellow I like," he says, speaking quickly. "Wasn't it
+grand of him to hold the bow of the _Prairie Belle_ against the bank,
+while she was burning? The passengers all got off, you know, before the
+smoke-stacks fell; only Bludso's life was lost. He let himself be burnt
+to save the rest."
+
+"It _was_ grand!" murmurs Bee, drawing a long breath.
+
+"Yes," says Claude, bringing out his words slowly; "but I like Bert
+Harte's 'Flynn of Virginia' better still. You see, it was Jim Bludso's
+own fault that the steamer caught fire. Nothing would stop him from
+running a race with the _Movestar_; and so the _Prairie Belle_ came
+tearing along the Mississippi--
+
+    "'With a nigger squat on her safety-valve,
+    And her furnace crammed, rosin and pine!'
+
+Jolly fun it must have been, but anybody could have foretold the end. As
+to Flynn, he was working on the Central Pacific Railway with his mate, a
+married man, when they found the whole concern giving way. And Flynn set
+his back against the wall in the dark drift, and held the timbers that
+were ready to fall, and sang out to Jake to run for his wife's sake."
+
+"Oh, that was beautiful!" Bee sighs, with her blue eyes full of tears.
+"Flynn was only Flynn, wasn't he? But Jake had got somebody who couldn't
+live without him."
+
+"That was just what Flynn felt, he was only Flynn," Claude replies,
+pleased that his hero is appreciated. "There was something splendidly
+deliberate in his self-sacrifice, don't you think so, sir?" he adds,
+turning to Mr. Carey.
+
+"You are quite right," Mr. Carey answers thoughtfully.
+
+Dolly comes running up to the group with shrill cries showing a little
+live crab in her small palm. A faint breeze is blowing off the sea, the
+west grows golden, and Aunt Hetty rises from her seat on the beach.
+
+"We must be going home now," she says. "Claude, dear boy, will you look
+for my shawl?"
+
+Claude obediently goes into the cottage to bring out the wraps; Mr.
+Carey hastens off to summon Drake; and Tim finds himself, for a few
+seconds, by Bee's side.
+
+"Hasn't it been a lovely afternoon?" she says. "I've been so happy,
+haven't you? Oh, Tim, Claude has told me something!"
+
+"Is it a secret?" Tim asks.
+
+"No, he didn't say so. He says it was arranged years ago that he is to
+take me out to India, by-and-by. I'm so glad, Tim; I'd go anywhere with
+Claude."
+
+The golden glow that shines on Tim's face seems to dazzle him, and he
+turns his head away from the speaker.
+
+"I'm glad that you are glad, Bee," he says quietly. And that is all.
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+Sunday morning dawns, hot and still, but clearer than the day before.
+Aunt Hetty and her nieces are sitting in the bay-windowed room, which
+has the usual furniture of seaside lodgings. They have just gone through
+their morning readings, and are ready to begin breakfast when Claude
+comes downstairs.
+
+"How is the wrist, dear boy?" Aunt Hetty asks tenderly.
+
+In jumping out of the boat last night he has managed to get a sprain,
+but is disposed to treat the matter lightly.
+
+"Oh, it will soon be well, thanks," he says, taking his place, and
+giving a smile to Bee.
+
+A little later they all set out for church, and Bee and Claude attract
+many an admiring glance as they walk together along the terraces. She
+wears her new frock, of some soft creamy stuff, and a quaint "granny"
+bonnet of ivory satin lined with pale blue; her short skirts display
+silk stockings and dainty little shoes of patent leather. Aunt Hetty,
+her tall thin figure draped with black lace, follows with Dolly, that
+little witch of eight years old, who is the pet and plague of the good
+lady's life. Other seaside visitors look after the party from Nelson
+Lodge, and discuss them freely among themselves; but they do not speak
+from personal knowledge of Lady Henrietta Jocelyn and her charges. All
+they know is that Lady Henrietta is the maiden aunt of the two girls,
+and that they were committed to her care by her brother who died in
+India.
+
+The church is large, recently built, and smells strongly of mortar and
+varnish. In winter Mr. Carey has to preach to a scanty congregation; but
+in summer, when the lodging-houses are full, there is always a goodly
+number of worshippers.
+
+The Jocelyns, whose home is in town, are accustomed to attend St.
+George's, Hanover Square, and never feel perfectly comfortable in this
+seaside church, which is, as Bee says, "so dreadfully new, and so
+unfurnished." She wishes they could all worship out of doors, among the
+rocks, with the blue sea murmuring near them; and yet she likes to hear
+Tim's voice, as he stands among the other surpliced boys and leads the
+singing.
+
+Not that Tim is by any means an ideal chorister. His surplice makes his
+brown skin look browner, and his curly head blacker than ever; and there
+is not a heavenly expression in his quick dark eyes. He is not in the
+least like one of those saintly boys we read of sometimes, who sing and
+lift their glances upward, and pass gently and speedily away from this
+wicked world. Judging from Tim's robust appearance he has many a year of
+earthly life before him, and many a hot battle to fight with the flesh
+and the devil.
+
+But it is a marvellous voice that comes from the lad's massive throat; a
+voice that goes up like a lark's song, carrying heavy hearts to higher
+regions with its notes. In future days there are some who will remember
+that morning's anthem, which Tim sings with all his triumphant power and
+thrilling sweetness. A few fishermen, standing just within the doors,
+listen entranced, and one rugged old fellow puts up a hard hand to hide
+his eyes.
+
+"The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their
+voice; the floods lift up their waves.
+
+"The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than
+the mighty waves of the sea.
+
+"Thy testimonies are very sure; holiness becometh Thine house, O Lord,
+for ever."
+
+The service comes to an end, and Aunt Hetty and her children walk
+homeward along the terraces, under a glaring sun. The sea is still calm,
+but a light breeze is stirring, creeping off the water and breathing
+across the hot sand and shingle. Bee gives a deep sigh of satisfaction
+as the zephyr kisses her rosy cheeks.
+
+"It's going to be just a little cooler, Empey," she says, as they draw
+near Nelson Lodge.
+
+"Yes; it must be jolly on the sea to-day," he remarks, following a
+little cutter with longing eyes.
+
+When the midday meal is ended, Aunt Hetty repairs to the sofa to read
+Jeremy Taylor; and Dolly, having discovered an illustrated copy of the
+"Pilgrim's Progress," is silently gloating over a picture of Apollyon,
+dragon-winged, with smoke coming out of his nostrils. For fifteen or
+twenty minutes Claude and Bee whisper by the open window, and then a
+gentle sound from the sofa tells them that good Jeremy has lulled Aunt
+Hetty to repose.
+
+Claude gives Bee an expressive glance which plainly says, "Come along."
+Dolly's back is turned towards them; moreover, she has just lighted upon
+a whole family of fiends, and cannot take her eyes off the book. So the
+pair slip out of the room unheard and unseen, and gain the beach without
+let or hindrance.
+
+They shun the pier, and foot it briskly along the shore till they have
+left most of the promenaders behind. On and on they go till they get to
+the low rocks, and the smooth yellow sands strewn with mussel and cockle
+shells; and then they sit down to rest, and listen to the music of the
+tide.
+
+"You must take me to White Cove one day, Empey," says Bee, after a
+pause. "There are the most lovely shells to be found there, and agates,
+and things. Mr. Carey said that somebody once picked up a bit of amber
+there."
+
+"I could row you there at once," returns Claude, "if it wasn't for this
+wrist of mine."
+
+"Oh, but it's Sunday; Aunt Hetty wouldn't like us to go."
+
+"She wouldn't mind it if I reasoned with her," responds Mr. Molyneux
+with perfect confidence in his own powers of argument. "All those little
+prejudices of hers could soon be got rid of."
+
+"Drake says it's rather dangerous near White Cove," observes Bee after
+another silence; "because of all the sunken rocks, you know."
+
+"No, I don't know: I've never been there. But you've set me longing to
+see the place, old chap."
+
+"Oh, it's lovely!" she cries, with enthusiasm. "Thousands and thousands
+of sea-birds sit on the cliffs; and there are lots of little caves, all
+hung with silky green sea-weeds, so quiet and cool."
+
+Claude leans back against the low rock behind him, and looks out across
+the sea with eyes half-closed. The horizon line is sharp and clear
+to-day; the blue of the sky meets, but does not mingle with the deeper
+blue of the ocean; a few white sails can be distinctly seen. Now and
+then a gull flashes silvery wings in the sunshine, and its cry comes
+wailing across the water to the shore.
+
+"Why, there's Tim!" says Bee, pointing to a broad-shouldered figure
+moving leisurely along the sand.
+
+He hears the well-known voice, and turns instantly.
+
+"Well, he may make himself useful to-day," remarks Claude, with a sudden
+inspiration. "I daresay he'll be glad enough to row to the cove if we
+ask him."
+
+Tim is more than glad, he is delighted to be included in the plans of
+Claude and Bee. To tell the truth, Sunday afternoon is generally rather
+a lonesome time to Tim Crooke. He has no vocation for Sunday-school
+teaching, and always feels intensely grateful to Mr. Carey for not
+bothering him to take a class. The little vicarage is, however, a dreary
+house when master and servants are out; and Tim is usually to be found
+wandering on the shore till the hour for tea.
+
+"Bill Drake is down yonder," says Tim, waving his hand towards a block
+of stone some distance off. "And he's got a little boat, a battered old
+thing, but----"
+
+"Any old thing will do," interrupts Claude, rising eagerly. "We are not
+going to show off in front of the pier, you know; we only want to get
+away to White Cove and enjoy ourselves. Do you know the place, Crooke?"
+
+"Yes, very well. I've been there several times with Mr. Carey; it's a
+wonderful place for gulls. I suppose there are thousands of them."
+
+"Well, come along," cries Claude; and Bee springs gladly to her feet. It
+delights her to see the magnificent Empey growing so friendly with that
+good old Tim, and as she trips on, leaving dainty footprints on the
+sands, her mind is busy with plans for the coming days. "This is only
+the beginning of pleasures," she says to herself; the holidays will last
+a long time, and they can enjoy many excursions about the coast. It is
+all going to be perfectly jolly, now that Claude has really consented to
+accept Tim; for Tim is so good-natured and useful that she hardly knows
+what they would do without him.
+
+The little boat is a battered old thing indeed, but nobody is inclined
+to find fault with it. Bill Drake is quite ready to let the young
+gentleman have his way; Bee steps in lightly enough, and seats herself;
+the lads follow, and then Tim pushes off, leaving Bill standing grinning
+on the shore.
+
+A happy girl is Bee Jocelyn as the boat glides on, and the fresh air
+fans her face. She has put on her broad-brimmed hat again; and the light
+breeze lifts her bright silky tresses, and spreads them round her head
+like a golden veil. She dips one little hand in the water--the beautiful
+sunny water that is as green as an emerald when you look deep into its
+depths; and then she trails her fingers in the sea and smiles at Claude.
+
+"Oh, Empey," she says, "how nice it would be if one of Undine's
+sea-relations were to put a coral necklace, all red and glittering, into
+my hand!"
+
+"Or some strings of pearls," suggests Tim.
+
+"She will have a set of pearls one day," remarks Claude, in that quiet
+tone of his. "They were my mother's, and they are waiting in India for
+Bee."
+
+There is an unwonted softness in Tim's black eyes. He is a
+stout-hearted, matter-of-fact lad, people say, not given to dreaming;
+and yet he is seeing visions this afternoon. He sees Bee, not in her
+sailor's hat and girlish frock, but in white robes, with all her wealth
+of hair plaited up, and the pearls glistening on her neck. He sees the
+merry face grown graver, yet lovelier than ever; and then he tries to
+picture her home in that far-off land that he will never behold; a land
+of dark faces, and temples, and palms, and flowers.
+
+And Claude will be with her always; what a beautiful poetical life these
+two will live together! All the poetry is for them, and all the prose
+for Tim. His thoughts don't shape themselves into these very words,
+perhaps; but he does certainly feel that it is a dull path which lies
+before Tim Crooke.
+
+While he dreams, he pulls as steadily as usual, and they are drawing
+nearer and nearer to the little cove. Soon they gain a full view of
+those cliffs where the sea-birds sit, tier upon tier, like spectators in
+a circus, and the calm air is filled with strange cries. Bee claps her
+hands in delight; the sight is so novel, and the birds that have taken
+wing sweep so gracefully around their rocky haunts, that there is a
+charm, past explaining, in the whole scene.
+
+Meanwhile the tide is rising fast and floats the boat onward to White
+Cove. They are making for a landing-place just at the foot of the
+sea-birds' cliff, and Tim pulls cautiously, telling Claude to keep a
+sharp look-out for the rocks that lie treacherously hiding under the
+flood.
+
+"There's the Chair!" cries Bee suddenly. "Look, Empey, we are quite
+close to it! It was Mr. Carey who gave it that name, because you see
+it's exactly like a chair, and it has a seat, and a little ledge where
+your feet may rest. Mr. Carey got up there once; it's quite easy to
+climb."
+
+"At high water the tide comes almost up to the footstool of the Chair,"
+says Tim. "I've noticed it standing up out of the sea with a bird or two
+perched on its seat. It looks very funny then, when all the rocks near
+it are quite covered."
+
+"It really is curious," Claude is beginning to say, when there is a bump
+and a terrible grating noise. The boat has struck against one of those
+traitorous rocks, and her rotten planks have given way. Long before they
+can reach the landing-place she will be full of water; there is already
+a stream flowing in through the rent in her side, and Tim, quiet and
+cool, takes in every detail of the case before Claude has begun fully to
+realise their condition. Without a moment's hesitation he pulls straight
+towards the little strip of sand that is to be seen at the base of the
+Chair.
+
+"Quick, Claude," he says in decided tones, "the wind is rising, and the
+tide is coming in fast. You must get Bee up into the Chair, and you'll
+have to follow her; although there's hardly room for two."
+
+"Do you mean that we shall have to stay up there till the tide goes
+out?" asks Claude. "Why, it's absurd! Is there no other way to----"
+
+"There _is_ no other way to save your lives, so far as I can see. Now
+don't lose time; the Chair isn't so easy to climb, after all. There are
+little dents in the rock where your toes may go, but no projections
+anywhere. It's just a smooth block of stone."
+
+Poor Bee, who knows that Tim must have good reasons for being serious,
+tries to obey him without delay. But how could she ever have fancied
+that this dreadful rock was easy to climb! It is nearly as slippery as
+glass, and affords so little hold for hands or feet that she is almost
+in despair. The boys encourage her with their voices; Claude is
+scrambling up after her--not without difficulty, however, for his
+sprained wrist gives him many a sharp twinge. And then at last, after
+terrible efforts, the "footstool" ledge is gained, and Bee drags herself
+up to the seat of the chair.
+
+But what a seat it is! Merely a niche which looks as if it had been
+scooped out of the solid stone and furnished with a narrow shelf. How
+will it be possible for her to make herself very small, and leave space
+for Claude?
+
+Even in these fearful moments she finds herself thinking of the eleven
+swan princes in the fairy tale, and that little rock in mid ocean on
+which they stood crowded together when the sun went down. Claude is
+here, squeezed into the narrow niche by her side, and he is calling out
+to Tim, down below.
+
+"Come up, Tim," he cries, and there is a ring of agony in his voice now.
+
+But Tim's answer reaches them, clear and loud, above the roar of the
+advancing tide.
+
+"I shall not come; there isn't room for three. You know that well
+enough."
+
+"But, Tim, what will you do? I'll come down, and give you my place."
+
+"Stay where you are," Tim shouts sternly. "You've got Bee to take care
+of. And there's a heavy sea rolling in, she'll have to sit fast."
+
+As Tim speaks the flood is surging up to his knees, and the wind, too,
+is rising higher and higher. All around him the waves are foaming over
+the sunken rocks, and the sea-thunder grows louder and more terrible
+every moment.
+
+"I'll come down," cries Claude, making a desperate movement to descend.
+"You sha'n't stop there and drown alone! Do you think I'll be such a
+hound as to let you?"
+
+But Bee with all her strength, holds him back. "Empey, _dear_ Empey,"
+she moans, "stay for my sake!"
+
+"I'll take my chance," Tim sings out cheerily. "I can swim; I mean to
+try for the landing-place."
+
+"You're mad; the tide will dash you on the rocks!" groans Claude, in
+despair. And then, so slight is his foothold that he nearly loses his
+balance in looking downward; and Bee, clinging to him, screams with
+terror.
+
+"I can't bear it!" he says wildly.
+
+How fast the waters rise! Great waves are breaking against the sides of
+the Chair, and leaping up nearer and nearer to the ledge whereon the
+pair support their feet. Once more Claude calls to Tim, passionately,
+almost fiercely,--
+
+"I'll never forgive myself if you are lost! Tim, Tim, where are you?"
+
+And the clear voice comes up, somewhat faintly, from below. "It's all
+right. God bless you and Bee."
+
+A mighty billow flings its cloud of foam over the faces of Claude and
+the shrinking girl by his side, and blinds them with salt spray. But
+high as the tide is, the Chair is still above its reach, and although
+the wave may sprinkle them, it cannot swallow them up. Only they are
+deafened as well as blinded, and Bee feels that she is losing her
+senses. Surely her brain is wandering, else she could never hear the
+notes of the anthem again, and Tim's voice singing the words of the old
+psalm in such exulting tones,--
+
+"The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than
+the mighty waves of the sea."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When night is closing over the little watering-place there are
+rejoicings and lamentations in Nelson Lodge. Aunt Hetty's heart is full
+of gratitude; Claude and Bee brought safely home by old Drake, have
+fallen asleep at last in their rooms, while she steals from chamber to
+chamber to look first at one tired young face and then at the other. But
+the tears hang on Claude's lashes as he sleeps; and more than once Bee
+moves restlessly on her pillow and murmurs Tim's name.
+
+The wind, that has been blowing hard all through the night, subsides
+soon after sunrise. Clouds clear away from the east, and the golden
+morning shines upon the creamy cliffs of White Cove. Just at the foot of
+one of the low rocks lies Tim; his brown face turned up to the sky, and
+his curly hair matted with sea-weed. His life-work is done.
+
+Only Tim;--yes, Master Claude; but what would the world be without such
+souls as Tim's? Fine manners, fine speech, and fine clothes, of these he
+had none, but he had what glorifies the earth's greatest sons, he had
+what the angels rank highly and what God loves, a brave, true, unselfish
+heart.
+
+
+
+
+SMITH'S SISTER.
+
+_A STORY BY A BOY ABOUT A GIRL._
+
+BY ROBERT OVERTON.
+
+
+Before I tell you the story about Smith's sister in particular (said
+Stanislaus Yarrow), I wish to make a few remarks about sisters in
+general.
+
+Sisters are of two kinds--your own and other fellows'. There are
+boys--especially older ones--who consider their own sisters worse than
+other fellows' sisters.
+
+("Hear, hear," cried Martin Abbott, who was strongly suspected of having
+fallen in love with Dr. Audlem's maiden aunt, who was not much more than
+forty).
+
+But the general opinion amongst boys is that all sisters--all girls, in
+fact--are muffs and nuisances.
+
+("So they are," agreed a number of voices cordially).
+
+I thought so myself once. But Smith's sister taught me to take a higher
+view of girls. I admit that they have defects--they can't help 'em.
+There are times when I doubt if even boys are perfect. I freely admit
+that there is a certain amount of idiocy in the ways and manners of
+girls in general. Far be it from me to deny that they squeak and squeal
+when there is no occasion for squeaking and squealing. There is no use
+in denying that they are afraid of mice. Even Smith's sister visibly
+shuddered when I offered to give her my biggest piebald rat, to be her
+very own for ever. But we ought to be charitable and try to overlook
+these things, for, as I said just now, they can't help 'em.
+
+What I insist upon is that there's real grit in girls all the same.
+This is how I work it out: Smith's sister was a brick--Smith's sister is
+a girl--therefore, as one girl can be a brick, so can other girls, other
+sisters, be bricks.
+
+Now for my true yarn. To separate the circumstances of the story from
+the story itself, I will first give you the circumstances.
+
+Smith and I lived next door to each other, and were close chums,
+especially at intervals. He was a very generous chap--he'd give a friend
+anything he'd got. When he was laid low with illness last summer, I
+slipped into his bedroom by way of the verandah, to have a look at him,
+and he gave me the scarlet fever. He was such a very generous chap that
+he never wanted to keep anything all to himself. The fever stayed with
+both of us as long as it could, and left us a good deal weaker than it
+found us. Finding us both in need of a long and thorough change, Smith's
+father and mine put their heads together, and finally decided to send us
+to North Wales for the rest of the summer and the autumn. The idea was
+promptly carried out.
+
+They didn't, strictly speaking, "send" us, for they came with us. In
+fact, it was quite a carriage-ful of us that steamed away north-west
+from Paddington--namely, Smith, myself, Smith's father and mother, my
+father and mother, a number of boxes, portmanteaux, and parcels, and
+Smith's sister. I put her last because at the time she was last in my
+estimation.
+
+We had a lovely journey, to a lovely little out-of-the-way and
+out-of-the-world station, which was spelt with all consonants, and
+pronounced with three sneezes, a cough and two gasps. From the station
+we had a long drive to the remote farmhouse in which our fathers had
+taken apartments.
+
+In this delicious old farmhouse we soon made ourselves--Smith and
+I--quite at home. It was in a beautiful valley. Tremendous hills rose
+all round it. On the very tops of some of the mountains there was snow
+almost all the year round. Glens, and brooks, and streams, and
+waterfalls simply abounded.
+
+After a fortnight our two fathers had to return to London, leaving
+behind them our mothers, us, and Smith's sister.
+
+Oh, what a time we had then! Smith shot me by accident in the leg with
+the farmer's gun--Smith himself got almost drowned in two different
+streams, and was once carried over a waterfall, and dashed against the
+stones. On all three occasions he was getting black in the face when
+pulled out. I fell down a precipice in the mountains, and was rescued
+with the greatest difficulty. On another occasion a neighbouring farmer
+caught us trespassing, and thrashed us with a stick till he was too
+tired to hold it any longer. Smith got bitten by a dog supposed to be
+mad, and a horse kicked me in the stomach.
+
+All was gaiety and excitement. Ah! when shall we have such times again?
+We made inquiries as to whether we were likely to catch scarlet fever a
+second time.
+
+Now Smith's sister screamed at our accidents; she was afraid to join us
+in any of our adventures. She was as old as myself, and only a year
+younger than Smith, but as timid as a chicken--or so we thought her, for
+so she seemed. We tried at first to encourage her, to bring her out a
+little; but it was no good--we just had to leave her to herself.
+
+"She hasn't pluck enough to come with us," Smith used to say as we set
+off on our rambles--"let her stop at home and play with the fowls."
+
+You must understand that we didn't dislike her--we simply despised her.
+I think contempt is worse than dislike--at all events, it is harder to
+bear. Week after week passed away, till at length the end of September
+approached. In a few days we were to go home again.
+
+Now high as all the hills were, there was one that towered above the
+others. From the very first, Smith and I had been warned not to attempt
+to scale this monarch of the mountains, whose crown was sometimes
+visible, sometimes hidden in the clouds. Being warned not to do it, we
+naturally wanted to do it. We had made, in fact, several tries, but had
+always been frustrated. Once or twice Mr. Griffiths--the farmer at
+whose house we were staying--caught us starting, and turned us back.
+
+"Up towards the top of that mountain," he said, on the last occasion,
+"is a place so difficult of access, except by one way, that it is called
+the 'Eagles' Home.' Lives have been lost there. The hill is
+dangerous--the clefts are steep and deep. Leave it alone. There are
+plenty of other hills to climb that are not so dangerous."
+
+That reference to the Eagles' Home was more than we could stand. We
+could make out the very spot he meant. Fancy being up there with the
+eagles near the sky--fancy birds-nesting in the clouds!
+
+"Yarrow," said Smith firmly, "we must do it."
+
+"Or perish in the attempt," I agreed recklessly, quoting from a book I'd
+read.
+
+What we meant was, of course, that before our visit ended we must climb
+that hill, at all events as high as the Eagles' Home.
+
+Our approaching return to London left us with no time to lose. We had
+only four clear days before us.
+
+"We'll make the ascent immediately after dinner to-morrow," said Smith.
+
+"Right you are," replied I.
+
+The next day arrived. Dinner was always over soon after one at the
+farmhouse, and by two o'clock, having slipped quietly and secretly off,
+we were beginning our climb up the hillside. For more than an hour we
+made slow but easy progress, taking a rest every now and then for a
+minute or two. We must have got up a considerable distance, but neither
+the mountain-top nor the Eagles' Home seemed much nearer. On and up we
+trudged, walking faster and determined to take no more rests. We noticed
+how much colder it was, and cast uneasy glances at the dipping sun.
+
+We met a shepherd going down, and stopped him to ask some questions. He
+told us that there was an easy way and a hard way to reach the Eagles'
+Home. The easy way was to follow the path worn up the hill to the left.
+That would take us _above_ the spot. Still following the path as it
+curved round to the right, we should find a comparatively easy way down
+to the "home of the eagles," unless we lost the road, and tumbled down
+one of the many steep declivities.
+
+"Which was the hard way?" we asked.
+
+With a smile, he pointed straight up the mountain-side. It wasn't far
+that way, he said--only that way would take us farther than we wanted to
+go. We looked up the frowning pathless mountain--and knew what he meant.
+We must take the safer and longer way.
+
+"Not that we're _afraid_ of the other," said Smith.
+
+"Of course not," I replied.
+
+In vain the shepherd tried to dissuade us from going any further in the
+failing light: in vain he told us of the dangers we should run. We
+thanked him, put him off with some excuse about going "a little"
+further, and turned resolutely on up the "path" he had pointed us to. It
+was by no means the sort of path we were accustomed to.
+
+On and on and on--I don't know how far we went. But the farther we went
+the more silent we became. Each knew the other knew that he was getting
+more and more uneasy at every step. Each knew the other wasn't going to
+be the first to admit that he was funky.
+
+It grew so awfully cold. It became so awfully dark.
+
+"The moon will be up by-and-by," Smith said.
+
+"Yes," said I; "we shall be all right then. What's this?"
+
+It was too dark to see it, but we felt it in our faces. We put our hands
+on our sleeves and felt it there.
+
+Snow!
+
+We both gave in then, and funked it without disguise. We turned to go
+down, to get home. We tried at first to disbelieve it, but it wasn't
+long before we both gave up the pretence.
+
+"We're lost!" we cried together.
+
+That was just our position. In the cold, dark night, in the midst of a
+rapidly-rising storm and fast-falling snow, we were lost on the wild
+Welsh mountains.
+
+We stumbled about. For a long time--I don't know how long, but it was a
+long time--we stumbled about. That is the only expression I can use, for
+soon we didn't know whether we were moving up or down, left or right. We
+were so numbed, so bewildered. It was so cold up there, though October
+had not yet set in, that we had a vague idea that if we didn't keep on
+moving we should be frozen still, meeting the fate of many other
+mountaineers.
+
+You must bear in mind that we had nothing to eat, nothing to drink, and
+only our summer clothes on. Neither of us had a watch, so we could only
+judge what the time was. Smith's hope that the moon would soon rise
+hadn't been realised, for everything above was as dark and black as
+everything was beneath.
+
+At last a frightful thing happened. Our feet slipped at the same moment,
+and the next moment we were both falling through space. My previous slip
+down a precipice was nothing compared with that awful fall in the
+darkness. Only one thing saved us. Before we struck the ground, we
+managed to break the full force of our fall by grasping the roots and
+branches of some low-growing shrubs and bushes which we felt without
+seeing. We slipped then less rapidly from hold to hold, until, with a
+thud, we struck the earth. It seemed more like the earth striking us.
+
+Smith gave a loud scream of pain--then all was silent.
+
+Smith fainted. I cried. Smith recovered and cried. I left off crying,
+and took his turn at fainting. There's nothing like telling the truth.
+We both prayed. I won't tell you about that, because praying is a thing
+to _do_, not to talk about.
+
+We didn't move about any more. That fall proved that moving about was
+too dangerous. Poor old Smith _couldn't_ move. He couldn't even stand
+up. He tried to once and sank down again with a yell. He had sprained
+his ankle.
+
+Please imagine for a moment that this adventure is being played on the
+stage, and let the curtain fall. Now imagine the curtain raised again.
+
+In the meantime, the storm has died down. The winds are not howling
+now, the snow is not falling. The heavens above us are not so black we
+can see parts of the mountain that drops from our feet into the deep
+invisible valley below. We can see enough to make out where we are. We
+are in the Eagles' Home. Our ambition has been realised--but in what a
+way! We reached the spot neither by the pathway nor up the rugged
+steep--we rolled from the top; we came through the air with the
+snowflakes.
+
+Pretty snowflakes! Smith is hopelessly crippled, and I--the other
+snowflake--am simply a living collection of bumps and bruises. We must
+spend the rest of the bleak night strung up on this dizzy height. We
+must wait till the morning--if we can live through the night.
+
+What's that, down there--far away down there?
+
+A light! a number of lights. They're moving--moving up. They've reached
+the spot where we met the shepherd who told us of the two ways.
+
+They've stopped. Hark! What's that?
+
+A shout--a hail--loud and long continued, as though a lot of people are
+calling together.
+
+Hurrah! We're saved. The farmer has turned out a rescue party to find
+and save us. Hurrah!
+
+Gathering all my strength--all I have left--I answer the hail. Smith
+joins me as well as he can. Once, twice, thrice we shout. We catch the
+distant cry that tells us we have been heard.
+
+For a minute the lights are stationary. Then--their bearers sending up
+another great hail as though to tell us they know where we are and are
+coming--we see the lanterns flashing forward up the track which leads
+above our heads, and then round to the Eagles' Home. Mr. Griffiths, who
+knows the hills as well as he knows his own farm lands, has told them
+where we are from the direction of our frantic voices.
+
+So cheer up, Smith--they're coming.
+
+But they'll be such a long time coming--and we're so cold and numbed.
+Smith is fainting again. So am I, I'm afraid--you must remember I am
+knocked about. It will be such a long time before the coming help
+reaches us.
+
+Will it? Then what's that solitary light stealing up the jagged steep
+below us? Who is it coming to us by the "hard" way, straight up the
+precipitous mountain-side? It must be Griffiths--he's crawling up the
+rough boulders--he's clinging hold of roots and branches, swinging
+himself over the clefts. The shepherd said it couldn't be done--but
+Griffiths is doing it. How torn his hands must be!
+
+I can't be quite fainting, because I can see that Griffiths' lantern is
+coming nearer and nearer.
+
+Listen! I can hear his voice--only it sounds such a weak voice. That is
+because I am getting so weak now myself, though I manage to call back,
+that Griffiths may know just where we are....
+
+Griffiths has reached us. Griffiths is attending to poor old Smith. Now
+he's got his arm round me. Griffiths is pouring a cordial down my throat
+that brings life back into me. I can feel my heart beating again. I'm
+better now. I'll shake Griffiths by the hand. I dare say I shall
+by-and-by. But this is the hand of SMITH'S SISTER!
+
+
+The strain of this theatrical style, and of the present tense, is more
+than I can stand any longer, so I hope it is quite clear to you what had
+happened. Just a few words to sum up.
+
+When the rescue party formed by Mr. Griffiths--as soon as it was obvious
+that Smith and I had lost ourselves--set out, Smith's sister set out
+with them. Griffiths ordered her back. She went back, collared a lantern
+and a flask all to herself (in view of the party separating--what a
+thoughtful girl!), followed and rejoined them. When they stopped and
+halloaed to find whereabouts we were, he ordered her back again, but not
+until she had heard the hasty consultation which resulted in the party
+sticking to the safer way to us. She heard about the "two ways," and she
+dared the one that everybody else was afraid of. The ascent up the
+mountain's face was suggested, but only Smith's sister had the pluck to
+make it. This was the girl we had scorned and laughed at. This was the
+girl whom we had told to stop at home and play with the chickens!
+
+About an hour after she reached us with the "first help" that may have
+saved our lives, we saw the lights of Griffith's party on the crest
+above us. We exchanged shouts, and they let down a rope at once, and
+hauled us up. Long before this, Smith's sister had bound up his injured
+ankle neatly and lightly with her own handkerchief and our
+handkerchiefs.
+
+You should have seen the farmer's face--and, indeed, the faces of all
+the others too--when they realised how she had reached us.
+
+It is all very well for her to say that she didn't know what she was
+doing--that she couldn't have done in the light what she did in the
+dark. All I am concerned with is the fact that she did do what I have
+told you she did.
+
+Referring to the proposition I laid down soon after I started--about
+there being real grit in girls after all--you will understand what I
+meant when I wind up my yarn with the familiar quotation, Q. E. D.
+
+
+
+
+THE COLONEL'S BOY.
+
+BY H. HERVEY.
+
+
+Marjorie had never got on well with her brother's guardian. He was a
+bachelor, stern and autocratic, and with no admiration for woman's ways,
+and she instinctively felt that he did not understand her.
+
+His love for Miles Weyburne, the son of a brother officer who had fallen
+in a skirmish with an Indian frontier tribe thirteen years ago, was a
+thing recognised and beyond question.
+
+Even at the age of ten the boy's likeness to his father had been
+remarkable. He had the same dark, earnest eyes, the same frank, winning
+manner, the same eager enthusiasm; he was soon to develop, to the secret
+pride of his guardian, the same keen interest in his profession, with a
+soundness of judgment and a fearless self-reliance peculiarly his own.
+
+He had gained his star after scarcely a year's service, and had then got
+an exchange into his guardian's regiment.
+
+Colonel Alleson held the command of a midland regimental district. He
+had the reputation of being somewhat of a martinet, and was not
+altogether popular with his men.
+
+Marjorie generally spent her holidays with her aunt in the town, and the
+Colonel occasionally went to see her; but he was nervous and
+constrained, with little to say for himself, and Marjorie always did her
+best to show to a disadvantage when he was there. "He's such a crabby
+old thing," she would say, when Miles grew enthusiastic over the grave,
+taciturn officer,--"besides, he hates girls, you know he does, and I'm
+not going to knuckle under to him." Her brother had explained that the
+Colonel's ideas were old-fashioned, so she sometimes talked slang on
+purpose to shock him. She listened to his abrupt, awkward sentences with
+a half listless, half criticising air. She was a typical school-girl at
+the most characteristic age,--quick to resent, impatient of control,
+straightforward almost to rudeness. The Colonel might be a father to her
+brother--he never could be to her. She often thought about her father
+and mentally contrasted the two: she thought, too, though less often, of
+the mother who had died the very day that that father had fallen in
+action, when she herself was little more than a year old.
+
+Miles had been spending his leave with his aunt, and the day before his
+return to Ireland to rejoin the battalion, he biked over to the barracks
+in company with his sister to say good-bye to his guardian.
+
+"I suppose this is another of the Colonel's fads," Marjorie remarked,
+glancing at the notice board as she got off her bicycle outside the
+gates. "What an old fuss he is, Miles."
+
+"Has he been giving you a lesson in manners?"
+
+"Not he." She tossed back her wavy, golden-brown hair as she spoke. "I
+should like to see him try it on."
+
+Miles gave a short little laugh.
+
+"He got into an awful rage the other day because somebody came through
+here on a bicycle. How are you to read the notice all that way off?"
+
+Miles was not listening to her. Hearing the sound of wheels, he had
+turned round and caught sight of the Colonel's dog-cart. Marjorie
+glanced mischievously at him, and just as the Colonel entered the
+gateway, she deliberately mounted her bicycle and rode through before
+his eyes. There was just room for her to pass. The Colonel reined in,
+and looked sternly round. "Stop!" he said. Marjorie obeyed. Wheeling her
+bicycle forward, she said in her politest manner:
+
+"I beg your pardon. Did you want me?"
+
+"This is quite contrary to regulations."
+
+"Yes, I know," she answered, looking straight at him. "I read the
+notice, but I don't see the sense of it."
+
+There were one or two soldiers standing near, and they exchanged glances
+and smiled. Miles coloured up with shame and vexation. The Colonel gave
+the reins to his groom and got down without another word. He held out
+his hand to Miles as the dog-cart passed on.
+
+"I want to speak to you," he said shortly, and he walked on in front of
+them.
+
+"I hope I shall see you again, Miles," he began, as they ascended the
+steps leading to his quarters. "I have only a few minutes to spare now.
+Come up this evening, will you?"
+
+"Yes, Colonel."
+
+Marjorie moved towards the door. The colour mounted to her cheeks as the
+Colonel stepped forward to open it for her. Miles, feeling that he ought
+to say something, waited behind a minute.
+
+"I'm sorry about--about this," he said. "I don't understand it."
+
+"I do, perfectly--well, good-bye, my boy."
+
+His grave, stern face softened wonderfully as he grasped Miles' hand.
+
+"What an old crosspatch he is," began Marjorie as her brother came up
+with her. "I daren't for the life of me ride through there again. Did
+you see, Miles, he was quite white with rage when I cheeked him? Those
+Tommies thought it awful sport."
+
+"What a little ass you are," said Miles crossly, "to make all that row
+before the men."
+
+Marjorie looked away. "It served him jolly well right," she said,
+pedalling faster.
+
+They rode home the rest of the way in silence.
+
+
+Miles was away with his battalion at the front, and Marjorie was
+spending a fortnight of the Christmas holidays with a school friend at
+Eastbourne. The two girls were hurrying down the esplanade together one
+bright, frosty morning in January when Marjorie suddenly found herself
+face to face with the Colonel. His eyes were bent down, and he passed
+without recognising her. With a few hurried words to her chum, she ran
+after him.
+
+"How do you do, Colonel? I didn't know you were here."
+
+He started as she addressed him. "I only came yesterday," he said; "I
+have got a few days' leave."
+
+"Did you hear from Miles last mail? I did."
+
+"Yes. He has been very regular so far."
+
+"You must miss him awfully. Are you going this way?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I'll come a little way with you, if I may; I wanted to say
+something."
+
+Putting her hands into her jacket pockets, she looked very gravely at
+him.
+
+"I am sorry I was rude that day I came into the Barracks," she said
+hurriedly. "I have been thinking about it. It was horrid of me, when the
+soldiers were there. Will you forgive me?"
+
+"Certainly," he said nervously, putting his hands behind him, and
+walking faster.
+
+"You see, I want to be friends with you," she added frankly, "because of
+Miles. He thinks such a lot of you--the dear boy; good-bye."
+
+Her dark eyes, generally so mocking and mischievous, had grown suddenly
+earnest, and his heart warmed towards her, as he held out his hand.
+
+"Good-bye, Marjorie," he said, "you are very much alike, you and Miles."
+
+"Are we?" she said simply, flushing a little. "I didn't know. I am
+glad."
+
+She walked back to her chum with a beating heart. "He's not so bad," she
+said to herself. "I wish he liked girls."
+
+
+Spion Kop had been abandoned, and the British Army was in orderly
+retreat, when Miles found himself cut off with the remnant of his
+company, by the enemy. The death of his captain had left him in command,
+and realising his responsibility, he made up his mind to act promptly.
+"We are cut off, men," he explained briefly to his soldiers; "will you
+hoist the white flag, or trust to me to bring you through?"
+
+"No surrender, and we stand by you, sir," answered the serjeant major
+gruffly. "Is it agreed, boys?"
+
+There was a general assent.
+
+It was a gallant deed, that desperate dash to rejoin the division,
+though accomplished at a terrible cost. Miles, leading the forlorn hope,
+was soon to pay the price of his daring. They were all but through when
+he fell, shot by a chance bullet.
+
+An hour later his battered troops came up with the British forces. Three
+or four stragglers dropped into camp as the serjeant major was making
+his report.
+
+"Ah!" said the colonel, expressively--"you got through?"
+
+"Yes, sir, beastly hard work, too."
+
+"Who brought you?"
+
+"Lieutenant Weyburne, sir."
+
+"I thought so. He's the kind of fellow for that sort of thing. Is he
+in?"
+
+"He was shot, sir."
+
+"Shot, poor boy. What will Alleson say?"
+
+
+It was Wednesday morning, and the entire strength of the Depôt had
+turned out on parade. The Colonel, tall and dignified in the faultless
+neatness of undress uniform, was standing in his characteristic
+attitude, with his hands behind him and his head thrown slightly back.
+His blue eyes looked out, grave and watchful, from under the peak of his
+fatigue cap, and the tense interlocking of his gloved fingers was the
+only sign of his mental unrest.
+
+Yet the vision of Miles was before him--Miles bold, earnest,
+high-spirited, Miles in the full joy of life and strength, with the
+light of affection in his eyes; Miles again with his boyish face white
+and drawn and his active young form still in death.
+
+He had loved the boy, his boy as he always called him, more even than he
+had realised, and life seemed very blank without the hope of seeing him
+again.
+
+It was two days since his name had appeared in the lists of killed and
+wounded, and that afternoon the Colonel went down to see Marjorie, who
+had returned from Eastbourne a few days before. She looked unusually
+pale when she came into the room, and though she ran forward eagerly
+enough to greet him, her eyes were tearful and her lips quivering, as
+she put her hand into his.
+
+"I thought of writing to you"--began the Colonel nervously, "but----"
+
+"I'm glad you came," said Marjorie, "very glad. I shouldn't mind so much
+if we knew just how he died," she added sorrowfully.
+
+"We know how he would face death, Marjorie!"
+
+She put her arms on the table, and hid her face with a stifled sob.
+
+"He was your boy, and you'll miss him so," she went on. "There's no one
+like him, no one half so dear or half so brave. If I were only a boy I
+might try to be like him and make you happy--but I can't, it's no use."
+
+She was looking up at him with those dark eyes of hers, just as his boy
+had looked at him when he said good-bye three months ago, and he could
+not trust himself to speak.
+
+"I suppose you get used to things," she said with a sigh.
+
+The Colonel put his hand on her head. "Poor child," he said in a husky
+voice, "don't think about me."
+
+"Miles loved you," she answered softly, going up close to him. "I'm his
+sister. Let me love you, too."
+
+He drew her to him in a tender fatherly manner, that brought instant
+comfort to her aching, wilful little heart.
+
+"Your father was my friend, Marjorie," he said,--"the staunchest friend
+man ever had. I have often wondered why we failed to understand each
+other."
+
+"You don't like girls," said Marjorie, "that's why."
+
+The Colonel smiled grimly.
+
+"I didn't," he said. "Perhaps I have changed my mind."
+
+
+Lord Roberts had entered Pretoria, and the Colonel sat in his quarters
+looking through the list of released prisoners. All at once he gave a
+start, glanced hastily around, and then looked back again. About half
+way down the list of officers, he read:
+
+"Lieut. M. Weyburne (reported killed at Spion Kop)."
+
+Miles was alive: there had been some mistake. The bugle sounded. It was
+a quarter past nine. He walked out on to the parade-ground with his
+usual firm step, smiling as he went. Miles was alive. He could have
+dashed down the barrack-square like a bugler-boy in the lightness of his
+heart.
+
+People who met him that day hastened to congratulate him. He said very
+little, but looked years younger.
+
+Three weeks later there came a letter from Miles, explaining how he had
+been left upon the ground for dead, and on coming to himself, had fallen
+unarmed into the hands of the Boers. He had never fully recovered from
+his wounds, and by the doctor's orders had been invalided home, so that
+his guardian might expect him about ten days after receiving his letter.
+
+It was a happy home-coming. The Colonel went down to Southampton to meet
+him, and when he reached his aunt's house he found a letter from
+Marjorie awaiting him. "The Colonel's a dear," she wrote; "I understand
+now why you think such a lot of him."
+
+Miles turned with a smile to his guardian.
+
+"You and Marjorie are friends at last, Colonel," he said.
+
+"Yes, my boy," he returned gravely; "we know each other better now."
+
+
+
+
+'TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH.
+
+_A MANX STORY._
+
+BY CLUCAS JOUGHIN.
+
+
+PART I.
+
+
+Deborah Shimmin was neither tall nor fair, and yet Nature had been kind
+to her in many ways. She had wonderful eyes--large, dark, and full of
+mute eloquence--and if her mouth was too large, her nose too irregular,
+and her cheeks too much tanned by rude health, and by exposure to the
+sun as the village gossips said, I, Henry Kinnish, poetic dreamer, and
+amateur sculptor, thought she had a symmetry of form and a grace of
+movement which wrought her whole being into harmony and made her a
+perfect example of beauty with a plain face; and every one knew that
+Andrew, the young village blacksmith and rural postman, loved her with
+all the might of his big, brawny soul.
+
+These two ideas of Deborah's beauty and Andrew's love for her, were
+revealed to me one day when, with Deborah's master, his lumbering sons
+and comely daughters, and my chum Fred Harcourt, an artist from "across
+the water," we were cutting some early grass in May, just before the
+full bloom of the gorse had begun to fade from the hillsides and from
+the tops of the hedges where it had made borders of gold for the green
+of the fields all the spring.
+
+A soft west wind, which blew in from the sea, made waves along the uncut
+grass to windward of the mowers, and played around the skirts of
+Deborah, making them flutter about her, while the exertion of the
+haymaking occasionally let loose her long, strong black hair.
+
+But the face of Deborah was sad; for the village policeman had laid a
+charge against her before his chief to make her account for her
+possession of a large number of seagulls' eggs, to take which the law of
+the Island had made a punishable offence, by an act of Tynwald passed to
+protect the sea fowl from extinction.
+
+The eggs, all fresh, and newly taken from the nests, had been found on
+Deborah's dressing-table; but Deborah indignantly denied all knowledge
+of the means by which they had got there. There was a mystery about it
+to every one, for fresh clutches were seen there every morning, and the
+innocent Deborah made no attempt to conceal them. Where, then, could
+they come from but from some nests of the colony of seagulls which lived
+in the haughs that dropped down into the sea from Rhaby Hills? But no
+woman, young or old, could climb the craigs where the gulls had their
+nests. It was a feat of daring only performed by reckless boys and young
+men who were reared on the littoral, and who were strong and spirited
+craigsmen by inheritance and by familiarity with the dangerous sport of
+egg-collecting among the giddy heights of precipices on which, if they
+took but one false step, they might be hurled to certain destruction
+below.
+
+When the mowers had made all but the last swath, and there were only a
+few more rucks of the early hay to be made in the field, Cubbin, the
+rural constable, came in from the highroad with Andrew, the smith. The
+hot and sweated mowers did not stop the swing of their scythes, but they
+talked loudly amongst themselves in imprecations against the new law
+which made it a criminal offence for a lad to take a few gull's eggs,
+which they, and their fathers before them, had gone sporting after in
+the good old times when men did what they thought right.
+
+The bronzed face of Deborah Shimmin paled, her lips set into a resolve
+of courage when she saw Andrew in the hands of the police; and I learnt
+for the first time that Andrew was looked upon as the robber and Deborah
+as the receiver of the stolen eggs. I saw more than this, I saw, by one
+look, that the heart of Deborah and the heart of the tall, lithe lad,
+who now stood before me, were as one heart in love and in determination
+to stand by each other in the coming trial.
+
+The big hands of the young smith were thrust into his pockets, and a
+smile played over his honest face; but Deborah looked at the constable
+with a hard, defiant look, and then bent over her work again as if
+waiting to hear him say something dreadful which she was resolved to
+throw back into his face, though her hand trembled as she held the fork,
+which moved now faster and stronger than before.
+
+But Cubbin was a man of the gospel of peace though he was an officer of
+the law, and he only looked sadly on the face of Deborah as he asked her
+whether it would not be better for her to say where she got her supply
+of eggs from than allow him to get a summons against Andrew.
+
+"I have told you before that Andrew never gave me the eggs!" cried the
+girl, her face flushed with the crimson setting of the sun, "and I don't
+know where they came from. I can't say anything different, and I wish
+you would not trouble me, Mr. Cubbin!"
+
+Fred and I called Cubbin, the constable, to one side, and asked him to
+allow us a day or two to solve the mystery of the eggs--a little
+arrangement which may seem strange to dwellers in towns, but which was
+quite practicable at this time in this far-off place, and which he soon
+agreed to allow.
+
+I had been out shooting corncrakes that day, and Fred Harcourt had come
+with me for a day in the meadows, as his brush and palette had wearied
+him of late, and he longed to stretch his limbs and to see my spaniels
+work in the weedy hedges and in the meadows, where the grass had stood
+the test of the dry spring. We had taken off our coats to help our
+neighbour with his sunburnt grass, and our guns were laid across them.
+The spaniels had fallen asleep--using the coats as beds. While
+conversing with Cubbin we had walked quietly to get our coats, and I saw
+that one of the sleeping dogs was still hunting in his dreams. There was
+nothing uncommon about this, for dogs will hunt in their sleep; but
+some inner voice said to me that Deborah Shimmin, being a highly strung,
+nervous girl, might hunt in her sleep also, and that such things as
+somnambulists walking the roofs of high houses had been heard of, and I
+remembered a lad in my own boyhood's days who was awakened early one
+morning by the riverside with his rod in his hand and his basket slung
+over his nightshirt. But I did not communicate my theory of the solution
+of the mystery of the eggs to Cubbin, the constable.
+
+When the policeman left the field I entered into a kindly talk with
+Deborah Shimmin, and was not long in learning what the girl herself had
+probably never thought of, that on the public reading of the Act for the
+protection of sea-fowl, on the Tynwald day of the previous year, she had
+been impressed by the thought that Andrew would now be forbidden to
+employ his agility and his courage in a form of sport she often tried to
+dissuade him from.
+
+I knew before this that she had recently lost her mother, and had
+suffered a bereavement through a favourite brother being lost at sea one
+stormy night at the back-end herring fishing off Howth Head.
+
+"Poor Deborah," I said to Fred, "she is all nerves, and the hand of
+life's troubles is holding her; surely she must be innocent of
+encouraging her lover in risking his life--the only precious life left
+to her now!"
+
+"And the jolly Andrew," said Fred, "certainly looked the most amusing
+picture of innocence, as Cubbin trotted him along the grass! But your
+theory of the somnambulant business is a bit fanciful, all the same."
+
+
+PART II.
+
+
+At ten o'clock that night Fred Harcourt and I were bivouaced within
+sight of the only door of the house where Deborah Shimmin worked as a
+domestic help in the family of her uncle. The night was not dark, it
+seldom is dark in these northern islands so late in May, but there was
+a light of the moon at its first quarter, and a glint of some stars
+shone down upon us as we hearkened to the stillness of the air and to a
+frequent movement of a tired horse in the stable.
+
+Our bivouac was a clump of trammon trees (elders) at the corner of the
+orchard which adjoined the farm buildings. Between us and the dwelling
+house there was a disused pigsty. At about a quarter to eleven o'clock a
+man, with a red setter dog at his heels and a fowling piece on his arm,
+came sneaking up, and crept into the sty.
+
+Then there was another long spell of silence, not broken, but rather
+intensified, by the words which I whispered to Fred Harcourt that the
+fellow who crept into the sty was Kit Kermode, and that he could be
+after no good.
+
+At midnight a cock crew at the far end of the village, and a dog barked.
+Then there was silence again, save that every now and again a sedge
+warbler, far away by the stream near Shenvarla, sang a faintly audible
+song. Our position on the slope of the foot-hill at Gordon House was
+between the village and the hills which girt the sea coast. This made my
+theory of the sleep-walking to the cliffs more plausible. But while we
+lay low in the clump of trammon trees the appearance of Kit Kermode,
+with his cat-like walk and his eyes that could wink slander faster than
+any old woman's tongue could wag it, gave me a theory, or at least a
+speculation, in another direction.
+
+In soft whispers to Fred Harcourt, who was new to the village, I told
+him how the rascal Kermode hated Andrew the blacksmith. "He hates him,"
+I said, "I do verily believe, for his good honest face, his manly
+outspoken tongue, his courage, and his power of arm, but most of all he
+hates him since Andrew, years ago as an innocent and unthinking lad, ran
+after him in the village street and handed him a reminder of some money
+which he owed his master."
+
+"But what can that have to do with Deborah Shimmin's gulls' eggs?" asked
+Fred, whose mind never seemed to see anything but pictures of divers
+colours and inspiring outlines in the happy dreamland he lived in, all
+unconscious of the world's cruelty, and hate, and love of evil.
+
+I had just finished telling him that a man like Kermode might bribe a
+boy to get him gulls' eggs, and sneak up to Deborah's window and quietly
+reach in and place the eggs on her dressing-table, as a means of getting
+Deborah and Andrew into trouble. I had just finished giving this outline
+of the thought in my mind, I say, when the door of the farmhouse opened
+and Deborah Shimmin, clad only in her nightdress, stepped lightly forth
+and started up the hillside.
+
+The next moment the man, his gun in the hollow of his arm and the red
+setter dog at his heels, crawled forth from the pigsty, looked round as
+if to make certain he was not watched, and followed the white figure of
+the girl as she glided up the zig-zag path in the direction of the
+haughs which formed the wild sea coast.
+
+It did not take Fred and me very long to take off our boots and
+noiselessly follow, guided by the figure in white, rather than by the
+man who went before us, for the dim light of the moon and the northern
+night made his dark dress difficult to see in the shadows of the hedges
+and trees.
+
+I knew that Deborah would take the usual path to the rocks, and bade
+Fred follow close behind me while I took a shorter route. In ten minutes
+we were again under cover when the girl passed close by us, her long
+hair knotted roughly into a mass of rolls about her large and
+well-formed head. Her eyes were open, and fixed in a glassy stare
+straight ahead. She seemed to move along, rather than walk, and had no
+appearance of either hesitation or haste; and Kermode, with his dog and
+his gun, stealthily followed in her wake not twenty yards behind.
+
+While we were crossing the field bordering the Gordon haughs, keeping
+under the shadow of a gorse-clad hedge, Deborah disappeared over the
+cliff, and the man, watched by Fred and myself, crept up to the edge of
+the cliffs down which the poor girl had descended.
+
+Before another minute had elapsed, Kermode had stretched himself out
+his full length on a craig which overlooked the precipitous rocks down
+which Deborah had disappeared. We then secured the cover of a mound not
+thirty feet away from him.
+
+The dog gave a low whine when he saw the head of his master craned out
+to watch the movements of the white figure descending the rocks, and
+then all was quiet as before.
+
+Fred's suspense and anxiety for the safety of the girl was apparent in
+his hard breathing; but my own were inconsiderable, for I knew that if
+undisturbed by any noise unusual to the night, or any interference by
+the fellow who now held the future happiness of Andrew, the smith, in
+his hands she would safely climb up the haugh and make her way home to
+bed, all unconscious of the awful position she had placed herself in.
+
+Wicked as I knew the man to be, I did not now imagine that he had any
+other intention in watching around the house than to try to discover
+Andrew paying a nocturnal visit, with some gulls' eggs for his
+sweetheart. This would have been a mean enough act, but it seems a small
+thing beside the cruel and murderous deed he would have committed but
+for the providential presence and prompt action of Fred Harcourt and
+myself.
+
+Fred and I lay low, with our chins resting on our hands, not daring even
+to whisper. The dog whined a little now and again, and we heard the
+subdued cries of seagulls as they flew off, alarmed in the darkness,
+over the sea. Still Deborah did not make her appearance on the top of
+the cliff. It seemed a long time that we lay and watched thus, but it
+could not have been so long as it seemed.
+
+Then Kermode, without raising himself from watching the climbing girl,
+reached back for the gun which he had placed on the ground by his side.
+He raised it to the level of his face, resting his left elbow on the
+ground, and I heard the click of the hammer as he cocked it. Then I saw
+his thumb and finger go into his waistcoat pocket.
+
+"Good God!" I said in a loud whisper, as I sprang to my feet, for I
+knew in one awful moment that the villain was feeling for a cap to
+discharge a shot in the air above the head of Deborah, who would wake up
+at the shock, and fall to the base of the craig in her terrible fright.
+So intent was Kermode in his fell design of frightening the girl to her
+destruction that he did not hear me, or notice the growl of his dog, or
+feel the vibration of our tread as we both bore down upon him. We should
+have been too late if it had not been for the life-long habit of the
+wretch to secure himself from danger or suspicion. With his finger on
+the trigger, all ready to pull, he paused one moment to raise himself
+and look about. That moment saved the life of Deborah Shimmin, for the
+would-be murderer was the next instant under the knee of Fred Harcourt
+and his throat in his grip, while my hand was over the nipples of the
+gun. While we were all on the ground together, and the setter dog had a
+hold of Harcourt's leg, the tall form of Cubbin, the policeman, bent
+over us. I had lowered the hammers of the gun and thrown it to one side
+to grasp the dog, for Harcourt would not let go his hold of Kermode's
+throat lest he should shout and wake the girl.
+
+"Gag Kermode," I said to Cubbin, as I hit the dog just above the snout
+with a stone, killing him by one blow.
+
+Then Deborah Shimmin, holding something in a fold of her nightdress with
+one hand, and climbing with the other, came up over the edge of the
+cliff a few yards away from us.
+
+She looked very beautiful as she stepped up on the sloping sward above
+the haugh, with the pale moonlight just lighting her airy dress, and her
+face all sad and careworn.
+
+Leaving Kermode to the care of the constable, Fred and I noiselessly
+followed the girl home, and saw her step over the obstacles in her path
+as by instinct, turning her face neither to the right nor left.
+
+We decided to awaken her before she reached the door of the farmhouse,
+so that, according to the popular notion, she might never again become
+somnambulent.
+
+With this view I stepped before her as she approached the door, but was
+astonished to find that she paused as if my presence blocked the way
+before she yet saw me or touched me. But there was no misunderstanding
+the blank stare in her wonderful eyes.
+
+I gently put out my hand and took hers, as she put it out before her to
+feel the influence of a presence she could not see.
+
+She did not scream or faint. She awoke with a start, and let the eggs
+fall on the ground.
+
+At first she could not understand where she was, and just thought she
+was dreaming; but by degrees it came to her that she was standing before
+me in the pale moonlight when she thought she ought to be in bed.
+
+Then I softly told her where she had been in her sleep, keeping back all
+knowledge of Kermode's attempted revenge on Andrew, and how we had
+decided to awake her. Then, with a little pleasant laugh, we both told
+her that the mystery of the seagulls' eggs was solved, and that neither
+Andrew nor she would be troubled again.
+
+She fell to sobbing a little, and for the first time seemed to shiver
+with the cold; then she lifted the latch and we bade her good night.
+
+Nothing was done to Kermode, for the fellow swore he had no intention of
+discharging the gun, and we could not prove he had, though the case was
+clear enough in our eyes, and the deed would have been done had we not,
+in God's providence, been there to prevent it.
+
+Cubbin, the constable, it transpired afterwards, had overheard me giving
+my theory of the sleep-walking to Fred in the hayfield, and he, too, had
+been in hiding at the farm, and had watched and followed us all.
+
+So there was a wonderful story for him to tell of how Deborah had made
+good her defence against the charge he had laid against Andrew and her.
+And the beautiful Deborah with the plain face became the bride of the
+jolly Andrew, who was neither an artist nor an amateur sculptor, but
+only a village blacksmith who had an eye for beauty of form and
+character.
+
+
+
+
+ROSE'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT.
+
+_A TRUE STORY._
+
+BY MARIE E. C. DELBRASSINE.
+
+
+"Where is Rose?"
+
+"Busy, as usual, with her mice and beetles, I suppose, father," answered
+Ethel; "we have not seen her all this afternoon."
+
+"She will probably be with you at teatime," said Dr. Sinclair, "after
+which I should like you to ask her to come to me for a little while in
+the surgery."
+
+"Very well, father, I won't forget."
+
+Dr. Sinclair retreated again to his surgery, which was arranged also as
+his library, knowing that his willing helper would not fail to join him
+there.
+
+"I cannot think," said Maud, Ethel's sister, "what that girl finds to
+interest her in all those horrid creatures--beetles and toads, and even
+snakes, when she can get one; the other day I saw her handling a
+slowworm as if it were a charming domestic pet. It was enough to make
+one feel cold all over."
+
+"Well, there is no accounting for taste; Rose never seems to care if she
+is asked to a party or not," continued Ethel, "and she does not mind
+helping father with his work, which I always find so tiresome, for he is
+so dreadfully particular about it. Perhaps biologists are different from
+other folks; I sometimes think there is something uncannny and queer
+about them."
+
+"I'm sure Rose is neither uncanny nor queer, she's just a brick," said
+Jack, a schoolboy of fourteen, who was enjoying a Saturday half-holiday
+at home with a new book, it being too wet to play cricket. "She is
+always willing to do anything to help a fellow."
+
+"Which means," said Ethel, "that you always expect girls to be your
+slaves, when you are at home."
+
+At this moment the door opened and Rose herself appeared.
+
+"Well, Rose," said Maud, "have you pinned out a beetle, or taught your
+pet ants to perform tricks?"
+
+"Not this afternoon," said Rose; "I have had a delightful time with my
+microscope, studying spiders and drawing slides for the magic lantern to
+be used at my next little lecture to the G.F.S. girls."
+
+"That sounds dry and uninteresting," yawned Maud. "Ah, here comes tea.
+By the way, father would like you to go to his study afterwards. Poor
+Rose, I expect he has some more tiresome work for you."
+
+"Oh, don't call it tiresome, Maud dear; I quite enjoy it."
+
+"It's a good thing you do. I hate being shut up there; it's such a
+bore."
+
+A quarter of an hour later a middle-aged man, whose snow-white hair made
+him appear at first sight much older than he was in reality, might have
+been seen busy over a manuscript, whilst a fair girl sat beside him,
+reading out to him the notes he had made, and which he was working into
+the book he was writing. The two seemed to work in perfect harmony.
+
+Rose's father had been the rector of a remote country parish in
+Cornwall. Most of his friends said that he was lost in such a
+neighbourhood, and that it was a shame to have sent so able a man to
+such a parish; but Mr. Sinclair never complained himself; he may
+sometimes have thought it strange that other men were chosen before him
+to occupy positions which he felt conscious he might well have filled,
+but as his lot was cast in that Cornish nook, he had thrown himself
+heart and soul into whatever work he found to do. The affection he won
+from the rough fisherfolk, who regarded him as the father of the parish,
+whose joys and sorrows, cares and anxieties, were all well known to him,
+was as much to him as any brilliant worldly success. His means were
+small, too small for his generous heart. He wished to give as good an
+education as possible to his two children, Henry and Rose, and devoted
+much time and trouble to that end. For several years he taught the boy
+and girl together himself, Rose learning much the same lessons as her
+brother; this laid the foundation of the accuracy which characterised
+her in any task she undertook--a quality often lacking in feminine work.
+
+Mr. Sinclair had been a good student of natural history, and had written
+books and magazine articles which had been well thought of. Rose tried
+to follow her father's pursuit; she would spend hours in reading about
+birds and butterflies, and in making little researches herself. One of
+her greatest pleasures had been to help her father, either by taking
+notes for him or by writing at his dictation. She hoped herself some day
+to add to her pecuniary resources by writing for biological papers or
+even by giving lectures.
+
+But the happy home life in the Cornish rectory was to end all too
+quickly. Rose lost both her parents within a short time of each other;
+her brother was at Oxford, working hard; and Rose was left alone, and
+had to leave the home which was so dear to her.
+
+It was then that her uncle, Dr. Sinclair, without a moment's hesitation,
+offered her a home in his house. He did not listen to warning voices,
+cautioning him against burdening himself with the charge of another
+girl, for his own means were not large, and his family made many demands
+upon his purse. He was a physician whose career might have been a
+brilliant one had his practice been in London; but a fanciful and
+invalid wife had rendered this impossible, as she declared she could
+only exist in the pure air of the country.
+
+So he had reluctantly abandoned his cherished hope of working as a
+London doctor, and had settled near a small country town in
+Gloucestershire, where he soon obtained most of the practice round; but
+his scope was narrow. He nevertheless managed to keep in touch with his
+profession, a profession in which he had entered heart and soul, making
+various scientific researches in his laboratory, and sending the fruit
+of them in clearly-written articles to medical papers. Now for this
+work, either in writing short articles from his notes, or from his
+dictation, a patient helper was of great assistance to him. His own
+daughters, as already seen, disliked the work, and showed their father
+no sympathy in it, whereas to Rose it was real enjoyment, filling, in a
+measure, the void she felt in no longer helping her father. Between
+uncle and niece a tacit sympathy had grown up. He encouraged her in her
+natural history pursuits, and helped her to start the lectures she gave
+to the G.F.S. girls in the neighbourhood. The suggestion had seemed
+little likely to interest them, but Rose had been so clear and explicit
+that the girls soon became eager for them.
+
+Time went on in this way, when something happened which was again to
+change Rose's circumstances. Truly it is that often trifles light as air
+have an unknown weight of importance in them. One morning the letter-bag
+brought a circular announcing that some "University Extension Lectures"
+were to be given at C----, their nearest town, by a professor from
+Oxford, the subject chosen being "Spiders," with notes from the
+microscope.
+
+When Dr. Sinclair had read it, he passed it, smiling kindly, to Rose.
+
+"This is not for me," he said, "but I think I know some one whom it may
+interest."
+
+"Oh, uncle! how delightful," said Rose, when she had looked at it; "the
+very thing I should enjoy!"
+
+So it came to pass that Rose attended the lectures, entering very fully
+into them, and taking careful notes.
+
+At the close of the course, the lecturer said he would like any of the
+students who felt sufficiently interested in the subject to write a
+paper, and send it in to him, giving a summary of the lectures, and
+asking any questions they might care to ask, at the end.
+
+Rose and several others responded to the invitation, and wrote their
+papers.
+
+For some time Rose heard no more about it, but one morning she was
+surprised to receive the following note:--
+
+     "DEAR MADAM,--I have felt much satisfaction in reading your
+     paper, which I return, with a few notes and answers to your
+     questions. It shows me with what intelligent interest you
+     have followed my lectures.
+
+     "It may interest you to know that an examination for a
+     scholarship at St. Margaret's Hall, the new college for
+     women, is shortly to be held at Oxford; and if you care to
+     pursue a subject for which you show much understanding, I
+     would suggest your trying for it. I don't promise you
+     success, but I think it is worth the venture. A friend of
+     mine, a lady living in Oxford, receives lady students
+     recommended by me, and would, I am sure, make you
+     comfortable on very moderate terms. Yours truly,
+
+     "B. FIELDING."
+
+Rose read the letter two or three times and then passed it to her uncle.
+Had she the means to go there--if, oh, _if_ she could only get the
+scholarship, how delightful it would be!
+
+"Come to my study," said Dr. Sinclair.
+
+And as soon as the door was shut he said kindly,--
+
+"I don't like you to lose this opportunity, dear child, so write and
+tell Mr. Fielding you will go up to Oxford, if he will introduce you to
+the lady he mentions."
+
+"Oh, but, uncle," she said, "what Mr. Fielding may call moderate terms
+may really mean a great deal more than should be paid for me."
+
+"Never mind, little Rose," said Dr. Sinclair, "I meant to give my kind
+little helper a birthday present, and this shall be it."
+
+"Dear uncle, how kind of you. But remember, that whatever help, as you
+term it, I may have given you, has always been a pleasure to me."
+
+"And so, dear, is anything that I may do for you to me."
+
+Thus it was settled, and a few days later, Dr. Sinclair himself started
+for his own beloved Oxford with his niece. Jack and Maud went to the
+station to see them off.
+
+"Keep up your courage, Rose," said Jack, "you're pretty sure to pass,
+for if any girl in England knows about creepy, crawley things, you do!"
+
+When Rose returned some days later, she looked rather overstrained and
+pale, and, to the surprise of Ethel and Maud, never looked at her
+microscope, or at any of her treasures in the way of beetles and
+tadpoles, but spent her time in complete idleness, except when she
+helped them to do up some of their evening clothes for some forthcoming
+dances; and they were surprised to see how deftly a biologist could sew.
+
+One Saturday, as the three girls were sitting working together, Jack,
+who was spending his half-holiday at home again, said, "Why, here comes
+the telegraph boy!"
+
+"Run and see who it is for," said Ethel, who had lately shown much more
+sympathetic interest in Rose, and who began to realise that if Rose
+obtained what she was so keenly set on, she, as well as others, might
+miss the cousin who had been so kind and so unselfish an inmate of their
+home. "Run and see, Jack; and if it is for any of us, bring it here."
+
+Rose looked very white, but did not look up from her work.
+
+"Addressed to Miss Rose Sinclair," said Jack, who soon returned.
+
+Rose took the telegram with trembling fingers, and then tore it open.
+
+It announced the following:--
+
+"_Rose Sinclair passed first. Awarded scholarship St. Margaret's for
+three years._"
+
+"Oh, Ethel!" said Rose, "it is too good to be true."
+
+"I knew you would pass," said Jack, "I always said you would, didn't I,
+now?"
+
+"Well," said Ethel, "we ought to be very glad for your sake."
+
+"Yes," said Maud, "I congratulate you, Rose--but, I am very, very sorry
+you are going away."
+
+"Are you, dear?" said Rose; "I also shall feel lonely without all of
+you, in this my second home. But let us go and tell uncle, for I
+consider this his special birthday gift to me."
+
+"So it is," said Dr. Sinclair, who appeared at that moment.
+
+"Then your old uncle is much gratified in sending his niece to Oxford;
+but he will miss his little girl very much."
+
+Rose distinguished herself even far above Jack's expectation. After she
+had concluded her college course, she devoted her time and knowledge to
+giving lectures, for which she received remuneration, also to writing
+articles for magazines, and subsequent events led to her settling in
+Oxford. Whenever Dr. Sinclair wants an especially enjoyable holiday, he
+goes to spend a few days with Rose, and the two compare notes on their
+work. When he expresses his pleasure at her success, Rose loves to
+remind him that she owes it greatly to his kindness that she was placed
+in the way of obtaining it, through the birthday gift, which was to be
+so helpful to her.
+
+
+
+
+DOLLY HARDCASTLE'S ROSEBUDS.
+
+_A CITY IDYLL_
+
+BY CHARLES E. PEARCE.
+
+
+Jack Cameron's office was a handsome apartment. It was approached by a
+broad staircase, the balusters of which were impressive from their
+solidity and design. The office door had a species of ornamental
+pediment over it, and the room itself had panelled walls of a pale
+green, a chimneypiece of portentous size, and a highly ornamental
+ceiling.
+
+Up the staircase tripped a little lady--a pleasant vision of a silk
+blouse, butter-coloured lace, golden hair, fawn gloves, and tan
+bottines, leaving behind her an atmosphere redolent of the latest
+fashionable perfume mingled with the more delicate scent of the Marechal
+Niel roses in her corsage.
+
+She knocked at the door, and, as there was no response from within,
+turned the handle.
+
+"May I come in, please?" she said laughingly.
+
+A young man was standing in a corner of the room opposite the
+telegraphic machine, from which the "tape" was issuing with a monotonous
+click. On this "tape"--a narrow strip of paper seemingly endless, which
+fell on the floor in serpentine coils--were inscribed at regular
+intervals some cabalistic characters unintelligible to the general
+public, but full of meaning to the initiated.
+
+He turned at the sound of the voice. "What! Dolly?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, Jack; didn't you expect me?"
+
+"Of course--of course," answered Jack Cameron, rather confusedly.
+
+The girl crossed the room, and, taking both the hands of the young man,
+looked into his eyes.
+
+"You are worried," said she softly.
+
+"Oh, only a little. One is bound to have worries in business, especially
+when the market's feverish. But I'm awfully glad you've come. I shall
+forget all my bothers now you are here."
+
+His tone brightened, and the shadow that was beginning to steal over the
+girl's face disappeared.
+
+They were engaged. The wedding-day was fixed for the following week;
+naturally there was much to do in the way of house furnishing, and the
+bride elect was happy. Shopping before marriage has a distinct charm of
+its own. The feminine mind attaches to each purchase an ideal pleasure.
+Then there is the special joy of being entrusted by her future husband
+with money, and the pride of showing him how well she can bargain.
+
+Jack Cameron was a stockbroker, and had done fairly well in South
+Africans. But like a good many others he had kept his "Narbatos" too
+long, and he saw his way to lose some money; not enough to seriously
+damage his stability, but enough to inconvenience him at this especial
+time when he was thinking of taking a wife.
+
+Dolly Hardcastle knew nothing at all about this. Indeed, she knew
+nothing about stockbroking. It seemed to her simply a pleasant, light,
+gentlemanly profession, consisting principally in standing in
+Throgmorton Street, with one's hat tilted backwards, smoking cigarettes,
+eating oranges or strawberries according to the season, and talking
+about cricket or football.
+
+This was the first time she had been to Jack's office, and she was
+prettily curious about everything--especially the telephone. She was not
+satisfied until Jack had shown her how to work the apparatus.
+
+The "ticker" was also an all-absorbing object of attention The
+continuous "click, click," and the issuing of the tape without any
+apparent motive power, had something of the supernatural about it. Dolly
+looked at the white strips with wonder.
+
+"What does this say, Jack? N-a-r-Narbatos, 2 ½. What does it mean?"
+
+Alas! Jack Cameron knew too well what it meant. Narbatos had gone down
+with a "slump." When Miss Hardcastle called he was debating whether he
+should sell. This quotation decided him.
+
+"Dolly," said he hurriedly, "do you mind me leaving you for five minutes
+alone while I run into the 'House'?"
+
+No, Dolly did not mind. Business, of course, must be attended to. Jack
+seized his hat, snatched a kiss, and vanished.
+
+"Dear old Jack," said Dolly, seating herself at the office table and
+staring at the ticker. "I wonder whether he has many callers? Whatever
+shall I do if anybody comes?"
+
+She was considering this matter, with the assistance of the paper-knife,
+pressed against her pretty lips, when the sharp ting, ting, ting, of the
+telephone startled her.
+
+Somebody wanted to speak to Jack. It might be important. Hadn't she
+better go to the telephone? It was so nice to be able to help her future
+husband.
+
+"I wonder whether I could imitate Jack's voice?"
+
+She went to the telephone and did exactly as Jack had instructed her to
+do. She heard a sepulchral voice say, "Are you there?"
+
+"Yes," said Dolly boldly.
+
+"I have an offer of 5,000 Rosebuds. Will you take the lot, as you said
+you would when we were talking about them the other day? Wire just
+come."
+
+"Five thousand rosebuds!" cried Dolly, with flashing eyes and cheeks
+like the flowers just mentioned. "Then Jack is going to have the church
+decorated after all. Darling fellow; he hasn't even forgotten the wire
+for fastening them."
+
+The man at the other end was evidently impatient, for he shouted that
+Jack must decide at once. As the matter was one which concerned Dolly,
+she had no hesitation what answer to give.
+
+"Yes," she declared, in as bass a tone as she could assume.
+
+She felt half inclined to waltz round the room, but she was afraid of
+disturbing the occupant of the office below. Gradually she sobered down,
+and by the time Jack Cameron returned she was quite sedate.
+
+Jack had sold his Narbatos, and had lost £500 over the deal. But it was
+no use crying over spilt milk. The immediate effect was that he would
+have to be very economical over his honeymoon expenses. However, he
+wouldn't say anything about the matter to Dolly that day. He would carry
+out his promise--give her a nice luncheon at Birch's.
+
+And so, putting on a mask of gaiety to conceal his real feelings, he
+piloted his fiancée across Broad Street and Cornhill.
+
+That luncheon took a long time. Basking in the smiles of his Dolly, he
+gradually forgot stocks, shares, backwardations, and contangoes. Then,
+when they came from Birch's, Dolly wanted to see the new frescoes at the
+Royal Exchange, and she had to be obeyed.
+
+It was quite three o'clock when he bethought himself that, though wooing
+was very pleasant, he had several important letters to write, and must
+return to his office.
+
+"Thank you, Jack, dear, for being so nice to me to-day," whispered
+Dolly, as they strolled towards the entrance of the Exchange; "and thank
+you especially for letting me have the church decorated. The roses will
+make the dear old place look sweetly pretty."
+
+Jack stared. Had his Dolly taken leave of her senses?
+
+"Decorations--roses!" he exclaimed, mechanically. "I don't understand."
+
+"Ah, that's very clever of you," laughed Dolly, "pretending you know
+nothing about it. You wanted to surprise me."
+
+"Upon my word I had no intention of having the church decorated. I
+should like to please you, of course, but----"
+
+Well, he had already decided that the church decoration was one of the
+expenses he would do without.
+
+"Come now, confess. Haven't you ordered a quantity of rosebuds? You must
+have forgotten. Anyway, it's all right, for while you were away from
+your office there came a message through the telephone asking whether
+you'd take 5,000 rosebuds you were talking to somebody about the other
+day and of course I said yes. Gracious! Jack, dear, what is the matter?"
+
+"Rosebuds--telephone. Of course, I see what has happened," faltered the
+young stockbroker. "Oh, Dolly--Dolly."
+
+"What have I done? Nothing very serious, I hope. If you don't want to
+have the church decorated, why, I--I--shan't mind very--very much."
+
+"It isn't that at all," said Jack, looking very queer. "Of course you
+didn't know. Unluckily the message didn't mean flowers, but shares in
+the 'Rosebud Gold Mining Company.'"
+
+"Oh!"
+
+It was quite true that Jack had contemplated speculating in "Rosebud"
+shares, but he had heard some disquieting rumours about the mine, and
+had decided not to touch them. And here he was the prospective owner of
+5,000! Only two days before the quotation was 10s., with a tendency to
+drop. To take them up was impossible, to sell would mean a loss.
+
+"Dolly," said he hurriedly, "let me see you into an omnibus." And, after
+a hasty farewell, he packed the young lady into a Kensington 'bus, and
+rushed to the Mining door of the Stock Exchange in Broad Street.
+
+"What are Rosebuds?" he inquired excitedly of a well-known stockbroker.
+
+"15_s._ 6_d._, buyers, 14_s._ 6_d._, sellers."
+
+And they were 7_s._ 6_d._, 7_s._, when the market opened that morning.
+What did it mean, and at what price had he, or rather, had Dolly, bought
+them?
+
+He knew from whom the telephonic message had come. He dashed into his
+office and rang up the man, a member of a West End firm of brokers.
+
+"Eight shillings," was the reply. "Congratulate you. Your profit already
+will pay for your honeymoon and a little more besides. Of course you'll
+sell. It's a market rig, and I happen to be in the know."
+
+Sell? Of course he would. A profit of over £1,800 would recoup him for
+his loss of that morning, and leave him a handsome balance in the
+bargain.
+
+"Dolly, dearest," he whispered that night, "the rosebuds are all right.
+The old church shall be smothered in them from end to end."
+
+And so it was, but like a prudent man he never explained that but for
+Dolly's unconscious assistance there might have been no roses and
+perhaps very little honeymoon. He was afraid Dolly might want to help
+him again!
+
+
+
+
+A TALE OF SIMLA.
+
+BY DR. HELEN BOURCHIER.
+
+
+There was a dinner-party that night at the lieutenant-governor's, and
+those of the governed who had followed him from his territory of Lahore
+up to Simla were bidden to the feast. In one of the pretty private
+sitting-rooms of the Bellevue Hotel three ladies were discussing
+chiffons in connection with that function.
+
+"Elma doesn't care for dinner-parties," Mrs. Macdonald said regretfully.
+
+Elma was her daughter, and this was her first season in Simla.
+
+"Oh, mother, I like the parties well enough!" said Elma. "What I hate is
+the horrid way you have of getting to parties."
+
+"What do you mean?" the third lady asked.
+
+"Elma means that she doesn't like the jampans," Mrs. Macdonald
+explained.
+
+"I am always frightened," said Elma in a low voice, and a little of the
+delicate colour she had brought out from England with her faded from her
+lovely face. "It seems so dreadful to go rushing down those steep,
+narrow lanes, on the edge of a precipice, in little rickety two-wheeled
+chairs that would turn over in a minute if one of the men were to
+stumble and fall; and then one would roll all down I don't know how many
+feet, down those steep precipices: some of them have no railings or
+protection of any kind, and in the evening the roads are quite dark
+under the overhanging trees. And people have fallen over them and been
+killed--every one knows that."
+
+"Elma cannot speak Hindustani," the mother further explained, "and the
+first time she went out she called '_Jeldi, jeldi!_' to the men, and of
+course they ran faster and faster. I was really rather alarmed myself
+when they came tearing past me round a corner."
+
+"I thought _jeldi_ meant 'slowly,'" said Elma.
+
+"Well, at any rate you have learnt one word of the language," said Mrs.
+Thompson, laughing.
+
+"I should not mind so much if mother was with me," said the girl; "but
+those horrid little jampans only hold one person--and mother's jampannis
+always run on so fast in front, and my men have to keep up with them. I
+wish I wasn't going this evening."
+
+"She has the sweetest frock you ever saw," said Mrs. Macdonald, turning
+to a pleasanter aspect of the subject. "I must say my sister-in-law took
+great pains with her outfit, and she certainly has excellent taste."
+
+"Didn't you ever feel nervous at first," Elma asked, "when you went out
+in a jampan on a dark night down a very steep road?"
+
+Mrs. Thompson laughed. "I can't say I remember it," she said. "I never
+fancied myself going over the _kudd_--the 'precipice' as you call it. I
+suppose I should have made my husband walk by the side of the jampan if
+I had been afraid."
+
+Then she got up to go, and Mrs. Macdonald went out with her and stood
+talking for a minute in the long corridor outside her rooms.
+
+"She is a very lovely creature," said Mrs. Thompson pleasantly. "I
+should think she is quite the prettiest girl in Simla this year."
+
+"I think she is," the mother agreed; "but I am afraid she will be very
+difficult to manage. She is only just out of the schoolroom, you know,
+and girls are so unpractical. She doesn't care to talk to any one but
+the subalterns and boys of her own age--and it is so important she
+should settle this year. You know we retire next year."
+
+"It is early days yet," said the other cheerfully.
+
+She had come out to India herself as the bride of a very rising young
+civilian, and she knew nothing of the campaign of the mothers at Simla.
+
+Elma indeed looked a lovely creature when she came out of her room an
+hour or two later to show herself to her mother before she stepped into
+the hated jampan. Her dress was a delicate creation of white lace and
+chiffon, with illusive shimmerings of silver in its folds that came and
+went with every one of her graceful movements. She was a tall and
+slender girl, with a beautiful long white throat, smooth and round, that
+took on entrancing curves of pride and gentleness, of humility and
+nobleness. She had splendid rippling hair of a deep bronze, that had
+been red a few years earlier; and dark blue dreamy eyes under broad dark
+eyebrows; a long sweep of cool fair cheek, and a rather wide mouth with
+a little tender, pathetic droop at the corners.
+
+"That frock certainly becomes you to perfection," said the mother. "I
+hope you will enjoy yourself; and do try not to let the boys monopolise
+you this evening. It is not like a dance, you know, and really, it is
+not good form to snub all the older men who try to talk to you."
+
+Elma lifted her long lashes with a glance of unfeigned surprise. "Oh,
+mother," she said humbly, "how could I snub any one? I am afraid of the
+clever men. I like to talk to the boys because they are as silly as I am
+myself, and they would not laugh at me for saying stupid things."
+
+"No one is going to laugh at you, goosey," said her mother.
+
+"I wish I was not going," said Elma.
+
+The ayah came out of the bedroom, and wrapped the tall young figure in a
+long white opera-cloak; and then they all went down together to the
+front verandah, where the jampans waited with the brown, bare-legged
+runners in their smart grey and blue liveries.
+
+Mrs. Macdonald started first. "Don't call out _jeldi_ too often, Elma,"
+she called back, laughing: "I don't want to be run over."
+
+And the ayah, hearing the word _jeldi_, explained to the jampannis that
+the Miss Sahib desired, above all things, fleetness, and that she had no
+mind to sit behind a team of slugs.
+
+Elma got in very gingerly, and the ayah settled her draperies with
+affectionate care. The dark little woman loved her, because she was
+gentle and fair and never scolded or hurried.
+
+The night was very dark. The road was by narrow backways, rough, heavily
+shadowed, and unprotected in many places. The jampannis started off at a
+run down the steep path as soon as they had passed through the gate, and
+Elma sat trembling and quaking behind them, gripping both sides of the
+little narrow carriage as she was whirled along. Once or twice it bumped
+heavily over large stones in the road; and when they had gone some
+little distance a dispute seemed to arise between the runners. They
+stopped the jampan and appealed to her, but she could not understand a
+word they said. She could only shake her head and point forward. Several
+minutes were lost in this discussion, and when at length it was decided
+one way or the other, the men started again at a greater speed than
+ever, to make up for the lost time.
+
+They bumped and flew along the dark road, and whirled round a corner too
+short. One of the men on the inner side of the road stumbled up the
+bank, and, losing his balance, let go the pole, and the jampan heeled
+over. Elma's startled scream unnerved the other runners, who swerved and
+stumbled, and in a moment the jampan was overturned down the side of the
+_kudd_. The white figure in it was shot out and went rolling down the
+rough hillside among the scrub and thorny bushes and broken stakes that
+covered it.
+
+The jampannis ran away; and after that one scream of Elma's there was
+silence on the dark road.
+
+It seemed to her that she was years rolling and buffeting down that
+steep hillside, which happily at that point was not precipitous. Then
+something struck her sharply on the side and stopped her farther
+progress. She did not faint, though the pain in her side gripped her
+breath for a moment. For all her delicate ethereal appearance, she was a
+strong girl, and, like many timid people, found courage when a disaster
+had really happened. She could not move. She was pinned down among the
+short, stiff branches of a thorny shrub; but she screamed again as loud
+as she could--not a scream of terror, but a call for help. Then she lay
+and listened. All about her there was no sound but the rustling murmur
+of the leaves and the tiny, mysterious noises of the little creatures of
+the night whose realm she had invaded. Now and again she tried to move
+and disentangle herself from the strong branches that held her; but they
+pressed her down, the thorns pinned her clothes, and her bruised side
+ached with every movement--and she was forced to lie still again and
+listen for some sound of the jampannis, who must surely be looking for
+her.
+
+Presently, on the road above, there sounded, very faint and far off, the
+tramp of shod feet. She called again, and the tramp quickened to a run,
+and a man's voice shouted in the distance: "Hullo! Hullo!"
+
+As the steps came nearer above her, she cried again: "Help! I am
+here--down the _kudd_."
+
+In the leafy stillness her shrill young voice rang far and clear.
+
+"Where are you?" came the answering voice.
+
+"Down the _kudd_."
+
+The steps stopped on the road above.
+
+"Are you there?" the voice called. "I see something white glimmering."
+
+"I am here," she answered; then, as the bushes crackled above her, she
+called a warning: "It is very steep. Be careful."
+
+Very slowly and cautiously the steps came down the steep side of the
+_kudd_ to an accompaniment of rolling stones and crashing and tearing
+branches, and now and then a muttered exclamation. Then she was aware of
+a white face glimmering out of the darkness.
+
+"Are you there?" said the voice again, quite close to her.
+
+"Yes, I am here, but I cannot move; the branches hold me down."
+
+"Wait a moment. I will get a light."
+
+She was lying on her back, and, turning her head a little, she could see
+a match struck and the face it illuminated--a strong, dark, clean-shaven
+face; a close-cropped, dark, uncovered head. The match was held over her
+for a moment, then it went out.
+
+"I see where you are," said the rescuer, "we must try to get you out.
+Are you hurt?"
+
+"I have hurt my side, I think," she said.
+
+Without more words he knelt down beside her and began to tear away and
+loosen the short, sturdy branches; then he took her under the shoulders,
+and drew her slowly along the ground. There was a great rending and
+tearing in every direction of her delicate garments; but at last she was
+free of the clinging thorns and branches.
+
+"I am afraid the thorns have scratched you a good deal," he said in a
+very matter-of-fact voice. "Will you try if you can stand up now? Lean
+on me."
+
+Elma scrambled to her feet, and stood leaning against him--a glimmering,
+ghostly figure, whose tattered garments were happily hidden by the
+darkness.
+
+"Do you think you can manage to climb back to the road now?" he asked;
+"there may be snakes about here, you know."
+
+"I will try," said Elma.
+
+"I will go first," he said. "You had better hold on to my coat, I think.
+That will leave my hands free to pull us up."
+
+Very slowly and laboriously they clambered back again to the road above;
+there was no sign of the jampannis, and the jampan itself had gone over
+the _kudd_ and was no more to be seen.
+
+They sat down exhausted on the rising bank on the other side of the
+road.
+
+"How did you get here?" he asked.
+
+"My jampan went over the side, down the precipice," said Elma, "and I am
+afraid those poor jampannis must have been killed."
+
+The stranger laughed long and loud, and Elma, in the reaction of her
+relief, laughed too.
+
+"I have not the slightest idea what you are laughing at," she said.
+
+"You have not been long in this country?" he asked.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You do not know the jampanni. As soon as the jampan tilted they let go,
+and directly they saw you had gone over they ran away. Killed! Well,
+that is likely! I daresay they will come back here presently to pick up
+the pieces, when they have got over their panic: they are not really
+bad-hearted, you know. We will wait a little while and see."
+
+There was silence between them for a few peaceful moments; then Elma
+said gently, "I thank you with all my heart."
+
+"Oh, not at all!" said the stranger politely.
+
+They both laughed again, young, heart-whole, clear laughter, that echoed
+strangely on those world-old hills.
+
+"Words are very inadequate," said Elma presently.
+
+"Oh, one understands all right without words," said he; "but where is
+the rest of your party, I wonder? I suppose you were not alone?"
+
+"Mother has gone to a dinner-party," she answered. "Oh dear, what ought
+I to do? She will be so frightened! She is waiting for me. I must get
+some one to go and tell her I am all right. How could I sit here and
+forget how frightened she will be when I don't come!"
+
+"We had better wait a little longer, I think," he said. "You cannot walk
+just yet, can you?"
+
+"My shoes are all cut to pieces," she owned ruefully. "I suppose we must
+wait. It was very lucky for me you were passing just then."
+
+"Yes, I had just cut the shop for an hour or two, and I came round here
+to have a quiet smoke. Lost my way, as a matter of fact."
+
+"They must keep open very late at your shop," she remarked.
+
+He hesitated a moment before he answered, "Very late."
+
+"And I suppose you haven't dined?" she went on. "You must come back with
+me, and dine at the hotel. I cannot go on to the party now, at any rate;
+my clothes are in rags, and, besides, it must be quite late."
+
+"Do you know your way back to the hotel?" he asked, as the time went on
+and the jampannis remained, to all appearance, as dead as ever.
+
+"No, I have never walked down this way, and it is far too dark to
+attempt it now," said Elma very decidedly.
+
+The time passed pleasantly enough while they waited, and more than once
+their light-hearted laughter rang out into the night.
+
+At last they heard a pattering of bare feet coming down the road. The
+stranger hailed in Hindustani, and the natives stopped and began an
+excited jabbering all together, which the stranger answered in their own
+language.
+
+"These are the jampannis who were killed," he announced to Elma. "If you
+wish it, I will send one of them with a message to your mother, and the
+others can fetch a couple of jampans to take us to the hotel."
+
+"You seem to know Hindustani very well," she remarked, when the men had
+been sent on their various errands.
+
+"Yes, I have been some little time in India," he answered, "though I
+have only been a few days at Simla. Will you allow me to introduce
+myself? My name is Angus McIvor."
+
+"And I am Elma Macdonald. I hope we shall not meet any one at the hotel
+before I can get to my room. Oh! and will you let me go on in front, and
+get out before you come?--I am so dreadfully tattered and torn."
+
+"I promise not to look at you at all until you give me leave," he
+answered gravely. "And what about me? I have lost my hat, and as yet I
+have no idea of the extent of the damage my garments have sustained."
+
+"Then I won't look at you either," said Elma, and they laughed together
+again in the gayest _camaraderie_.
+
+Dinner was over at the Bellevue when they got back there; but they
+neither of them felt the want of other company. They had a very merry
+little dinner-party all to themselves, and Angus was able to look at the
+damsel errant he had rescued. Her beauty came upon him with a shock of
+surprise. He had seen many beautiful women in his time, but never
+anything so enchanting as the droop of her mouth, or the lovely curves
+of her throat, or the transparent candour of her sweet blue eyes.
+
+What Elma saw was a tall, well-knit young fellow, with a dark, plain
+face, a hawk nose, and grey eyes. He was clean-shaven; no moustache or
+beard concealed the masterful squareness of his jaw or the rather
+satirical curve of his thin lips.
+
+Directly dinner was over he left her, though she begged him to stay till
+her mother came home.
+
+"Mother would like to thank you for what you did for me," she said.
+
+"I will come and be thanked to-morrow morning, then," he said, laughing.
+"I shall want to know how you are after your accident, you know--that
+is, if I can get away from the shop."
+
+Mrs. Macdonald came home rather early, and not in the best of tempers.
+She had been a good deal alarmed and upset when Elma failed to arrive at
+Government House; and even after the jampanni had brought the message
+that her daughter was safe at the hotel she was extremely annoyed at
+Elma's absence from the party. There were several bachelor guests whom
+she would have been glad to introduce to her; and when she thought of
+the radiant figure in the shimmering white robe that she had last seen
+on the hotel verandah, she was ready to cry with vexation and
+disappointment.
+
+She listened with ill-concealed impatience to Elma's account of her
+accident. "And pray who is this Mr. McIvor who roams about rescuing
+distressed damsels?" she asked. "I never heard his name before."
+
+"He said he came out of a shop," said Elma simply.
+
+"A shop!" cried Mrs. Macdonald. "Really, Elma, you are no better than an
+idiot! The idea of asking a man who comes out of a shop to dine with you
+here! What will people say? You must be mad."
+
+"But he was very kind to me, mother," said Elma, "and he missed his own
+dinner by helping me. And, you know, I might have lain in that horrible
+place all night if he had not helped me out. I don't see that any one
+here can complain about his shop; they were not asked to meet him: we
+dined quite by ourselves, he and I."
+
+Mrs. Macdonald stamped her foot. "You are hopeless, Elma--quite
+hopeless!" she cried. "What was your aunt dreaming of to bring you up to
+have no more sense than a child of three years old?"
+
+"He is very gentlemanly," said Elma, still gently expostulating. "You
+will see for yourself: he is coming to call on you to-morrow, and to ask
+how I am."
+
+"Elma, I forbid you to see him again!" said the mother, now tragically
+impressive. "If he calls to-morrow, I shall see him alone. You are not
+to come into the room."
+
+"I am afraid he will think it very unkind and rude," said Elma
+regretfully; "and I can never forget how kind he was and how glad I was
+to see him when he came down the _kudd_ after me."
+
+But she made no further resistance to her mother's orders, having
+privately decided in her own mind to find out what shop in Simla had the
+advantage of his services, and to see him there herself and thank him
+again.
+
+Angus McIvor duly called next morning, and was received by Mrs.
+Macdonald alone; but what passed between them at that interview remains
+a secret between him and that lady.
+
+After lunch Elma strolled out for her usual solitary walk while her
+mother was enjoying her siesta. She wandered idly along under the trees
+down the road along which the jampannis had whirled her the evening
+before, and so to the broken edge of the _kudd_ where she had rolled
+over.
+
+There, sitting on the bank, smoking serenely, was Angus McIvor. He threw
+away his cigar, and got up as soon as she saw him.
+
+Her lovely face flushed, her blue eyes darkened with pleasure, as she
+held out her hand in greeting.
+
+"I thought you would be sure to come here," he said, smiling down upon
+her.
+
+"Oh, you expected me, then?" she said, and her eyes fell before his.
+
+"Why weren't you there this morning when I came to be thanked?" he
+asked.
+
+She turned her head away uneasily. "Mother did not wish me to come in,"
+she said.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Well, never mind that now," he said. "I will ask you again some other
+time. Now let us go up towards the top of Jacko; there are some pretty
+views I should like to show you."
+
+And, nothing loth, Elma went with him.
+
+"Why did your mother not wish you to see me this morning?"
+
+"I cannot tell," said Elma lamely.
+
+"Was it because of the shop?" he persisted. "Tell me. I promise you I
+will not mind. Was it?"
+
+The fair head drooped a little, and the answer came in a whisper he
+could hardly hear: "Yes."
+
+"And do you mind about the shop?"
+
+She raised indignant blue eyes to his. "Of course not!" she said. "You
+ought to know that without asking me."
+
+"Then will you meet me again to-morrow outside here?" he asked.
+
+"No, I cannot do that."
+
+"Then you are ashamed of the shop?"
+
+"Indeed, I am not!"
+
+"But I cannot meet you any other way," he urged. "I cannot come to see
+you, and you have not been to my shop yet since I came to Simla. So
+where can I see you? Will you meet me again?"
+
+"Indeed, I cannot!"
+
+"Then it is the shop?"
+
+The blue eyes were full of distress, the tender mouth grew more
+pathetic. "I will come just once," she said, "to show you I care nothing
+about the shop. But you must not ask me again to do what I know my
+mother would not like. I cannot deceive her."
+
+And on the next day they met again and walked together.
+
+He did not ask her to meet him again, but on the third day he joined her
+at the gate.
+
+"This is quite accidental, you know," he said, laughing down into her
+happy eyes.
+
+And as they walked in the tender green shadows upon wooded Jacko, his
+eyes said, "I love you," and hers faltered and looked down.
+
+And on the homeward way he took her hand. "I will not ask you to meet me
+again in secret, my sweetest," he said, "because I love you. I am
+ashamed that for one moment I doubted your innocent, unworldly heart. I
+will woo and win you openly as you should be wooed."
+
+And without waiting for an answer, he kissed her hand and left her.
+
+That evening there was a great reception at Government House, and the
+Viceroy's new aide-de-camp, Lord Angus McIvor Stuart, helped to receive
+the guests.
+
+"This is my 'shop,' Mrs. Macdonald," he said. "It was a silly and slangy
+way to speak of it; but, upon my honour, I never meant to deceive any
+one when I said it first."
+
+Then was Elma Macdonald openly wooed and won by the man who loved her.
+
+
+
+
+THE TREVERN TREASURE.
+
+BY LUCY HARDY.
+
+
+A garden in the west of England some two and a half centuries ago; an
+old-world garden, with prim yew hedges and a sundial, and, in one shady
+and sequestered nook, two persons standing; one, a man some forty years
+of age, tall and handsome, the other a lady of grace and beauty some
+fifteen years his junior. Both were cloaked and muffled and spoke in low
+and anxious tones.
+
+"An anxious task well done, sweetheart," the husband said at length, in
+tones of satisfaction; "and now, my darling, remember that this secret
+lies betwixt thou and I. Be heedful in keeping it--for thine own sake
+and that of our little babe. Should evil times arise, this hidden
+treasure may yet prove provision for our boy and for thee." So saying,
+he drew her arm within his own and led her into the house.
+
+Sir Ralph Trevern had strongly espoused the Royal cause from the
+commencement of the Civil troubles, and was now paying a hurried visit
+to his home, to conceal his chief valuables, and to arrange for the
+departure of his wife Sybil and his baby heir to Exeter; a town still
+loyal to the king, and where he hoped his wife and babe would be safer
+than in their remote Devonshire Manor House amid neighbours of
+Parliamentary sympathies.
+
+At Exeter Sybil Trevern remained until the city was forced to capitulate
+in the spring of 1646; and then, widowed and landless (for Sir Ralph had
+fallen at Marston Moor and his estate had been confiscated), she was
+thankful to accept the invitation of some Royalist friends, who had
+accompanied the queen, Henrietta Maria, in her secret flight to France
+some while before, and journeyed, with her babe, to join them in Paris.
+
+There was no opportunity for Sybil Trevern to return to her old home,
+now in the possession of enemies; and, remembering her husband's strict
+charge of secrecy, she was reluctant to mention the hidden treasure,
+even to her friends.
+
+"I will reveal it to our boy when he is of an age to understand it,"
+thought Lady Trevern; but she never lived to see her son grow into
+manhood, or even into youth.
+
+The trials and sorrows which had befallen her had told upon the gentle
+woman; and while the little Ralph was still a child, his mother passed
+into the Silent Land.
+
+The concealment of valuables in secret places frequently results in
+misadventure. Sybil had often described to her little son the concealed
+valuables, which, if the exiled Royalists were ever able to re-visit
+England, she hoped to recover for herself and for him; and, in later
+years, Sir Ralph could still recall the enigmatical words in which his
+mother had (possibly with the idea that the rhyme might, as it did,
+cling to his childish memory) spoken to him of the hidden treasure.
+
+    "Near the water, by the fern,
+    The Trevern secret you shall learn,"
+
+had often been whispered into his childish ears, and this rhyme was now
+the only clue that he possessed to the hiding-place of all that remained
+of his family's fortunes. The articles heedfully concealed by the elder
+Sir Ralph were of no small value. Besides papers and documents of some
+moment to the family, and some heirlooms (antique silver so prized as to
+have been exempted, even by the devoted Royalists, from contribution to
+the king's "war treasure chest," for which the University of Oxford, and
+many a loyal family, had melted down their plate), Sir Ralph had hidden
+a most valuable collection of jewels, notably a necklace of rubies and
+diamonds, which had been a treasured possession of the Treverns since
+the days of Elizabeth, when one of the family had turned "gentleman
+adventurer," become a companion of Drake and Hawkins, and won it as a
+prize from a Spanish galloon.
+
+In his childhood, the present Sir Ralph had heard (from old servants as
+well as from his mother) descriptions of these treasured jewels; but the
+secret of their hiding-place now rested with the dead.
+
+Sir Ralph grew to manhood, returned to England at the Restoration, and
+finally, after much suing and delay, succeeded in obtaining repossession
+of his small paternal estate. Then, for many months, did he devote
+himself to a careful, but utterly unavailing, search about his property,
+vainly seeking along the lake-side and all round the big pond for the
+concealed valuables--but never finding aught but disappointment. The
+neighbours said that the silent, morose man, who spent his days walking
+about the estate with bent head and anxious, searching eyes, had become
+a trifle crazed; and indeed his fruitless search after his hidden wealth
+had grown into a monomania.
+
+As the years rolled by, Sir Ralph became a soured and misanthropic man;
+for his estate had returned to him in a ruinous and burthened condition,
+and the acquisition of his hidden treasure was really necessary to clear
+off incumbrances and to repair the family fortunes.
+
+Lady Trevern often assured her husband that it was more than probable
+that the late Cromwellian proprietor had discovered the jewels during
+his occupancy, and that, like a prudent man, he kept his own counsel in
+the matter. But Sir Ralph still clung to the belief that somewhere in
+his grounds, "near the water and by the fern," the wealth he now so
+sorely needed lay concealed. That in this faith Sir Ralph lived and died
+was proved by his will, in which he bequeathed to the younger of his two
+sons, "and to his heirs," the jewels and other specified valuables which
+the testator firmly believed were still concealed _somewhere_ about the
+Trevern property. The widowed Lady Trevern, however, was a capable and
+practically-minded woman, little inclined to set much value upon this
+visionary idea of "treasure trove." She was most reluctant to see her
+sons waste their lives in a hopeless search after the missing property,
+and succeeded in impressing both her children with her own views
+regarding the utter hopelessness of their father's quest. And, as the
+years passed away, the story of the "Trevern Treasure" became merely a
+kind of "family legend." The ferns said nothing, and the water kept its
+secret.
+
+Fortune was not more kindly to the Treverns in the eighteenth century
+than she had been in the seventeenth. Roger Trevern, the elder son and
+inheritor of the estate, found it a hard struggle to maintain himself
+and his large family upon the impoverished property, while the younger
+son Richard, the designated heir of the missing treasure, became
+implicated in the Jacobite rising of 1715, was forced to fly to Holland
+after Mar's defeat, and died in exile, a few years after the disaster of
+Sherrifmuir, bequeathing a destitute orphan girl to his brother's
+charge.
+
+Roger Trevern, a most kindly man, welcomed this addition to his already
+large family without a murmur; and little Mary Trevern grew up with her
+cousins, beloved and kindly treated by all in the household. It was only
+as the child grew into womanhood that a change came over Madam Trevern's
+feelings towards her young niece; for Madam Trevern was a shrewd and
+sensible woman, a devoted, but also an ambitious, mother. Much as she
+liked sweet Mary Trevern, she had no desire to see her eldest son, the
+youthful heir of the sadly encumbered estate, wedded to a portionless
+bride, however comely and amiable. And Dick Trevern had lately been
+exhibiting a marked preference for his pretty cousin, a fact which
+greatly disturbed his mother's peace of mind.
+
+Mary herself knew this, and did not resent her aunt's feelings in the
+matter. The girl, as one of the elders among the children, had long been
+familiar with the story of the family straits and struggles, and could
+only acquiesce (though with a stifled sigh) in Madam Trevern's oft
+repeated axiom that "whenever Dick wedded, his bride must bring with her
+sufficient dowry to free the estate" from some of the mortgages which
+were crushing and crippling it. Mary knew that a marriage between
+herself and Dick could only result in bringing troubles upon both--and
+yet--and yet--love and prudence do not often go hand-in-hand--and
+although no word of actual wooing had ever passed between the young
+folk, both had, unfortunately, learned to love each other but too well.
+Wistfully did she think of that hidden treasure, now but a forlorn hope,
+yet all the hope she had.
+
+"And had the poor child but a dowry there is none to whom I would sooner
+see our Dick wedded," Madam Trevern once remarked to her husband; "for
+Molly is a good girl, and like a daughter to us already. But, Roger,
+'tis but sheer midsummer madness to dream of such a marriage now; truly
+'twould be but 'hunger marrying thirst.' Dick must seek for a bride who
+at least brings some small fortune with her; and is there not Mistress
+Cynthia at the Hall, young and comely, and well dowered, casting eyes of
+favour upon him already?"
+
+Roger Trevern sighed a little; he honestly liked Mary, and would have
+welcomed her heartily as a daughter-in-law, though prudent
+considerations told him that his wife spoke truly regarding the
+hopelessness of such a marriage for his son.
+
+And then Madam Trevern went on to discuss with her husband the scheme
+she had now much at heart, viz., the separation of the young folks by
+the transference of Mary to the family of a distant kinsman in London.
+
+"You do but lose your youth buried here with us, child," said Madam
+Trevern to Mary, with kindly hypocrisy one day, "while with our cousin
+Martin, who would be glad enough to take a bright young maid like thee
+to be companion to his ailing wife, thou mayst see the world, and
+perchance make a great marriage, which will cause thee to look down upon
+us poor Devon rustics." But Mary wept silently, though she was ready,
+even willing, to go to London as desired.
+
+It was the girl's last day in the old home; her modest outfit had been
+prepared and packed, and the old waggoner was to call on the morrow to
+convey Mary and her uncle (who was to be her escort to the wonderful,
+far-off "London town") to Exeter; whence, by slow and tedious stages,
+the travellers would reach the metropolis at last.
+
+Dick, who had been astutely sent away from home for a few weeks, knew
+nothing of his cousin's intended departure--Madam Trevern had purposely
+schemed thus to escape any "farewells" between the young people,
+arranging Mary's London visit very suddenly; and "perhaps 'twas the
+wisest," the girl sighed to herself as she wandered for the last time
+round the old, familiar garden, and seated herself, _alone!_ on the
+mossy well curb, where she and Dick had so often sat and talked together
+on sweet summer evenings in the past.
+
+Mary's heart was indeed sad within her, and visions of what "might have
+been" would keep welling up before her. Oh! if only some good fairy had
+been keeping back the secret of the hidden treasure to reveal it now,
+how happy it would be.
+
+Her solitary musings were, however, put to flight by the appearance of
+the younger children, with whom she was a great favourite, and who had
+gained an hour's respite from their usual "bed-time" upon this, their
+cousin's last night at home. Tom, and Will, and Sally, and Ben, had
+indeed received the tidings of their beloved "Molly's" impending
+departure with great dismay; and their vociferous lamentations were
+hardly to be checked by their mother's assurances that one day "Cousin
+Molly" might come back to see them, when she was "a great lady, riding
+in her coach and six," and would bring them picture-books and gilt
+gingerbread.
+
+It was with a strange pang at her heart that Mary now submitted to the
+loving, if rather boisterous, caresses of the urchins who climbed her
+lap and clung around her neck.
+
+But Mary had not chosen her quiet seat with a view to childhood's romps
+or she had chosen a safer one. As it was the shout of merriment was
+quickly followed by a sudden cry, a splash, and a simultaneous
+exclamation of dismay from Mary and the children. Will, the youngest,
+most troublesome, and therefore best beloved of the family, the
+four-years-old "baby," had slipped on the curb of the well,
+overbalanced himself, and fallen in; dropping a toy into the water as he
+did so. In a moment Mary was on her feet. Seizing the bucket, she called
+the elder boys to work the windlass, and, with firm, but quiet
+instructions and a face as white as death, consigned herself to the
+unknown deep.
+
+Near the bottom of the well, which was not very deep, she came upon her
+little cousin suspended by his clothes to a hook fastened in the well
+side. She was not long in disengaging the little fellow's clothes from
+the friendly hook, and was about to signal to be drawn up, when beneath
+the hook, and explanatory of it--"near the water, by the fern"--what was
+it? A large hole in the side of the well, and in it--the Trevern
+treasure, found at last!
+
+Though the lapse of many years had rotted some of the leather covering
+of the jewel casket, the gems themselves, when lifted out, flashed forth
+in undimmed beauty; the silver cups and flagons, if discoloured, were
+still intact, and the papers in the metal case were well preserved.
+
+These last proved of great importance to Roger Trevern, enabling him to
+substantiate his claim to some disputed property, which was quite
+sufficient to relieve his estate of all its embarrassments.
+
+And as for Mary, she restored her youngest cousin to his mother's arms,
+and took the eldest to her own.
+
+
+
+
+A MEMORABLE DAY.
+
+BY SARAH DOUDNEY.
+
+
+Miss Tillotson's grey parrot had called "Clarissa" a dozen times at
+least, and was listening with his cunning head on one side for footsteps
+on the stairs. Breakfast was ready; an urn, shaped something like a
+sepulchral monument, was steaming on the table, and near it stood an old
+china jar filled with monthly roses. It was a warm, bright morning--that
+twenty-ninth of August in the year 1782. The windows at each end of the
+room were wide open, but scarcely a breath of air wandered in, or
+stirred the lilac bushes in the garden. For the Tillotsons' house could
+boast of a respectable strip of ground, although it stood in a street in
+Portsea.
+
+At a quarter past eight Clarissa Tillotson came downstairs, and entered
+the room with a quick, firm step, taking no notice of the parrot's
+salutation. She was a tall, fair girl of nineteen; her hair, worn
+according to the fashion of that period, in short curls, was almost
+flaxen; her eyes were clear blue, her features regular, and, but for a
+certain hardness and sternness about the mouth, she might have been
+pronounced beautiful. She was dressed in a short-waisted gown of white
+muslin, with a blue girdle; her bodice was cut square, leaving her neck
+uncovered; her tight sleeves reached to the wrists. The gown was so
+scanty, and the skirt clung so closely to her figure, that it made her
+appear even taller than she really was. And at this day, on the wall of
+a modern London mansion, Clarissa's grandchildren and
+great-grandchildren behold her in a tarnished gilt frame, habited in
+the very costume which she wore on that memorable morning.
+
+"Good-morning, Anthony," she said stiffly, as a young man, two years
+older than herself, made his appearance.
+
+"Good-morning, sister," he answered in a cheery tone, drawing a step
+nearer as if he meant to give her a kiss. But Clarissa drew up her
+stately figure to its full height, and turned quickly to the table.
+
+Her brother coloured with annoyance. There had been a quarrel between
+them on the preceding day, and Anthony was willing to make the first
+advance towards reconciliation. But he saw that Clarissa intended to
+keep him at a distance, and he knew the obstinacy of her nature too well
+to renew his attempt. He took his seat with a sigh, thinking how bright
+the home-life would be if the cloud of her unyielding temper did not too
+frequently darken the domestic sunshine.
+
+"I find that father is not well enough to come down yet," he said at
+last, breaking an awkward silence. "He means to leave his room this
+afternoon."
+
+"Dr. Vale charged him to be very cautious," rejoined Clarissa.
+
+These young people were motherless; the daughter reigned as mistress of
+her father's house, acknowledging no control save his, and that was of
+the mildest kind. Captain Tillotson was the most indulgent of parents;
+his wife had died while Clarissa was still too young to realize her
+loss, and the child had been entirely left to the care of an old
+servant, who allowed her to have her own way in all things. At school
+she had been forced to submit to discipline; but her strong will was
+never conquered, and she generally contrived to gain an ascendency over
+her companions. Having retired from long and honourable service in the
+Royal Navy, the captain settled himself at home, to pass his old age in
+peace; and Clarissa proved herself an affectionate daughter. But Anthony
+was scarcely so easy to manage as her father; to him, his sister's word
+was not always law, and she sometimes found herself good-humouredly
+contradicted.
+
+"If I give in," thought she, going over the before-mentioned quarrel,
+"he will think that he has got the mastery. No; I will treat him with
+marked coldness until he makes an apology."
+
+Thoroughly chilled by her frigid tone and manner, Anthony made few
+efforts to sustain the conversation. Breakfast was finished in silence,
+and he rose rather hastily from his seat at the table.
+
+"I am going on board the _Royal George_ this morning," he said, moving
+towards the door. "If my father asks for me, Clarissa, please tell him
+that I wanted to say a few words to Lieutenant Holloway. He will have to
+sail again shortly."
+
+"Very well," replied Clarissa, indifferently.
+
+The hall-door closed behind him, and she rung the bell to have the
+breakfast-table cleared. Then the sunshine tempted her to saunter into
+the garden, and gather a bunch of sweet lavender, but from some
+unexplained cause her mind was ill at ease. She could take no pleasure
+in her flowers; no interest in the vine which had been her especial
+care; and she returned to the house, determined to spend the morning at
+her worsted-work. Seating herself near the open window, she drew her
+frame towards her, and arranged her crewels. The shining needle darted
+in and out, and she was soon deeply absorbed in her occupation.
+
+Every piece of work has a history of its own; and this quaint
+representation of the woman of Samaria was fated to be of great interest
+to succeeding generations. But the busy worker little guessed what
+memories would hereafter cling to that morning's labour, nor dreamed
+that some day those very stitches would remind her of the darkest hours
+in her life.
+
+She worked on until the old clock in the hall struck ten; and at the
+same moment a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, strewing the
+table with petals from the over-blown roses in the jar, and blowing
+Clarissa's curls about her head. It was a welcome breeze, coming as it
+did after the sultry stillness, and she stood up between the two windows
+to enjoy the draught. Then, after pacing the long room to and fro for
+awhile, she sat down to her frame again, and began to think about her
+brother Anthony.
+
+Had she been quite right after all? Would it not have been well to have
+received that kiss of peace? Was it such a very meritorious thing to
+hold out until her adversary had humbled himself before her? Even if the
+apology were made, would it not be rather a poor victory--one of those
+conquests which degrade instead of exalting the conqueror? Anthony was a
+noble fellow, a brother of whom most girls would be proud. His only
+fault was that determination to maintain his own opinion; but was that
+indeed a fault? She worked faster, and almost decided that it was not.
+
+So busy was her brain that time flew by unheeded, and she started to
+hear the clock striking one. Scarcely had the stroke died away, when a
+shrill cry came ringing through the quiet street, driving the colour out
+of her face in an instant. Springing up from her chair, she hurried to
+the window that overlooked the pavement, and saw that people had come to
+their doors with dismayed faces, for a woman was standing on the
+causeway, raising that terrible wail.
+
+"It's all true--it's all true!" she shrieked. "The _Royal George_ has
+gone down at Spithead."
+
+The two maid-servants rushed upstairs in affright, for the cry had
+reached their ears. The captain heard it in his room overhead, and came
+down in his dressing-gown and slippers; but his daughter scarcely stayed
+to exchange a word with him. Mechanically seizing the garden-hat and
+shawl that hung in the hall, she put them on, and ran out into the
+street, setting off at full speed for the dockyard gates. Could it be
+true? Alas! the news was confirmed before she reached her destination,
+and the first wail was but the herald of many others. Even in that hour
+of universal distress and consternation people took note of the tall,
+fair young lady whose face and lips were as white as the dress she wore.
+
+The _Royal George_ had lately arrived at Spithead after a cruise, and on
+that fatal morning she was undergoing the operation known as a
+"parliament heel." The sea was smooth and the weather still, and the
+business was begun early in the morning, a number of men from Portsmouth
+dockyard going on board to assist the ship's carpenters. It was found
+necessary, it is said, to strip off more of the sheathing than had been
+intended; and the men, eager to reach the defect in the ship's bottom,
+were induced to heel her too much. Then indeed "the land-breeze shook
+her shrouds," throwing her wholly on one side; the cannon rolled over to
+the side depressed; the water rushed in; and the gallant ship met her
+doom. Such was the story, told in hurried and broken words, that
+Clarissa heard from the pale lips of an old seaman; but he could give no
+other tidings. The boats of the fleet had put off to the rescue; that
+was all he could tell.
+
+There was no hope in Clarissa's heart as she turned her steps homewards.
+Anthony had gone down--gone down with Admiral Kempenfeldt and his eight
+hundred. The same breeze that had scattered the rose-petals and played
+with her curls had a deadlier mission to perform. She remembered how she
+had stood rejoicing in that sudden gust of cool wind, and the thought
+turned her faint and sick as she reached her father's house.
+
+"Clarissa," cried the captain, meeting her at the door, "what is all
+this? Surely it can't be true. Where's Anthony?"
+
+Ay, where was Anthony? She threw her arms round the old man's neck, and
+hid her eyes upon his shoulder that she might not see his face.
+
+"Father--dear father! He said he was going to see Lieutenant Holloway on
+board----"
+
+She could not finish her sentence, and there was no need of more words.
+Captain Tillotson was a brave man; he had faced death many a time
+without flinching, but this was a blow which he was wholly unprepared to
+meet. Putting his daughter gently aside, he sat down on a sofa, and
+looked straight before him with that terrible blank look that tells its
+own tale of a stroke that has crushed out all strength. The servants,
+glancing from the father to the daughter, saw that on both faces this
+sudden sorrow had done the work of years. What was time? Was it months
+or minutes ago that the first cry had sounded through the street?
+
+"If I had only kissed him!" Clarissa did not know that she was saying
+the words aloud. To her, indeed, this cup was doubly bitter, for it was
+mingled with the gall of remorse. But for that hard nature of hers, she
+might have had the sweetness of a kind parting to think upon. Had he
+forgiven her, in his loving heart, while the great ship was going down,
+and the water was taking away his life? Ah, she might never know that,
+until the cruel sea gave up its dead.
+
+There was a noise of wheels in the street; but what were noises to her?
+The sound drew nearer; the wheels stopped at the door, but it could be
+only some friend, who had come in haste to tell them the bad news which
+they knew already.
+
+Battered, and bruised, and dripping with water, a man descended from the
+hackney coach, and Clarissa started up.
+
+The face was so pale, the whole aspect so strange, that she could not
+receive the great truth all at once. It was not until he entered the
+room, and knelt down, wet and trembling as he was, at his father's feet,
+that she realized her brother's safety.
+
+Anthony had been on the upper deck when the ship sank, and was among
+that small number who escaped death. All those who were between decks
+shared the fate of the great Admiral who went down with his sword in its
+sheath, and ended his threescore years and ten of hard service, in sight
+of shore. The many were taken, the few left; but although hundreds of
+homes were made desolate that day, there were some from whence the
+strain of thanksgiving ascended, tempered by the national woe.
+
+People were wont to say afterwards that Clarissa never again looked so
+young and fair as she did before the blow fell. But if that day's agony
+robbed her of her bloom, it left with her the "meek and quiet spirit"
+which never comes to some of us until it is gained through a great
+sorrow.
+
+
+
+
+DORA.
+
+_AN OSTLER'S STORY._
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+Tell you a story, Master 'Arry? Ah! there's only one story as ought to
+be told in this yer stable, and that's the old un as allus hupsets me to
+tell. But I don't mind a-goin' over the old ground once ag'in, Master
+'Arry, as you know werry well, if these yer gents 'as a mind to listen
+to a hold man's yarn. It beats all the printed stories as ever I see,
+but then, as I ain't no scholar, and can't see werry well neither,
+p'raps that ain't no much wonder arter all. Reading ain't much in my
+line, yer see, sir, and, as the old master used to say, "Bring up yer
+boys to the prerfishuns yer means 'em to foller." 'Osses is my
+prerfishun, sir, and 'osses I was brought up to.
+
+Excuse me just a minute, sir, if yer don't mind a-settin' on this yer
+stool. I don't like to see nobody a-leanin' ag'in that there post. That
+were "Snowflake's" stall, sir, in the old time, and "Snowflake" were
+little Dora's pony.
+
+My father were os'ler here, sir, afore I were born, and I growed up to
+the stable, Master 'Arry, just as your ole father growed up to the 'All.
+It were in ole Sir Markham's time, this were--ole Sir Markham, whose
+picture hangs above the mantel in the dinin'-'all, as fine a hold
+English gen'leman as ever crossed a 'unter and follered the 'ounds. The
+first time as ever I see Sir Markham were when I were about four year
+old. O' course, we lived on the estate, but I don't know as I'd ever
+been up to the 'All till that partickler mornin', when I came wi' a
+message for my father, and meets ole Sir Markham in the park. Now, yer
+know, Sir Markham were a queer ole chap when he liked. He didn't take no
+nonsens from nobody, he didn't. I've seen him thrash the keeper afore
+now with his own ridin' whip, and he wouldn't 'a' stood partickler about
+a boy or two, and as there'd been a deal of fruit stole out o' the
+orchard about that time, he thought he'd jist up and frighten me a bit.
+So he hollers out--"Hi! there, you boy, what right 'a' you got in my
+park?" but I see a sort o' twinkle in his eye, so I knowed he weren't
+real cross, and so I up and says, "Ain't boys got a right to go where
+their fathers is?" He didn't say nothing more to me then, but when he
+sees my father he says, "That's a smart boy o' yours, Jim," he says,
+"and when he's a bit older yer must 'ave 'im up 'ere to 'elp."
+
+Well, sir, I got a bit older in time, and I come up 'ere to 'elp, and,
+'ceptin' for a very little while, I've been 'ere ever since.
+
+I were a boy of fourteen when the things 'appened as make up the rest o'
+my story. Sir Markham he were a matter o' sixty year old, I should say,
+and Miss Dora, as I see it said in a book, once, "sweet, wery sweet,
+wery, wery sweet seventeen."
+
+I allus 'ad a hadmiration for Miss Dora. "Darling Dora" they called 'er
+at the 'All, and so did I, when nobody wasn't listenin'. Nobody couldn't
+know 'er without admirin' 'er, but I 'ad a special sort of hadmiration
+for 'er as 'ad made me do any mortal thing she asked me, whatever it
+might 'ave costed.
+
+Yer see, when I were quite a little chap, and she were no much bigger,
+she ses to me one day, when I were a bit scolded, she ses, "Never mind,
+Jim," she ses, "cheer up; you'll be a man o' some sort some day;" and I
+tell you, though I allus 'ad a hidea that way myself, when she said it I
+grow'd a hinch straight off. If yer believes in yourself, Master 'Arry,
+yer can do a lot, but if somebody else believes in yer there ain't
+nothink in the whole world what yer can't do.
+
+My particler business in the stable were Miss Dora's pony, Snowflake,
+darling Dora's darling, as it got called o' times. She rode out a great
+deal, did Miss Dora, and she rode well, and I generally 'ad to foller
+'er on the bay cob. She'd spend a lot o' time about this yer stable, one
+way and another, and we got to be werry partickler friends. Not as I
+presum'd, mind yer, nor as she forgot 'er station; she were just a
+hangel, she were, what couldn't be spoilt by nobody's company, and what
+couldn't 'elp a-makin' o' other people wish as they were summut in the
+hangel line, too.
+
+But yer a-gettin' impatient I see, gents, and I ax yer pardon for
+a-ramblin' a bit.
+
+Well, it were Chris'mas time, as it might be now, and young Markham
+(that were your father, Master 'Arry) he were 'ome from Oxford for 'is
+'olidays, with as nice a young fellow as ever stepped, as 'ad come with
+him to spend Chris'mas at the 'All. They called 'im the "Captain," not
+that he were a harmy captain, or anythink of that, he were a captain of
+summut at the college--maybe football or summut else. Somehow he often
+came 'ome with young Markham at 'oliday times, and 'im and Miss Dora was
+partickler friendly like.
+
+It were not a werry snowy Chris'mas that year, though there were plenty
+of frost, and the lake in the park would 'a' borne the London coach and
+four without a crack. Young Markham and the Captain and Miss Dora did a
+deal o' skatin', and ole Sir Markham invited a lot o' friends to come
+and stay Chris'mas for the sake o' the sport. They did say as Aunt
+Dorothy as Miss Dora were called arter 'ad been a-preachin' at 'im for
+a-neglectin' o' Miss Dora and a-keepin 'er at the 'All without no
+society, and I s'pose that's why Sir Markham were a-aggitatin' himself a
+bit cos' we never 'ad no fuss at Chris'mas as a rule.
+
+Well, we was werry busy at that time, I can tell yer; several of the
+wisitors brought their own 'osses with them, and me and my father had
+plenty to do a-lookin' arter 'em.
+
+Among the wisitors as come from London were a real military hofficer, a
+reg'lar scaff'ld pole he were, for length and breadth, with mustaches as
+'ud 'a' done for reins, if 'e'd only been a 'oss. He weren't no
+favourite o' mine, not from the fust. He were a bit too harbitry for me.
+He were a-thinkin' he were a-goin' to hintroduce 'is harmy regerlations
+into our stables; but he allus 'ad to wait the longest, for all 'is
+hinterferin'. But what used to rile me the most with him were 'is nasty,
+sneerin' ways at young Markham's friend, the Captain. Yer see, sir, he
+were a real harmy captain, and so I s'pose he were a bit jealous o' our
+young Captain, as was a lot better than 'im, arter all. O' course I
+didn't see it at the time, but I've said to myself lots o' times since,
+it were a reg'lar plant, that's what it were, that Aunt Dorothy 'ad
+brought the big soldier down o' purpose for Miss Dora to fall in love
+with; but 'e were just a little bit too late.
+
+Well, yer know, gents, I told yer as I were quite a youngster at the
+time, and though ole Sir Markham said as I were werry sharp, I must
+confess as I didn't quite understand 'ow things were a-goin' on. I
+noticed that the two captains kept pretty clear of each other, and that
+Miss Dora never came near the stables for three days together, which
+were a werry unusual thing for 'er; and one of the ole servants at the
+'All told me as the hofficer 'ad been hasking Sir Markham if he might
+pay his addresses to Miss Dora, and that Sir Markham 'ad said he might.
+
+My ole father were a-hactin' a bit queer about that time, too; he kept
+a-hasken' me if I'd like to be a postboy, or drive the London coach, or
+anything o' that, cos', he ses, "Yer know, Jim, Miss Dora 'll be
+marryin' somebody one o' these days, and maybe you'll 'ave to find
+summut else to do when Snowflake's gone." "Well," I ses, "if Miss Dora
+got married and go'd away, I reckon she'd take me with 'er to look arter
+'er 'osses, so I sha'n't want no postboy's place, nor coachun's neither,
+as I sees." And father he seemed pretty satisfied, he did, only 'e says,
+"If ever you should want to drive to Scotland, Jim," he ses, "you go
+across the moor to the Burnley Beeches, and then yer bears off to yer
+right by the Ambly Arms, three mile along you'll fine the great North
+Road, and there yer are."
+
+Well, I didn't take no notice of this, though father he kept on sayin'
+o' summut o' the sort all day long, and when it came to evenin', bein'
+Chris'mas Eve, we went up to the 'All to 'ave supper in the kitchen, and
+drink ole Sir Markham's 'elth. Sir Markham come down in the servants'
+'all and made a speech, and some o' the gents come down too; but while
+things were a-goin' at their 'ighest, my father he says to me, "Jim," 'e
+says, "if ever you want to go to Scotland you go across the moor to the
+Burnley Beeches, and then yer bears off to yer right by the Ambly Arms,
+three mile along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."
+"All right," I says, angry like, "I don't want no Scotland; what d'yer
+want to bother me for with yer Burnley Beeches, and yer Ambly Arms?"
+"Jim," 'e ses solemn, "yer never know how useful a bit of hinformation
+may come in sometimes; now," he says, "you'd better run over to the
+stables, and see if all is a-goin' on right." Well, I see it was no use
+argifyin', so off I starts. I sees as I comes near the stables as there
+were a light there, as ought not to be, and o' course, I run back'ard to
+tell my father, but lor, I thought he were off 'is 'ed, for all he ses
+was, "If ever you wants to go to Scotland, Jim, it's across the moor to
+the Burnley Beeches, off to yer right, by the Ambly Arms, three mile
+along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."
+
+They'd been a-drinkin' a bit 'ard some of 'em, and I ses to myself
+father's been a'elpin' of 'em, and I tears off to the stables to see
+what was up.
+
+Well, when I gets here, I comes in at that there door behind yer, sir,
+and what should I see, but Miss Dora in Snowflake's stall, a-kissin' and
+a-cryin' over 'im like mad. She didn't take no notice o' me no more'n if
+I hadn't been there at all, and I came and stood ag'in that there post
+as you were a-leanin' ag'in just now, sir. Little Dora were a-sobbin' as
+if 'er 'art would break, and she were a-tryin' to say "Good-bye."
+They're only little words, sir, at the most, but werry often they're the
+'ardest words in all the world to say.
+
+Well, sir, to make a long story short, it were just this: Sir Markham
+had told 'er as she mustn't think nothink of young Markham's college
+friend, 'cos 'e were poor and 'adn't nothink but 'is wits and 'is
+learnin' to live on, and that the tall soldier 'ad been a-haskin' for
+'er, and he'd promised 'er to 'im; and it 'ad clean broke 'er 'art, and
+so she 'ad come down to this yer stable where everythink loved 'er to
+tell 'er sorrows to her old pet Snowflake, to bury her face in his snowy
+neck, and wipe 'er eyes on his flowin' mane.
+
+But, afore I 'ad time to say anythink, who should foller me in at the
+door but the young Captain hisself, and 'e come and stood by me a moment
+without sayin' a word. He were werry pale, and 'is eyes shone like fire,
+and at last he ses, in a hoarse sort of a whisper, "Jim," 'e ses, "they
+wants to marry darling Dora to the big swaggerin' soldier, and I want
+yer to 'elp me prewent 'em." "'Elp yer prewent 'em," I ses; "why, I'll
+prewent 'em myself. I ain't werry big, p'r'aps, and maybe I couldn't
+reach 'is bloated face, but a stone 'ud find 'is head as quickly as it
+did the big Bible chap as David killed; and maybe I can shie." I hadn't
+practised on ole Sir Markham's apples for nothink.
+
+Well, sir, I needn't say as it didn't come to that. The fact is,
+everythink were arranged. It were a matter o' seventy miles to Scotland
+by the road, and they'd made up their minds to start for Gretna Green as
+soon as the wisitors 'ad gone to bed. Father were in the swim, and
+that's why he'd been a-'intin' to me all day and 'ad sent me to see what
+the light meant. My father 'e were a artful ole man, 'e were; he knowed
+better nor to 'ave anythink to do with it hisself. Why, I b'leave Sir
+Markham 'ud a murdered 'im if he 'ad, but me, o' course,--I was only a
+boy, and did as I were told.
+
+Well, sir, a-hactin' under horders, I were a-waitin' with the
+post-chaise at them Burnley Beeches at eleven o'clock. I'd been
+a-waitin' some time, and I begun to be afraid as they weren't a-comin'.
+At last I see a white somethink comin' along, and in another minute
+they was alongside. I shall never forget that night. Miss Dora fainted
+directly she were inside the carriage, and to me she looked as if she
+were dead. "For God's sake, and for Dora's sake, drive for your life,
+Jim!" said the young Captain, and I just did drive for my werry life. It
+was werry dark and I couldn't see much, and it must a bin a-rainin' or
+summut else,--anyhow there were a preshus lot o' water got in my eyes,
+till I couldn't see nothink. Father had taken care to git the 'osses in
+good condition, and they went away as though they knew as they were
+a-carryin' their darlin' Dora from death to life.
+
+From the Burnley Beeches I drove as I 'ad been directed, past the Ambly
+Arms, and three mile further I found the great North Road, and there I
+wore. You never know how useful a bit o' information may come in
+sometimes. It were pretty straight work now, and the only thing I 'ad to
+fear was a-wearin' out me 'osses afore we reached the Border. At two
+o'clock we stopped and baited, and the young Captain he give me the tip.
+He says, "Don't go _too_ fast," he ses; "they won't be arter us for an
+hour or two yet, if they come at all. I've given 'em summut else to look
+for fust," 'e ses, "and it'll take 'em all their time."
+
+Weil, there ain't no need to make a long story out o' our run to
+Scotland; we got there safe enough arter imaginin' as we was follered by
+highwaymen, and goblins, and soldiers, and hall sorts o' other hevil
+sperits, which were nothink but fancy arter all.
+
+Why, bless yer, we 'adn't no real need to fear; the young Captain he
+were one too many for 'em, he were, in more ways nor one. Afore he came
+away he smashed a big hole in the ice, in the middle of the lake, and
+put 'is 'at and Miss Dora's muff on the edge of the hole; and they were
+a-breaking up the ice and dragging the lake all Chris'mas Day instead of
+a-follerin' us.
+
+Next thing came the weddin' in the blacksmith's shop, where the young
+Captain took our darling Dora all to hisself, with ne'er a bridesmaid
+but me to give 'er away and everythink else. Poor little Dora, she
+fainted right off ag'in directly it were all over; and the young Captain
+he flushed up regular, like one o' them hero chaps as they put in books.
+I never see such a change in any one afore or since. 'E seemed as if 'e
+could do anything now Miss Dora were hall 'is own. I tell yer, sir, you
+can't fight nothing like 'arf so 'ard for yourself as yer can if you've
+got some one else to fight for.
+
+After the weddin', the Captain put up at the "Blacksmith's Arms," where
+'e writes a long letter to ole Sir Markham, and one to your father,
+Master 'Arry, which he give me to deliver, and with which I started 'ome
+ag'in.
+
+Ole Sir Markham never forgave the young Captain for a-runnin' off wi'
+Miss Dora, and if it 'adn't 'a' bin for your father, Master 'Arry, I
+shouldn't never 'a' come back to the 'All. Arter that they went abroad
+to some foreign place as I never heerd of, and they lost track of 'em up
+at the 'All too arter a bit; though I know as your father, Master 'Arry,
+used to send 'em lots o' things without Sir Markham a-knowin' anythink
+about it. And then came the letter with the black edge as said as our
+Dora 'ad died o' one of them furren fevers as I didn't even know the
+name of, and arter that we never heard no more. Poor ole Sir Markham
+began to break up werry soon arter that. He were not like the same man
+arter Miss Dora went, and werry soon 'e kept to the 'ouse altogether,
+and we never saw nothink of 'im out o' doors.
+
+Next thing we 'eard as he were ill, and everybody were a-wishin' as Miss
+Dora 'ud come back and comfort 'im. At last, when he were really
+a-dyin', 'e kep' on a-callin' her, "Dora, Dora," in 'is wanderin's like,
+and nobody couldn't answer 'im, their 'arts was that full as there
+weren't no room for words. I remember that night, sir, as if it were
+yesterday, and yet it were forty year ago, Master 'Arry, ten year afore
+you were born. It were Chris'mas Eve, and ole Sir Markham he were
+keepin' on a-haskin' for Miss Dora, and I couldn't stand it no longer,
+so I come over 'ere to smoke my pipe and be to myself, yer see, and bide
+my feelin's like. Well, I were a-sittin' on a stool in that there
+corner, a-thinkin' about ole Sir Markham and our darlin' Dora, when I
+looks up, and as true as I ever see anythin' in my life I see her
+a-standin' there afore me. She didn't take no notice of me, though, but
+she run into Snowflake's stall there, sir, and buried her pretty face in
+'is neck and stroked his mane and patted his sides, then she laughed one
+o' her silv'ry laughs and clapped 'er 'ands and calls out, "'Ome again,
+'ome again at last; happy, happy 'ome. Jim, Jim, where's that lazy Jim?"
+But lor', sir, she were gone ag'in afore I could get up off the stool. I
+rushed up to the 'All like lightnin', I can tell yer, and I see a bright
+light a-shinin' in ole Sir Markham's bedroom. I never knowed 'ow I got
+up them stairs, but I heerd ole Sir Markham cry out as loud as ever I
+heerd 'im in my life, "Dora, Dora, come at last; darling Dora, darling!"
+'E never said no more, did ole Sir Markham, she had taken 'im away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+You'll excuse me a-haskin' you not to lean ag'in that post, won't you,
+sir? It's a kind o' sort o' friend o' mine. There ain't a sorrow as I've
+ever had these forty year that I haven't shared with that post. It 'ave
+been watered by little Dora's tears, and it 'ave been watered by mine,
+and there ain't nothink in the 'ole world as I walues more. It ain't for
+the likes o' me to talk o' lovin' a hangel like 'er, sir, but I 'av'n't
+never loved no one else from that day to this, and maybe when my turn
+comes at last, Master 'Arry, to go where there ain't no difference
+between rich and poor, I may 'ear 'er bright sweet voice cry out ag'in
+to me: "'Ome ag'in, Jim: happy, happy 'ome!"
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE PEACE.
+
+BY NORA RYEMAN.
+
+
+In the heart of England stands a sleepy hollow called "Green Corner,"
+and in this same sleepy hollow stands a fine old English manor house
+styled "Green Corner Manor." It belongs to the Medlicott family, who
+have owned it for generations. In their picture gallery hangs a most
+singular picture, which is known far and wide as "The Portrait of Little
+Peace." It depicts a beautiful child in the quaint and picturesque
+costume of the age of King Charles II. A lamb stands by her side, and a
+tame ringdove is perched on her wrist. Her eyes are deeply, darkly blue,
+the curls which "fall adown her back are yellow, like ripe corn."
+Beneath this portrait in tarnished golden letters are these words of
+Holy Writ, "Blessed are the peacemakers," and if you read the chronicles
+of the Medlicott family you will read the history of this child. It was
+written by Dame Ursula, the wife of Godfrey Medlicott, and runs as
+under:--
+
+"It was New Year's Eve, and my heart was heavy, so also was my
+husband's. For 'Verily our house had been left unto us desolate.' Our
+son Hilary had died in France, and our daughter, Grace, slept in the
+chancel of the parish church with dusty banners once borne by heroic
+Medlicotts waving over her marble tomb. 'Would God, that I had died for
+thee, my boy,' said dead Hilary's father when he looked at the empty
+chair in the chimney corner; 'and, my darling, life is savourless
+without thee,' I cried in bitterness of spirit, as I looked at the
+little plot of garden ground which had been known as Mistress Gracie's
+garden when my sweet one lived. Scarcely had this cry escaped my lips
+when a most strange thing befel. Seated on the last of the terrace steps
+was a little child, who as I passed her stretched out her hand and
+caught fast hold of my gown. I looked down, and there, beside me, was a
+most singular and beautiful child. The moonlight fell on her small, pale
+face and long, yellow hair, and I saw that she was both poorly and
+plainly clad. 'What do you want, my little maid?' I asked. 'You, madam,'
+she said serenely. 'From whence have you come?' was my next query. 'From
+a prison in London town,' was the strange reply. Doubtless this child
+(so I reasoned) was the daughter of some poor man who had suffered for
+conscience' sake; and, mayhap, some person who pitied his sad plight had
+taken the girl and thrown her on our charity, or, rather, mercy.
+'Child,' said I, 'wilt come into the Manor with me, and have some
+chocolate and cake?' 'That will I, madam,' she answered softly. 'I came
+on purpose to stay with you.' The little one has partly lost her wits, I
+thought, but I said nothing, and the stranger trotted after me into my
+own parlour, just as a tame lamb or a little dog might have done. She
+took her seat on a tabouret at my knee, and ate her spiced cake and
+sipped her chocolate with a pretty, modest air. Just so was my Gracie
+wont to sit, and even as I thought of her my dim eyes grew dimmer still
+with tears. At last they fell, and some of them dropped on the strange
+guest's golden head, which she had confidingly placed on my knee.
+'Don't, sweet madam,' she said, 'don't grieve overmuch! You will find
+balm in giving balm! You will find comfort in giving comfort! For _I am
+Peace_, and I have come to tarry with you for a little space!' I
+perceived that the child's wits were astray, but, somehow, I felt
+strangely drawn to her, and as she had nowhere else to go I kept her
+with me, and that New Year's Eve she slept in my Grace's bed, and on
+the succeeding day she was clothed in one of my lost ewe lamb's gowns,
+and all in the household styled her Little Peace, because she gave no
+other name at all.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Time passed on--and the strange child still abode with us, and every
+day we loved her more, for she 'went about doing good,' and, what is
+more, became my schoolmistress, and instructed me in the holy art of
+charity. For my own great woe had made me forgetful of the woes and
+afflictions of others. This is how she went about her work. One winter
+day, when the fountain in the park was frozen, the child, who had been
+a-walking, came up to me and said, 'Dear madam, are apples good?' 'Of a
+surety they are--excellent for dessert, and also baked, with spiced ale.
+Wherefore dost ask?' 'Because old Gaffer Cressidge, and the dame his
+wife, are sitting eating baked apples and dry bread over in Ashete
+village, and methinks that soup would suit them better. Madam, we must
+set the pot boiling, and I will take them some. And, madam, dear, there
+must be a cupboard in this house.' 'Alack, my pretty one,' said I, 'of
+cupboards we already have enow. There is King Charles's cupboard in
+which we hid his Majesty after Worcester fight, and the green and blue
+closet, as well as many others. Sure, you prattle of that of which you
+do not know.' She shook her fair, bright head, and answered, 'Nay,
+madam, there is no strangers' cupboard for forlorn wayfarers, and there
+must be one, full of food, and wine, and physic, and sweet,
+health-restoring cordials. And the birdies must have a breakfast daily.
+Dorothy, the cookmaid, must boil bread in skimmed milk, and throw it on
+the lawn; then Master Robin and Master Thrush and Mistress Jenny Wren
+will all feast together. I once saw the little princes, in King Edward's
+time, feed the birdies thus; and so did Willie Shakespeare, in Stratford
+town.' Alas, I thought, alas, all is _now too_ plain. This child must
+have been akin to some great scholar, who taught her his own lore, and
+too much learning hath assuredly made her mad; but I will humour her,
+and then will try to bring her poor wits home. Thus reasoning, I placed
+her by my side, and cast my arms around her, and then I whispered, 'Tell
+me of thyself.' 'That will I,' she replied. 'I am Peace, and I come both
+in storms and after them. I came to Joan the Maid, on her stone scaffold
+in the Market Place of Rouen. I came to Rachel Russel when she sustained
+her husband's courage. I came to Mère Toinette, the brown-faced peasant
+woman, when she denied herself for her children. I came to Gaffer and
+Grannie Cressidge as they smiled at each other when eating the apples
+and bread. And I came to a man named Bunyan in his prison, and lo! he
+wrote of _me_. Now I have come to you.' 'Yea, to stay with me,' I said,
+but she answered not, she only kissed my hand, and on the morrow, when
+the wintry sunlight shone on all things within the manor house, it did
+_not_ shine upon her golden head! Her little bed was empty, so was her
+little chair; but the place she had filled in my heart was _still_
+filled, and so I think it will be for ever! Some there are who call her
+a Good Fay or Fairy, and some there are who call her by another and
+sweeter name, but I think of her always as Little Peace, the hope giver,
+who came to teach me when my eyes were dim with grief. For no one can
+tell in what form a blessing will cross his threshold and dwell beside
+him as his helper, friend, and guest."
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF WASSILI AND DARIA.
+
+_A RUSSIAN STORY._
+
+BY ROBERT GUILLEMARD.
+
+
+Whilst staying in Siberia, on one occasion, when returning from an
+evening walk in the woods I was surprised at seeing a young Russian girl
+crying beside a clump of trees; she seemed pretty, and I approached; she
+saw me not, but continued to give vent to her tears.
+
+I stopped to examine her appearance; her black hair, arranged in the
+fashion of the country, flowed from under the diadem usually worn by the
+Siberian girls, and formed a striking contrast, by its jet black colour,
+with the fairness of her skin. Whilst I was looking at her, she turned
+her head, and, perceiving me, rose in great haste, wiped off her tears,
+and said to me:
+
+"Pardon me, father--but I am very unfortunate."
+
+"I wish," said I, "that it were in my power to give you any
+consolation."
+
+"I expect no consolation," she replied; "it is out of your power to give
+me any."
+
+"But why are you crying?"
+
+She was silent, and her sobs alone intimated that she was deeply
+afflicted.
+
+"Can you have committed any fault," said I, "that has roused your
+father's anger against you?"
+
+"He is angry with me, it is true; but is it my fault if I cannot love
+his Aphanassi?"
+
+The subject now began to be interesting; for as Chateaubriand says,
+there were love and tears at the bottom of this story. I felt peculiarly
+interested in the narrative.
+
+I asked the young Siberian girl who this Aphanassi was whom she could
+not love. She became more composed, and with enchanting grace, and
+almost French volubility, she informed me that the summer before a
+Baskir family had travelled further to the north than these tribes are
+accustomed to do, and had brought their flocks into the neighbourhood of
+the zavode of Tchornaïa; they came from time to time to the village to
+buy things, and to sell the gowns called _doubas_, which their wives dye
+of a yellow colour with the bark of the birch tree. Now her father, the
+respectable Michael, was a shopkeeper, and constant communications began
+to be established between the Baskir and the Russian family. This
+connection became more close, when it was discovered that both families
+were of that sect which pretends to have preserved its religion free
+from all pollution or mixture, and gives its members the name of
+_Stareobratzi_. The head of the Baskir family, Aphanassi, soon fell in
+love with young Daria, and asked her in marriage from her father; but
+though wealthy, Aphanassi had a rough and repulsive look, and Daria
+could not bear him; she had, therefore, given him an absolute refusal.
+Her father doated on her, and had not pressed the matter farther, though
+he was desirous of forming an alliance so advantageous to his trade; and
+the Baskir had returned to his own country in the month of August to
+gather the crops of hemp and rye. But winter passed away, and the heats
+of June had scarcely been felt before Aphanassi had again appeared, with
+an immense quantity of bales of rich _doubas_, Chinese belts, and
+kaftans, and a herd of more than five hundred horses; he came, in fact,
+surrounded with all his splendour, and renewed again his offers and his
+entreaties. Old Michael was nearly gained by his offers, and Daria was
+in despair, for she was about to be sacrificed to gain, and she detested
+Aphanassi more than she had done the year before.
+
+I listened to her with strong emotion, pitied her sorrows, which had so
+easily procured me her confidence, and when she left me, she was less
+afflicted than before.
+
+The next day I returned to the spot where I had seen her, and found her
+again; she received me with a smile. Aphanassi had not come that
+morning, and Daria, probably thinking that I would come back to the
+spot, had come to ask me what she ought to reply to him, as well as to
+her father. I gave her my advice with a strong feeling of interest, and
+convinced that pity would henceforward open to me the road to her heart,
+I tried to become acquainted with her family. The same evening I bought
+some things from old Michael, and flattering him on his judgment and
+experience, endeavoured to lay the foundation of intimacy.
+
+During several days I went regularly to the same spot, and almost always
+found Daria, as if we had appointed a meeting. Her melancholy increased;
+every time she saw me she asked for further advice, and although she
+showed me nothing but confidence, yet the habit of seeing her, of
+deploring her situation, of having near me a young and beautiful woman,
+after hearing for many, many months no other voices than the rough ones
+of officers, soldiers, and smiths--all these circumstances affected my
+heart with unusual emotion.
+
+The sight of Daria reminded me of the circumstances of my first love;
+and these recollections, in their turn, embellished Daria with all their
+charms.
+
+One day she said to me:
+
+"You have seen Aphanassi this morning at my father's; don't you think he
+is very rough, and has an ugly, ill-natured countenance?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+"Well, I will show you whom I prefer to him." She smiled in saying this,
+and I was powerfully affected, as if she had been about to say, "You are
+the man!" She then threw back the gauze veil that flowed from her
+head-dress, and instantly, at a certain signal, a young man sprung from
+behind the trees and cried out to me:
+
+"Thank you, Frenchman, for your good advice! I am Wassili, the friend of
+Daria!"
+
+This sight perfectly confounded me. So close to love, and to be nothing
+but a confidant after all! I blushed for shame, but Daria soon
+dispelled this impulse of ill-humour. She said to me:
+
+"Wassili, whom I have never mentioned to you, is my friend; I was
+desirous of making you acquainted with him. But he was jealous because
+you gave me consolation and I wished him to remain concealed from you,
+that he might be convinced by your language of the worthiness of your
+sentiments. Wassili will love you as I do; stranger, still give us your
+advice!"
+
+The words of Daria calmed my trouble; and I felt happy that, at a
+thousand leagues from my native land, in the bosom of an enemy's
+country, I was bound by no tie to a foreign soil, but could still afford
+consolation to two beings in misfortune.
+
+Wassili was handsome and amiable; he was also wealthy; but Aphanassi was
+much more so, and old Michael, though formerly flattered with the
+attentions of Wassili to his daughter, now rejected them with disdain.
+We agreed upon a plan of attack against the Baskir. I talked to Michael
+several times on the subject, and tried to arrange their differences;
+but it was of no avail.
+
+Meanwhile took place the feast of St. John, the patron saint of
+Tchornaïa, which assembled all the inhabitants of the neighbouring
+villages.
+
+Early in the morning of the holiday, the whole of the inhabitants,
+dressed in their finest clothes, get into a number of little narrow
+boats, made of a single tree, like the canoes of the South Sea savages.
+A man is placed in the middle with one oar in his hands, and strikes the
+water first on one side and then on the other, and makes the boat move
+forward with great velocity. These frail skiffs are all in a line, race
+against each other, and perform a variety of evolutions on the lake. The
+women are placed at the bow and stern, and sing national songs, while
+the men are engaged in a variety of exercises and amusements on the
+shore. A large barge, carrying the heads of the village and the most
+distinguished inhabitants, contains a band of music, whose harmony
+contrasts with the songs that are heard from the other boats.
+
+Beautiful weather usually prevails at this season, and the day closes
+with dances and suppers in the open air; and the lake of Tchornaïa,
+naturally of a solitary aspect, becomes all at once full of life and
+animation, and presents an enchanting prospect.
+
+Wassili had got several boats ready, which were filled with musicians,
+who attracted general attention, and were soon followed by almost all
+the skiffs in the same way as the gondolas in the Venetian lagoons
+follow the musical amateurs who sing during the night. Wassili knew that
+Michael would be flattered to hear an account of the success he had
+obtained: but Aphanassi had also come to the festival. As soon as he
+learned that the musicians of Wassili were followed by the crowd, and
+that his rival's name was in every one's mouth, he collected twenty of
+his finest horses, covered them with rich stuffs, and, as soon as the
+sports on the lake were over, began, by the sound of Tartar music, a
+series of races on the shore, which was a novel sight in the summer
+season, and was generally admired. His triumph was complete, and at
+Tchornaïa nothing was talked of for several days but the races on the
+shore of the lake, and the Baskir's influence with Michael increased
+considerably.
+
+The grief of Daria made her father suspect that she met Wassili out of
+the house, and he confined her at home. I saw none but the young man,
+whose communications were far from being so pleasing to me as those of
+Daria. Towards the end of July he informed me that Aphanassi had made
+another attempt to get her from her father; but that the old man was so
+overcome with her despair that he had only agreed that the marriage
+should take place the ensuing summer, delaying the matter under the
+pretext of getting her portion ready, but, in truth, to give her time to
+make up her mind to follow the Baskir.
+
+About this period Wassili was sent by M. Demidoff's agent, at the head
+of a body of workmen, to the centre of the Ural Mountains to cut down
+trees and burn them into charcoal. He was not to return till the middle
+of September. During his absence I saw Daria almost daily; she had lost
+the brilliancy of her look, but it seemed to me that her beauty was
+increased, her countenance had assumed such an expression of melancholy.
+I had gradually obtained the goodwill of Michael, and dispelled, as far
+as lay in my power, the sorrows of his daughter. I was a foreigner, a
+prisoner, little to be feared, and pretty well off in regard to money,
+so that Michael felt no alarm at seeing me, and neglected no opportunity
+of showing me his goodwill.
+
+I received a strong proof of this about the middle of August. He brought
+me to a family festival that takes place at the gathering of the
+cabbage, and to which women only are usually admitted; it is, in fact,
+their vintage season.
+
+On the day that a family is to gather in their cabbage, which they salt
+and lay up for the winter season, the women invite their female friends
+and neighbours to come and assist them. On the evening before, they cut
+the cabbages from the stem, and pull off the outside leaves and earth
+that may be adhering to them. On the grand day, at the house where the
+cabbages are collected, the women assemble, dressed in their most
+brilliant manner, and armed with a sort of cleaver, with a handle in the
+centre, more or less ornamented, according to the person's rank. They
+place themselves round a kind of trough containing the cabbages. The old
+women give the signal for action; two of the youngest girls take their
+places in the middle of the room, and begin to dance a kind of
+allemande, while the rest of the women sing national songs, and keep
+time in driving their knives into the trough. When the girls are tired
+with dancing, two more take their place, always eager to surpass the
+former by the grace with which they make their movements. The songs
+continue without intermission, and the cabbages are thus cut up in the
+midst of a ball, which lasts from morning till night. Meanwhile, the
+married women carry on the work, salt the cabbages, and carefully pack
+them in barrels. In the evening the whole party sit down to supper,
+after which only the men are admitted, but even then they remain apart
+from the women. Glasses of wine and punch go round, dancing begins in a
+more general manner, and they withdraw at a late hour, to begin the same
+amusement at another neighbour's till all the harvest is finished.
+
+Amidst all these young girls Daria always seemed to me the most amiable!
+she danced when called upon by her mother; her motions expressed
+satisfaction, and her eyes, scarcely refraining from tears, turned
+towards the stranger, who alone knew her real situation, though amidst
+so many indifferent people who called themselves her friends.
+
+Towards the end of September, Wassili returned from the woods. Daria had
+a prospect of several months before her before the return of Aphanassi,
+if ever he should return at all; and she gave herself up to her love
+with pleasing improvidence.
+
+At this period there came to Tchornaïa two Russian officers, with
+several sergeants, who were much more like Cossacks than regular
+soldiers. Their appearance was the signal of universal mourning--they
+came to recruit. They proclaimed, in the Emperor's name, that on a
+certain day all the men in the district, whatever their age might be,
+were to assemble in the public square, there to be inspected.
+
+At the appointed day every one was on the spot; but it was easy to see
+by their looks that it was with the utmost repugnance that they had
+obeyed. All the women were placed on the other side, and anxiously
+waited for the result of the inspection, and some of them were crying
+bitterly. I was present at this scene. The officers placed the men in
+two rows, and passed along the ranks very slowly. Now and then they
+touched a man, and he was immediately taken to a little group that was
+formed in the centre of the square. When they had run over the two rows,
+they again inspected the men that had been set apart, made them walk and
+strip, _verified_ them, in a word, such as our recruiting _councils_ did
+in our departments for many years. When a man was examined he was
+allowed to go, when the crowd raised a shout of joy; or he was
+immediately put in irons, in presence of his family, who raised cries of
+despair--this man was fit for service.
+
+These unfortunate beings, thus chained up, were kept out of view till
+the very moment of their departure. No claims were valid against the
+recruiting officer; age, marriage, the duties required to be paid to an
+infirm parent, were all of no avail; sometimes, indeed, it happened, and
+that but rarely, that a secret arrangement with the officer, for a sum
+of money, saved a young man, a husband, or a father from his caprice,
+for he was bound by no rule; it often happened, also, that he marked out
+for the army a young man whose wife or mistress was coveted by the
+neighbouring lord, or whom injustice had irritated and rendered
+suspected.
+
+To finish this description, which has made me leave my friends out of
+view, at a very melancholy period, I shall add a few more particulars.
+
+Wassili, as I said before, was at the review; the recruiting officer
+thought he would make a handsome dragoon, or a soldier of the guard,
+and, having looked at him from top to toe, he declared him fit for the
+army.
+
+Whilst his family were deploring his fate, and preparing to make every
+sacrifice to obtain his discharge, some one cried out that the officer
+would allow him to get off because he was wealthy, but that the poor
+must march.
+
+The Russian heard this, and perhaps on the point of making a bargain,
+felt irritated, and would listen to no sort of arrangement, as a
+scoundrel always does when you have been on the point of buying. Wassili
+was put in irons, and destined to unlimited service--that is, to an
+eternal exile, for the Russian soldier is never allowed to return to his
+home.[1] Daria nearly fell a victim to her grief, and only recovered
+some portion of vigour when the recruits were to set out.
+
+[Footnote 1: He is enrolled for twenty years--that is, for a
+whole life.]
+
+On that day the recruiting party gorge them with meat and brandy till
+they are nearly dead drunk. They are then thrown into the sledges and
+carried off, still loaded with irons. A most heart-rending scene now
+takes place; every family follows them with their cries, and chants the
+prayers for the dead and the dying, while the unfortunate conscripts
+themselves, besotted with liquor, remain stupid and indifferent, burst
+into roars of laughter, or answer their friends with oaths and
+imprecations.
+
+Notwithstanding the force that had been shown to him, Wassili had drunk
+nothing, and preserved his judgment unclouded; he stretched out his arms
+towards Daria, towards his friends, and towards me, and bade us adieu
+with many tears. Amidst the mournful sounds that struck upon her ears,
+the young girl followed him rapidly, and had time to throw herself into
+his arms before the sledge set out; but the moment he was beyond her
+reach, she fell backward with violence on the ice. No one paid the least
+attention to her; they all rushed forward and followed the sledges of
+the recruiting party, which soon galloped out of sight. I lifted Daria
+up; I did not attempt to restrain her grief, but took her back to her
+father's, where she was paid every attention her situation required. In
+about a month's time she was able to resume her usual occupations, but
+she recovered only a portion of her former self.
+
+Winter again set in. I often saw Daria, either at her father's house, or
+when she walked out on purpose to meet me, which her father allowed, in
+the hope of dissipating her sorrows. How the poor girl was altered since
+the departure of Wassili! How many sad things the young Siberian told me
+when our sledges glided together along the surface of the lake! What
+melancholy there was in her language, and superstition in her belief!
+
+I attempted to dissipate her sombre thoughts; but I soon perceived that
+everything brought them back to her mind, and that the sight of this
+savage nature, whose solitude affected my own thoughts with sorrow,
+contributed to increase her melancholy. Within her own dwelling she was
+less agitated, but more depressed; her fever was then languid, and her
+beautiful face despoiled of that expression, full of agreeable
+recollections, that animated her in our private conversation. These
+walks could only make her worse, and I endeavoured to avoid them. She
+understood my meaning. "Go," said she, "kind Frenchman, you are taking
+fruitless care; Wassili has taken my life away with him; it cannot
+return any more than he can."
+
+I still continued to see her frequently. Old Michael was unhappy because
+she wept on hearing even the name of Aphanassi; he foresaw that it would
+be out of his power to have this wealthy man for his son-in-law, for his
+promises had gained his heart long ago. However this may be, he made his
+preparations in secret, bought fine silks, and ordered a magnificent
+diadem to be made for his daughter. She guessed his object, and once
+said to me, "My father is preparing a handsome ornament for me; it is
+intended for the last time I shall be at church; let him make haste, for
+Daria won't keep him waiting."
+
+About the middle of June Aphanassi returned, more in love and more eager
+than ever, and, as soon as he appeared, the daughter of Michael was
+attacked by a burning fever that never left her. In a few days she was
+at the gates of death. All the care bestowed upon her was of no avail,
+and she died pronouncing the name of Wassili.
+
+Full of profound grief, I followed her body to the church of the
+Stareobratzi, at Nishnei-Taguil. It had been dressed in her finest
+clothing, and she was placed in the coffin with her face uncovered. The
+relations, friends, and members of the same church were present. The men
+were ranged on one side, and the women on the other. After a funeral
+hymn, in the language of the country, the priest, who was bare-headed,
+pronounced the eulogium of the defunct. His grey hair, long beard,
+Asiatic gown, and loud sobs, gave his discourse a peculiar solemnity.
+When it was finished, every one came forward silently to bid farewell to
+Daria, and kiss her hand. I went like the rest; like them I went alone
+towards the coffin, took hold of the hand I had so often pressed, and
+gave it the last farewell kiss.
+
+
+
+
+PLUCK, PERIL & ADVENTURE.
+
+
+
+
+MARJORIE MAY: A WILFUL YOUNG WOMAN.
+
+BY EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN.
+
+
+"How perfectly delightful! Just fancy riding along those lovely sands,
+and seeing real live Bedouins on their horses or camels! I declare I see
+camels padding along now! I wish it wouldn't get dark so fast. But the
+city will look lovely when the moon is up."
+
+"Is it quite safe?" asked a lady passenger, eager for the proposed
+excursion, but a little timid in such strange surroundings. For Mogador
+seemed like the ends of the earth to her. She had never been for a sea
+voyage before.
+
+"Oh, yes; safe enough, or Captain Taylor would never have arranged it.
+Of course, it might not be safe to go quite alone; but a party
+together--why, it's as safe as Regent Street."
+
+"What is this excursion they are all talking about?" asked Marjorie May,
+who had been standing apart in the bow of the boat, trying to dash in
+the effect of the sunset lights upon the solemn, lonely African
+mountains, with the white city sleeping on the edge of the sea,
+surrounded by its stretch of desert. It was too dark for further
+sketching, and the first bell had sounded for dinner. She joined the
+group of passengers, eagerly discussing the proposed jaunt for the
+morrow. Several voices answered her.
+
+"Oh, the captain is going to arrange a sort of picnic for us to-morrow.
+We have all day in harbour, you know, and part of the next. So to-morrow
+we are to go ashore and take donkeys, and ride out along the shore there
+for several miles, to some queer place or other, where they will arrange
+lunch for us; and we can wander about and see the place, and get back on
+board in time for dinner; and next day we can see the town. That only
+takes an hour or so. We leave after lunch, but it will give plenty of
+time."
+
+"I think the town sounds more interesting than the donkey-rides," said
+Marjorie. "I had not time to sketch in Tangiers, except just a few
+figures dashed off anyhow. I must make some studies of the Arabs and
+Nubians and Bedouins here. I shan't get another chance. This is the last
+African port we stop at."
+
+"Oh, I daresay you'll have plenty of time for sketching," answered her
+cabin companion to whom she had spoken; "but I wouldn't miss the ride if
+I were you. It'll be quite a unique experience."
+
+The dinner-bell rang, and the company on board the _Oratava_ took their
+seats in the pleasant upper deck saloon, where there was fresh air to be
+had, and glimpses through the windows of the darkening sky, the rising
+moon and brightening stars.
+
+Marjorie's next-door neighbours were, on one side, the lady whose cabin
+she shared, on the other a Mr. Stuart, with whom she waged a frequent
+warfare. He was an experienced traveller, whilst she was quite
+inexperienced; and sometimes he had spoken to her with an air of
+authority which she resented, had nipped in the bud some pet project of
+hers, or had overthrown some cherished theory by the weight of his
+knowledge of stern facts.
+
+But he had been to Mogador before, and Marjorie condescended to-night to
+be gracious and ask questions. She was keenly interested in what she
+heard. There was a Jewish quarter in the city as well as the Arab one.
+There was a curious market. The whole town was very curious, being all
+built in arcades and squares. It was not the least like Tangiers, he
+told her, which was the only African town Marjorie had yet visited. This
+cruise of the _Oratava_ had been a little unfortunate. The surf had been
+so heavy along the coast, that the passengers had not been able to land
+at any port of call since leaving Tangiers. They had had perforce to
+remain upon the vessel whilst cargo was being taken on and shipped off.
+But the sea had now calmed down. The restless Atlantic was quieting
+itself. The vessel at anchor in the little harbour scarcely moved. The
+conditions were all favourable for good weather, and the passengers were
+confident of their pleasure trip on the morrow.
+
+As Marjorie heard Mr. Stuart's description of the old town--one of the
+most ancient in Africa--she was more and more resolved not to waste
+precious moments in a stupid donkey-ride across the desert. Of course it
+would be interesting in its way; but she had had excellent views of the
+desert at several ports, whereas the interior of the old city was a
+thing altogether new.
+
+"I suppose it's quite a safe place?" she asked carelessly; and Mr.
+Stuart answered at once:
+
+"Oh, yes, perfectly safe. There are several English families living in
+it. I lived there a year once. Of course, a stranger lady would not walk
+about there alone; she might get lost in the perplexing arcades, and
+Arab towns are never too sweet or too suitable for a lady to go about in
+by herself. But I shall go and look up my friends there. It's safe
+enough in that sense."
+
+Marjorie's eyes began to sparkle under their long lashes. A plan was
+fermenting in her brain.
+
+"I think I shall spend my day there sketching," she said.
+
+"All right; only you mustn't be alone," answered Mr. Stuart in his
+rather imperious way. "You'd better take Colquhoun and his sister along
+with you. They're artists, and he knows something of the language and
+the ways of the Arabs."
+
+A mutinous look came over Marjorie's face. She was not going to join
+company with Mr. and Miss Colquhoun any more. She had struck up a rather
+impulsive friendship with them at the outset of the voyage, but now she
+could not bear them. It was not an exceptional experience with her. She
+was eager to be friends with all the world; but again and again she
+discovered that too promiscuous friendship was not always wise. It had
+been so in this case, and Mr. Colquhoun had gone too far in some of his
+expressions of admiration. Marjorie had discovered that his views were
+much too lax to please her. She had resolved to have very little more to
+do with them for the future. To ask to join them on the morrow, even if
+they were going sketching, was a thing she could not and would not
+condescend to.
+
+No, her mind was quickly made up. It was all nonsense about its not
+being safe. Why, there were English families and agents living in the
+place, and she would never be silly and lose herself or her head. She
+would land with the rest. There were about five-and-twenty passengers,
+and all of them would go ashore, and most would probably go for the
+donkey-ride into the desert. But she would quietly slip away, and nobody
+would be anxious. Some would think she had gone with the Colquhouns, who
+always sketched, or perhaps with Mr. Stuart, who had taken care of her
+in Tangiers. She was an independent member of society--nobody's especial
+charge. In the crowded streets of an Arab town nothing would be easier
+than to slip away from the party soon after landing; and then she would
+have a glorious day of liberty, wandering about, and making her own
+studies and sketches, and joining the rest at the appointed time, when
+they would be going back to the ship.
+
+So Marjorie put her paints and sketching pad up, provided herself with
+everything needful, and slept happily in her narrow berth, eagerly
+waiting for the morrow, when so many new wonders would be revealed.
+
+The morning dawned clear and fair, and Marjorie was early on deck,
+watching with delight the beautiful effects of light as the sun rose
+over the solemn mountains and lighted up the wide, lonely desert wastes.
+She could see the caravans of camels coming citywards, could watch the
+sunbeams falling upon the white walls, domes, and flat roofs of the
+ancient town. She watched the cargo boats coming out with their loads,
+and the familiar rattle of the steam crane and the shouts of the men
+were in her ears. The deck was alive with curious forms of Arabs come to
+display their wares. A turbaned man in one of the boats below was
+eagerly offering a splendid-looking, sable-black Nubian for sale, and
+Mr. Colquhoun was amusing himself by chaffering as though he meant to
+buy, which he could have done for the sum of eight pounds; for there is
+a slave market yet in Mogador, where men and women are driven in like
+cattle to be bought and sold.
+
+A duck had escaped from the steward's stores and was triumphantly
+disporting himself in the green water. The steward had offered a reward
+of half a dozen empty soda-water bottles to the person who would
+recapture the bird, and two boats were in hot pursuit, whilst little
+brown Arab boys kept diving in to try to swim down the agile duck, who,
+however, succeeded in dodging them all with a neatness and sense of
+humour that evoked much applause from the on-lookers. Marjorie heard
+afterwards that it took three hours to effect the capture, and that at
+least a dozen men or boys had taken part in it, but the reward offered
+had amply contented them for their time and trouble.
+
+Breakfast was quickly despatched that morning. Marjorie was almost too
+excited to eat. She was full of delightful anticipations of a romantic,
+independent day. Mr. Stuart's voice interrupted the pleasant current of
+her thoughts.
+
+"Would you like to come with me, Miss May? My friends would be very
+pleased, I am sure. We could show you the town, and you would be sure of
+a good lunch." He added the last words a little mischievously, because
+Marjorie was often annoyed at the persistent way in which people made
+everything subservient to meals. A bit of bread and a few dates or an
+orange seemed to her quite sufficient sustenance between a ship's
+breakfast and dinner.
+
+But such a commonplace way of spending a day was not in the least in
+accord with Marjorie's views. She thought she knew exactly what it would
+be like to go with Mr. Stuart--a hurried walk through the town, an
+introduction to a family of strangers, who would wish her anywhere else,
+the obligation to sit still in a drawing-room or on a verandah whilst
+Mr. Stuart told all the news from England, and then the inevitable
+lunch, with only time for a perfunctory examination of the city. She
+would not have minded seeing one of the houses where the English
+families lived, but she could not sacrifice her day just for that.
+
+"Oh, thank you, but I have made my plans," she answered quickly; "I must
+do some sketching. I've not done half as much as I intended when I
+started. I am a professional woman, you know, Mr. Stuart; I can't amuse
+myself all day like you."
+
+This was Marjorie's little bit of revenge for some of Mr. Stuart's
+remarks to her at different times, when she had chosen to think that he
+was making game of her professional work.
+
+Marjorie was not exactly dependent upon her pencil and brush. She had a
+small income of her own; but she would not have been able to live as she
+did, or to enjoy the occasional jaunts abroad in which her soul
+delighted, had it not been that she had won for herself a place as
+illustrator upon one or two magazines. This trip was taken partly with a
+view to getting new subjects for the illustration of a story, a good
+deal of which was laid abroad and in the East. An Eastern tour was
+beyond Marjorie's reach; but she had heard of these itinerary trips by
+which for the modest sum of twenty guineas, she could travel as a
+first-class passenger and see Gibraltar, Tangiers, several African
+ports, including Mogador, the Canary Islands, and Madeira, and be back
+again in London within the month. She was a good sailor, and even the
+Bay had no terrors for her; so she had enjoyed herself to the full the
+whole time. But she had not done as much work upon Arab subjects as she
+had hoped, and she was resolved not to let this day be wasted.
+
+Mr. Stuart would have offered advice; but Marjorie was in one of her
+contrary moods, and was afraid of his ending by joining her, and
+sacrificing his own day for her sake. She had a vaguely uneasy feeling
+that what she intended to do would not be thought quite "proper," and
+that Mr. Stuart would disapprove rather vehemently. She was quite
+resolved not to allow Mr. Stuart's prejudices to influence her. What was
+he to her that she should care for his approval or good opinion? After
+the conclusion of the voyage she would never see him again. She never
+wanted to, she said sometimes to herself, rather angrily; he was an
+interfering kind of autocratic man, for whom she felt a considerable
+dislike--and yet, somehow, Marjorie was occasionally conscious that she
+thought more about Mr. Stuart than about all the rest of the passengers
+put together.
+
+It was very interesting getting off in the boats, and being rowed to the
+city by the shouting, gesticulating Arabs. Marjorie liked the masterful
+way of the captain and ship's officers with these dusky denizens of the
+desert. They seemed to be so completely the lords of creation, yet were
+immensely popular with the swarms of natives, who hung about the ship
+the whole time she was in harbour. The quay was alive with picturesque
+figures as they approached; but they did not land there. They passed
+under an archway into a smaller basin, and were rowed across this to
+another landing-place, where the same swarms of curious spectators
+awaited them.
+
+Marjorie's fingers were itching after brush and pencil. Everything about
+her seemed a living picture, but for the moment she was forced to remain
+with her fellow-passengers; and Mr. Stuart walked beside her, vainly
+offering to carry her impedimenta.
+
+"No, thank you," answered Marjorie briskly; "I like to have my own
+things myself. I am not used to being waited on. Besides, you are going
+to your friends. Oh, what a curious place! what big squares! And it's so
+beautifully clean too! Call Arab towns dirty? Why, there's no dirt
+anywhere; and oh, look at those people over yonder! What are they
+doing?"
+
+"Washing their clothes by treading on them. They always chant that sort
+of sing-song whilst they are trampling them in the water. That is the
+custom-house yonder, where they are taking the cargo we have just sent
+off. Now we must go through the gate, and so into the town; but you will
+find it all like this--one square or arcade leading into another by
+gateways at the end. That's the distinguishing feature of Mogador, and
+you will find some of them pretty dirty, though it's more dust than mud
+this time of year."
+
+Marjorie was enchanted by everything she saw. She only wished Mr. Stuart
+would take himself off, for she saw no chance of slipping away
+unobserved if he were at her side. Luckily for her, a young man came
+hurriedly to meet them from somewhere in the opposite direction, and,
+greeting Mr. Stuart with great effusion, carried him off forthwith,
+whilst Marjorie hurried along after the rest of the party.
+
+But they had no intention of exploring the wonderful old town that day.
+They turned into a little side street, where there was nothing
+particular to see, but where, outside the agent's office, a number of
+donkeys were waiting. Marjorie caught hold of Miss Craven, her cabin
+companion, and said hastily:
+
+"I'm not going this ride; I don't care for being jolted on a donkey,
+with only a pack of straw for a saddle and a rope for a bridle. I must
+get some sketches done. The Colquhouns are going to sketch. I can find
+them if I want. Don't let anybody bother about me. I'll join you in time
+to go back to the boat at five."
+
+"Well, take care of yourself," said Miss Craven, "and don't wander about
+alone, for it's a most heathenish-looking place. But you will be all
+right with the Colquhouns."
+
+"Oh, yes," answered Marjorie, turning away with a burning face. She
+felt rather guilty, as though she had gone near to speaking an untruth,
+although no actual falsehood had passed her lips. Nobody heeded her as
+she slipped through the crowd of donkey boys and onlookers. Some offered
+her their beasts, but she smiled and shook her head, and hurried back to
+the main route through the larger arcades. Once there, she went
+leisurely, eagerly looking into shop doors, watching the brass-beating,
+the hand-loom weaving, and dashing off little pencil sketches of the
+children squatting at their tasks, or walking to or fro as they
+performed some winding operations for an older person seated upon the
+floor.
+
+Nobody molested her in any way or seemed to notice her much. Sometimes a
+shopkeeper would offer her his wares in dumb show; but Marjorie had very
+little money with her, and, knowing nothing of the value of these
+things, was not to be tempted.
+
+The sun poured down hot and strong, but there was shade to be had in
+these arcaded streets; and though some of them were anything but clean
+or sweet, Marjorie forgave everything for the sake of the beauty and
+picturesqueness of the scene. She wandered here, there, and all over;
+she found herself in the long, straggling market, and made hasty
+sketches of the men and women chaffering at their stalls; of camels,
+with their strange, sleepy, or vicious faces, padding softly along,
+turning their heads this way and that. She watched the lading of the
+beasts, and heard their curious grunts of anger or remonstrance when the
+load exceeded their approval. Everything was full of attraction for her,
+and she only waited till she had explored the place to set herself down
+and make some coloured sketches.
+
+She soon had a following of small boys and loiterers, all interested in
+the doings of the strange lady with her sketchbook, but Marjorie did not
+mind that. She made some of the children stand to her, and got several
+rather effective groups.
+
+Then she set herself to work in greater earnest. She obtained a seat in
+one or two places, and dashed in rapid coloured studies which she could
+work upon afterwards. Her _forte_ was for bold effects rather than for
+detail, and the strange old city gave her endless subjects. She did not
+heed the flight of time. She passed from spot to spot, with her
+following growing larger and larger, more and more curious: and so
+engrossed was she in her task, that the lengthening of the shadows and
+the dipping of the sun behind the walls did not attract her attention.
+It was only when she suddenly found herself enveloped in the
+quick-coming, semi-tropical shades of darkness that she realised the
+necessity to beat a retreat.
+
+She rose quickly and put up her things. There was a ring many deep about
+her of curious natives, Arabs, Moors, Jews, Turks--she knew not how many
+nationalities were gathered together in that circle. In the broad light
+of day she had felt no qualm of uneasiness at the strange dusky faces.
+Nobody had molested her, and Marjorie, partly through temperament,
+partly through ignorance, had been perfectly fearless in this strange
+old city. But with the dimness of evening gathering, she began to wish
+herself safe on board the _Oratava_ again; and though she retained her
+air of serene composure, she felt a little inward tremor as she moved
+away.
+
+The crowd did not attempt to hold her back, but walked with her in a
+sort of compact bodyguard; and amongst themselves there was a great deal
+of talking and gesticulating, which sounded very heathenish and a little
+threatening to Marjorie.
+
+She had realised before that Mogador was a larger place than she had
+thought, and now she began to discover that she had no notion of the
+right way to the quay. The arcades hemmed her in. She could see nothing
+but walls about her and the ever-increasing crowd dogging her steps. Her
+heart was beating thick and fast. She was tired and faint from want of
+food, and this sudden and unfamiliar sense of fear robbed her of her
+customary self-command and courage. She felt more like bursting into
+tears than she ever remembered to have done before.
+
+It was no good going on like this, wandering helplessly about in the
+darkening town; she must do something and that quickly. Surely some of
+these people knew a few words of English.
+
+She stopped and faced them, and asked if nobody could take her to the
+ship. Instantly they crowded round her, pointing and gesticulating; but
+whether they understood, and what they meant, Marjorie could not
+imagine. She remembered the name of the ship's agents, and spoke that
+aloud several times, and there were more cries and more crowding and
+gesticulation. Each man seemed struggling to get possession of her, and
+Marjorie grew so frightened at the strange sounds, and the fierce
+faces--as they seemed to her--and the gathering darkness, that she
+completely lost her head. She looked wildly round her, gave a little
+shrill cry of terror, and seeing the ring thinner in one place than
+another, she made a dart through it, and began to run as if for her very
+life. It was the maddest thing to do. Hitherto there had been no real
+danger. Nobody had any thought of molesting the English lady, though her
+behaviour had excited much curiosity. Anybody would have taken her down
+to the quay, as they all knew where she came from. But this head-long
+flight first startled them, and then roused that latent demon of
+savagery which lies dormant in every son of the desert. Instantly, with
+yells which sounded terrific in Marjorie's ears, they gave chase. Fear
+lent her wings, but she heard the pursuit coming nearer and nearer. She
+knew not where she was flying, whether towards safety or into the heart
+of danger. Her breath came in sobbing gasps, her feet slipped and seemed
+as though they would carry her no farther. The cries behind and on all
+sides grew louder and fiercer. She was making blindly for the entrance
+to the arcade. Each moment she expected to feel a hand grasping her from
+the rear. There was no getting away from her pursuers in these terrible
+arcades. Oh, why had she ever trusted herself alone in this awful old
+city!
+
+She darted through the archway, and then, uttering a faint cry, gave
+herself up for lost, for she felt herself grasped tightly in a pair of
+powerful arms, and all the terrible stories she had heard from
+fellow-passengers about Europeans taken captive in Morocco, and put up
+for ransom recurred to her excited fancy. She had nobody to ransom her.
+She would be left to languish and die in some awful Moorish prison.
+Perhaps nobody would ever know of her fate. That was what came of always
+doing as one chose, and making one's friends believe a falsehood.
+
+Like a lightning flash all this passed through Marjorie's mind. The next
+instant she felt herself thrust against the wall. Some tall, dark figure
+was standing in front of her, and a masterful English voice speaking
+fluent Arabic was haranguing her pursuers in stern and menacing accents.
+
+A sob of wonder and relief escaped Marjorie's white lips. She had not
+fallen into the hands of the Moors. Mr. Stuart had caught her, was
+protecting her, and when the mists cleared away from her eyes she saw
+that the crowd was quickly melting away, and she knew that she was safe.
+
+"Take my arm, Miss May," said Mr. Stuart; "they have sent back a boat
+for you from the ship. Captain Taylor is making inquiries for you too.
+Had you not been warned that a lady was not safe alone in Mogador--at
+least, not after nightfall?"
+
+Marjorie hung her head; tears were dropping silently. She felt more
+humiliated than she had ever done in her life before. Suppose Mr. Stuart
+had not come? It was a thought she could not bear to pursue.
+
+They reached the boat. The captain listened to the story, and he spoke
+with some grave severity to Marjorie, as he had a right to do; for he
+had done everything to provide for the safety of his passengers, and it
+was not right to him, or the company, for a wilful girl to run into
+needless peril out of the waywardness of her heart.
+
+Marjorie accepted the reproof with unwonted humility, and Mr. Stuart
+suddenly spoke up for her:
+
+"She will not do it again, captain; I will answer for her."
+
+"All right, Mr. Stuart; I don't want to say any more. All's well that's
+ends well; but----"
+
+He checked further words, but Marjorie's cheeks whitened. She seemed to
+see again those strange, fierce faces, and hear the cries of her
+pursuers. In the gathering darkness Mr. Stuart put out his hand and took
+firm hold of hers. She started for a moment, and then let it lie in his
+clasp. Indeed, she felt her own fingers clinging to that strong hand,
+and a thrill went through her as she felt his clasp tighten upon them.
+
+They reached the side of the vessel; officers and passengers were
+craning over to get news of the missing passenger.
+
+"Here she is, all safe!" cried the captain rather gruffly, and a little
+cry of relief went up, followed by a cheer.
+
+Mr. Stuart leant forward in the darkness and whispered:
+
+"You see what a commotion you have made, Marjorie, I think you will have
+to let me answer for you, and take care of you in the future."
+
+"I think I shall," she answered, with a little tremulous laugh that was
+half a sob, and in the confusion of getting the boat brought up
+alongside Marjorie felt a lover's kiss upon her cheek.
+
+
+
+
+FOURTH COUSINS.
+
+BY GORDON STABLES, M.D., R.N.
+
+
+In the early summer of 1860 I went upon a visit to a distant relative of
+mine, who lived in one of the Shetland Islands. It was early summer with
+myself then: I was a medical student with life all before me--life and
+hope, and joy and sorrow as well. I went north with the intention of
+working hard, and took quite a small library with me; there was nothing
+in the shape of study I did not mean to do, and to drive at: botany, the
+_flora_ of the _Ultima Thule_, its _fauna_ and geology, too, to say
+nothing of chemistry and therapeutics. So much for good intentions,
+but--I may as well confess it as not--I never once opened my huge box of
+books during the five months I lived at R----, and if I studied at all
+it was from the book of Nature, which is open to every one who cares to
+con its pages.
+
+The steamboat landed me at Lerwick, and I completed my journey--with my
+boxes--next day in an open boat.
+
+It was a very cold morning, with a grey, cold, choppy sea on, the spray
+from which dashed over the boat, wetting me thoroughly, and making me
+feel pinched, blear-eyed, and miserable. I even envied the seals I saw
+cosily asleep in dry, sandy caves, at the foot of the black and beetling
+rocks.
+
+How very fantastic those rocks were, but cheerless--so cheerless! Even
+the sea birds that circled around them seemed screaming a dirge. An
+opening in a wall of rock took us at length into a long, winding fiord,
+or arm of the sea, with green bare fields on every side, and wild,
+weird-like sheep that gazed on us for a moment, then bleated and fled.
+Right at the end of this rock stood my friend's house, comfortable and
+solid-looking, but unsheltered by a single tree.
+
+"I sha'n't stay long here," I said to myself, as I landed.
+
+An hour or two afterwards I had changed my mind entirely. I was seated
+in a charmingly and cosily-furnished drawing-room upstairs. The windows
+looked out to and away across the broad Atlantic. How strange it was;
+for the loch that had led me to the front of the house, and the waters
+of which rippled up to the very lawn, was part of the German Ocean, and
+here at the back, and not a stone's throw distant, was the Atlantic! Its
+great, green, dark billows rolled up and broke into foam against the
+black breastwork of cliffs beneath us; the immense depth of its waves
+could be judged of by keeping the eye fixed upon the tall, steeple-like
+rocks which shot up here and there through the water a little way out to
+sea: at one moment these would appear like lofty spires, and next they
+would be almost entirely swallowed up.
+
+Beside the fire, in an easy chair, sat my grey-haired old relation and
+host, and, not far off, his wife. Hospitable, warm-hearted, and genial
+both of them were. If marriages really are made in heaven, I could not
+help thinking theirs must have been, so much did they seem each other's
+counterpart.
+
+Presently Cousin Maggie entered, smiling to me as she did so; her left
+hand lingered fondly for a moment on her father's grey locks, then she
+sat down unbidden to the piano. My own face was partially shaded by the
+window curtain, so that I could study that of my fair cousin as she
+played without appearing rude. Was she beautiful? that was the question
+I asked myself, and was trying hard to answer. Every feature of her face
+was faultless, her mouth and ears were small, she had a wealth of rich,
+deep auburn hair, and eyes that seemed to have borrowed the noonday
+tints of a summer sea, so bright, so blue were they. But was she
+beautiful? I could not answer the question then.
+
+On the strength of my blood relationship, distant though it was, for we
+were really only third or fourth cousins, I was made a member of this
+family from the first, and Maggie treated me as a brother. I was not
+entirely pleased with the latter arrangement, because many days had not
+passed ere I concluded it would be a pleasant pastime for me to make
+love to Cousin Maggie. But weeks went by, and my love-making was still
+postponed; it became a _sine die_ kind of a probability. Maggie was
+constantly with me when out of doors--my companion in all my fishing and
+shooting trips. But she carried not only a rod but even a rifle herself,
+she could give me lessons in casting the fly--and did; she often shot
+dead the seals that I had merely wounded, and her prowess in rowing
+astonished me, and her daring in venturing so far to sea in our broad,
+open boat often made me tremble for our safety.
+
+A frequent visitor for the first two months of my stay at R---- was a
+young and well-to-do farmer and fisher, who came in his boat from a
+neighbouring island, always accompanied by his sister, and they usually
+stayed a day or two. I was not long in perceiving that this Mr.
+Thorforth was very fond of my cousin; the state of her feelings towards
+him it was some time before I could fathom, but the revelation came at
+last, and quite unexpectedly.
+
+There was an old ruin some distance from the house, where, one lovely
+moonlight night, I happened to be seated alone. I was not long alone,
+however; from a window I could see my cousin and Thorforth coming
+towards the place, and, thinking to surprise them, I drew back under the
+shadow of a portion of the wall. But I was not to be an actor in that
+scene, though it was one I shall never forget. I could not see _his_
+face, but hers, on which the moonbeams fell, was pained,
+half-frightened, impatient. He was telling her he loved her and asking
+her to love him in return. She stopped him at last.
+
+What she said need not be told. In a few moments he was gone, and she
+was standing where he left her, following him with pitying eyes as he
+walked hurriedly away.
+
+Next day Magnus Thorforth said goodbye and left: even his sister looked
+sad. She must have known it all. I never saw them again.
+
+One day, about a month after this, Maggie and I were together in a cave
+close by the ocean--a favourite haunt of ours on hot forenoons. Our boat
+was drawn up close by, the day was bright, and the sea calm, its tiny
+wavelets making drowsy, dreamy music on the yellow sands.
+
+She had been reading aloud, and I was gazing at her face.
+
+"I begin to think you are beautiful," I said.
+
+She looked down at me where I lay with those innocent eyes of hers, that
+always looked into mine as frankly as a child's would.
+
+"I'm not sure," I continued, "that I sha'n't commence making love to
+you, and perhaps I might marry you. What would you think of that?"
+
+"Love!" she laughed, as musically as a sea-nymph--"love? Love betwixt a
+cousin and a cousin? Preposterous!"
+
+"I daresay," I said, pretending to pout, "you wouldn't marry me because
+I'm poor."
+
+"Poor!" she repeated, looking very firm and earnest now; "if the man I
+loved were poor, I'd carry a creel for him--I'd gather shells for his
+sake; but I don't love anybody and don't mean to. Come."
+
+So that was the beginning and end of my love-making for Cousin Maggie.
+
+And Maggie had said she never meant to love any one. Well, we never can
+tell what may be in our immediate future.
+
+Hardly had we left the cave that day, and put off from the shore, ere
+cat's-paws began to ruffle the water. They came in from the west, and
+before we had got half-way to the distant headland a steady breeze was
+blowing. We had hoisted our sail, and were running before it with the
+speed of a gull on the wing.
+
+Once round the point, we had a beam wind till we entered the fiord,
+then we had to beat to windward all the way home, by which time it was
+blowing quite a gale.
+
+It went round more to the north about sunset, and then, for the first
+time, we noticed a yacht of small dimensions on the distant horizon. Her
+intention appeared to be that of rounding the island, and probably
+anchoring on the lee side of it. She was in an ugly position, however,
+and we all watched her anxiously till nightfall hid her from our view.
+
+I retired early, but sleep was out of the question, for the wind raged
+and howled around the house like wild wolves. About twelve o'clock the
+sound of a gun fell on my ears. I could not be mistaken, for the window
+rattled in sharp response.
+
+I sprang from my couch and began to dress, and immediately after my aged
+relative entered the room. He looked younger and taller than I had seen
+him, but very serious.
+
+"The yacht is on the Ba,"[2] he said, solemnly.
+
+[Footnote 2: _Ba_ means a sunken rock.]
+
+They were words to me of fearful significance. The yacht, I knew, must
+soon break up, and nothing could save the crew.
+
+I quickly followed my relative into the back drawing-room, where Maggie
+was with her mother. We gazed out into the night, out and across the
+sea. At the same moment, out there on the terrible Ba, a blue light
+sprang up, revealing the yacht and even its people on board. She was
+leaning well over to one side, her masts gone, and the spray dashing
+over her.
+
+"Come!" cried Maggie, "there is no time to lose. We can guide their boat
+to the cave. Come, cousin!"
+
+I felt dazed, thunderstruck. Was I to take active part in a forlorn
+hope? Was Maggie--how beautiful and daring she looked now!--to assume
+the _rôle_ of a modern Grace Darling? So it appeared.
+
+The events of that night come back to my memory now as if they had
+happened but yesterday. It is a page in my past life that can never be
+obliterated.
+
+We pulled out of the fiord, Maggie and I, and up under lee of the
+island; then, on rounding the point, we encountered the whole force of
+the sea and wind. There was a glimmering light on the wrecked yacht, and
+for that we rowed, or rather were borne along on the gale. No boat, save
+a Shetland skiff, could have been trusted in such a sea.
+
+As we neared the Ba, steadying herself by leaning on my shoulder, Maggie
+stood half up and waved the lantern, and it was answered from the wreck.
+Next moment it seemed to me we were on the lee side, and Maggie herself
+hailed the shipwrecked people.
+
+"We cannot come nearer!" she cried; "lower your boat and follow our
+light closely."
+
+"Take the tiller now," she continued, addressing me, "and steer for the
+light you see on the cliff. Keep her well up, though, or all will be
+lost."
+
+We waited--and that with difficulty--for a few minutes, till we saw by
+the starlight that the yacht's boat was lowered, then away we went.
+
+The light on the cliff-top moved slowly down the wind. I kept the boat's
+head a point or two above it, and on she dashed. The rocks loomed black
+and high as we neared them, the waves breaking in terrible turmoil
+beneath.
+
+Suddenly the light was lowered over the cliff down to the very water's
+edge.
+
+"Steady, now!" cried my brave cousin, and next moment we were round a
+point and into smooth water, with the yacht's boat close beside us. The
+place was partly cave, partly "_noss_." We beached our boats, and here
+we remained all night, and were all rescued next morning by a
+fisherman's yawl.
+
+The yacht's people were the captain, his wife, and one boy--the whole
+crew Norwegians, Brinster by name.
+
+My story is nearly done. What need to tell of the gratitude of those
+Maggie's heroism had saved from a watery grave!
+
+But it came to pass that when, a few months afterwards, a beautiful new
+yacht came round to the fiord to take those shipwrecked mariners away,
+Cousin Maggie went with them on a visit.
+
+It came to pass also that when I paid my very next visit to R---- in the
+following summer, I found living at my relative's house a Major Brinster
+and a Mrs. Brinster.
+
+And Mrs. Brinster was my Cousin Maggie, and Major Brinster was my Cousin
+Maggie's fate.
+
+
+
+
+THE PEDLAR'S PACK.
+
+BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.
+
+
+Colonel Bingham was seated in his library facing the window that looked
+out on to the green sloping lawn, the smiling meadow, and the dark belt
+of firs which skirted the wood. There was a frown on his brow, and his
+eyes wore a perplexed look. On the opposite side of the room stood a
+young girl of seventeen balancing herself adroitly on the ridge of a
+chair, and smiling with evident satisfaction at her own achievement.
+
+The colonel was speaking irritably.
+
+"You see, you can't even now sit still while I speak to you, but you
+must poise yourself on your chair like a schoolboy. Is it a necessary
+part of your existence that you must behave like a boy rather than a
+girl?"
+
+Patty hung her head shamefacedly, and the smile left her lips.
+
+"And then, what is this that I hear about a rifle? Is it true that
+Captain Palmer has lent you one?"
+
+"Only just to practise with for a few weeks. Dad, don't be angry. He has
+a new one, so he doesn't miss it. Why"--warming to her subject and
+forgetting for the moment that she was in great danger of still further
+disgracing herself in her father's eyes by her confession--"I can hit
+even a small object at a very considerable distance five times out of
+six."
+
+The perplexed look deepened in her father's eyes, but the irritability
+had cleared away. He toyed with the open letter that he held in his
+hand. "I suppose it is for this as well as for your other schoolboy
+pranks that your aunt has invited only Rose. But I don't like it--it is
+not right. If it were not for the unfairness to Rose, I should have
+refused outright. As it is, the invitation has been accepted by me, and
+it must stand, for Rose must not be deprived of her pleasures because
+you like----"
+
+"Invitation! What invitation?" interrupted Patty.
+
+"Your aunt is giving a big ball on the 13th, and she is insistent that
+Rose should be present. It will be the child's first ball, and I cannot
+gainsay her. But, Patty, I should like you both to go. You are
+seventeen, are you not?"
+
+"Seventeen and a half," returned Patty with a little choke in her voice.
+
+It was the first she had heard of the invitation, and it stung her to
+think that Lady Glendower thought her too much of a hoyden to invite her
+with the sister who was but one year older. Patty was girl enough to
+love dancing even above her other amusements, and the unbidden tears
+came into her eyes as she stood looking forlornly at her father.
+
+Colonel Bingham coughed, and tapped his writing-desk with the letter.
+
+"Seventeen and a half," he repeated, "quite old enough to go to a ball.
+Never mind, Patty, I've a good mind to give a ball myself and leave out
+her younger daughter, only that it would be too much like _tu quoque_,
+and your aunt has a reason for not extending her invitation here which I
+should not have in relation to your cousin Fanny, eh, Patty?"
+
+But Patty's eyes were still humid, and she could only gaze dumbly at her
+father with such a pathetic look on her pretty face that Colonel Bingham
+could not stand it.
+
+"Look here, child," he said, "why aren't you more like your sister Rose?
+Then her pleasures would be always yours----"
+
+"Who's talking about me?" asked a gay voice, and into the room walked
+Patty's sister Rose.
+
+"I am. I have been telling Patty about the invitation."
+
+"Poor Patty!" said Rose, and she put her arm sympathetically round
+Patty's neck. "Aunt Glendower is most unkind, I think."
+
+"It can't be helped," murmured Patty, choking back the rising sob. "If I
+had been born a sweet maiden who did nothing but stitch at fancy-work
+all day long perhaps she would have invited me, but I can't give up my
+cricket, my riding my horse bare-backed, my shooting, just for the sake
+of a ball or two that Aunt Glendower feels inclined to give once a year.
+Much as I love dancing, I can't give up all these pleasures for an
+occasional dance."
+
+"Rose has pleasures too," said her father quietly, "but they are of the
+womanly kind--music, painting, reading, tending flowers."
+
+Rose laughed gaily as Patty turned up her pretty nose scornfully.
+
+"Let Patty alone, dad. You know very well that you would grow tired of
+too much sameness if Patty showed the same tastes that I have."
+
+Colonel Bingham glanced fondly at her and then at Patty, whose face, in
+spite of her brave words, was still very tearful-looking. He knew that
+in his heart he loved his two daughters equally--his "two motherless
+girls," as he was wont to call them--and although he belonged to the old
+school of those who abhor masculine pursuits for women, yet he felt that
+Rose's words were true, and for that very dissimilarity did he love
+them.
+
+"Heigho," said Patty, jumping off her chair, "I am not going to grieve
+any more. Let's talk of Rose's dress, and when she is going."
+
+"We both start to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow? And do you go too, dad?"
+
+"Yes, Patty. I have business in town with my lawyer, which I have been
+putting off from day to day, but now I feel I shall take the opportunity
+of transacting it with him on the occasion of taking Rose up with me.
+Besides, I can't let her go to her first ball without being there to see
+how she looks."
+
+"And what about the dress?"
+
+"Aunt says she will see to that, so we have to start a few days before
+the ball takes place for Céline to get a dress ready for me," said Rose,
+looking tenderly at Patty as she spoke, for the two girls loved each
+other, and it hurt her to think that Patty must be left behind.
+
+"You won't be nervous, child?" asked her father.
+
+"Nervous, father! dear me, no, a tomboy nervous? Why, I have Mrs.
+Tucker, cook, and Fanny to bear me company, and if you take the groom we
+shall still have the stable boy," returned Patty triumphantly.
+
+"I am glad you sent away that new coachman, dad," said Rose earnestly.
+"I never liked his face, it always looked so sly and sneaking."
+
+"Yes, I am glad too, and we must endeavour to find one when we are in
+town, and perhaps bring him back with us, Rose--the place is a lonely
+one without a man when I am away." He spoke the last words to himself,
+but the girls heard him and laughed. They knew no fear. Why should they?
+Nothing had ever come near to harm them during the short years of their
+existence in their country home.
+
+Colonel Bingham had of late questioned the wisdom of continuing to live
+with his daughters in his beautiful, isolated house. It was three miles
+from the nearest village, post-office, and church, and there was not
+another habitation within that distance; it was five miles from the
+nearest market town. But his heart clung to it. Hadn't he and his bride,
+twenty years before, chosen this beautiful spot of all others to build
+their house upon and make it their home? Had not his wife loved every
+nook and cranny, every stick and stone of the home they had beautified
+within and without? And therein lay the colonel's two chief objections
+to leaving the place--it was beautiful--and--his wife had loved it.
+
+So did his daughters too, for that matter; but they were growing up, and
+newer scenes and livelier surroundings were now needed for them. The
+colonel often caught himself pondering over the matter, and one of the
+reasons for his wishing to visit his sister was that of laying the
+matter open before her, and hearing her opinion from her own lips.
+
+At an early hour the next morning Colonel Bingham, Rose, and the groom,
+with two of the horses, had left the house.
+
+There was nothing to alarm Patty. The beautiful home with its peaceful
+surroundings was perfectly quiet for the two days that followed, and if
+Patty, in spite of her brave heart, had felt any qualms of fear, they
+had vanished on the morning of the third day, which dawned so
+brilliantly bright that she was eager to take her rifle and begin
+practising at the target she herself had set up at the end of the short
+wood to the left of the house.
+
+Meanwhile, the housekeeper had set both maids to work in turning out
+several unused rooms, and a great amount of brisk work was going on. The
+trim housemaid, Fanny, who was the housekeeper's niece, had come down
+the back stairs with an armful of carpets, and had brushed into the
+flagged yard before she noticed a pedlar-like-looking man standing
+before the back door with a pack upon his back.
+
+"What do you do here?" she called out sharply.
+
+The man appeared weighted down with his bundle, which looked to Fanny's
+eyes a good deal bigger than most of the pedlars' packs that she had
+seen.
+
+"I am on my way through the country-side selling what maids most love--a
+bit of ribbon, a tie, a good serviceable apron, a feather for the hat,
+and many a pretty gown; but on my way from the village I met a friend
+from my own part of the country, which is not in this county, but two
+counties up north, who tells me that my wife is lying dangerously ill.
+If I wish to see her alive I must needs travel fast, and a man can
+scarce do that with as heavy a pack on his back as I bear. What I
+venture to ask most respectfully is that I may place my pack in one
+corner of this house, and I will return to fetch it as soon as ever I
+can."
+
+He gave a furtive dab to his eyes with the corner of a blue-checked
+handkerchief he held in one hand, and hoisted his bundle up higher with
+apparent difficulty.
+
+Fanny looked gravely at him "Why didn't you leave your pack at the
+village inn?" was all she said.
+
+"I would have done so had I met my friend before leaving the village,
+but I met him just at the entrance to the wood, and it seemed hopeless
+to trudge all that way back with not only a heavy burden to bear, but a
+still heavier heart."
+
+He sighed miserably as he spoke, and Fanny's soft heart was touched.
+
+The man spoke well--better than many pedlars that Fanny had met with,
+and his tone was respectful, albeit very pleading. Fanny's heart was
+growing softer and softer. He looked faint and weary himself, she
+thought, and oh! so very sad----
+
+"Fanny, Fanny, what are you about? Ain't those carpets finished yet?"
+The housekeeper's voice sounded sharply at the top of the back
+staircase.
+
+The pedlar looked scared. Fanny beckoned him with one finger to follow
+her.
+
+"Coming, aunt," she called back. And, still silently beckoning, she
+conducted the pedlar into the small breakfast-room.
+
+"Put it down in this corner," she said, "and come for it as soon as you
+can."
+
+"May I beg that it will remain untouched," said the pedlar humbly. "It
+contains many valuables--at least to me--for it comprises nearly all
+that I possess in the world."
+
+"No one will touch it in here, for this room is never used."
+
+"I cannot thank you enough for your compassion----" began the pedlar,
+when the sharp voice was heard again.
+
+"Fanny, cook's waitin' for you to help her move some things. Are you
+comin' or not?"
+
+"Coming now," was Fanny's answer, and, shutting the breakfast-room door,
+she hustled the pedlar out into the flagged yard without ceremony.
+
+With a deferential lifting of his cap the pedlar again murmured his
+grateful thanks, and made his way out the way he had come in. Fanny
+waited to lock the yard gate after him, murmuring to herself: "That
+gate didn't ought to have been left open--it's just like that lazy boy
+Sam to think that now Britton's gone off with the horses he can do as he
+likes."
+
+It was not until the furniture in the room had been moved about to her
+satisfaction that the housekeeper demanded to know the reason for
+Fanny's delay downstairs.
+
+"It isn't cook's business to be waitin' about for you," she said
+sharply, "she's got her other duties to perform. What kept you?"
+
+Then Fanny told what had caused the delay, and was aghast at the effect
+it produced upon her aunt.
+
+"I wouldn't have had it happen just now for all my year's wages," the
+housekeeper exclaimed hotly. "What do we know about the man and his
+pack?"
+
+"He looked so white and quiet-like, and so sad," pleaded her niece half
+tearfully.
+
+"That's nothin' to us. I promised the master before he went away that I
+wouldn't let a strange foot pass over the doorway while he was away. And
+here you--a mere chit of a housemaid--go, without sayin', 'With your
+leave,' or, 'By your leave,' and let a dirty pedlar with his pack
+straight into the breakfast-room. He's sure to have scented the silver
+lyin' on the sideboard for cleanin' this afternoon. If I didn't think
+he'd gone a long way from here by this I would send you after him to
+tell him to take it away again."
+
+Having delivered herself of this long, explosive speech, the housekeeper
+proceeded in the direction of the breakfast-room to review the pack, and
+Fanny and the cook followed in her wake.
+
+"As I thought," she ejaculated, eyeing the pack from the doorway, "a
+dirty pedlar's smellin' pack." But the tone of her voice was mollified,
+for the pack looked innocent enough, although it was somewhat bulky and
+unwieldy in appearance.
+
+Her niece took heart of grace from her tone, and murmured
+apologetically:
+
+"He's got the loveliest things in that bundle that ever you'd see,
+aunt. Feathers, ribbons, dresses, aprons, and he'll unpack them all when
+he comes back to let us see them."
+
+"A pack o' tawdry rubbish, I have no doubt," was her aunt's reply; "only
+fit for flighty young girls, not for gentlemen's servants."
+
+Thus silenced, Fanny said no more, and the three women betook themselves
+to their different occupations.
+
+After half an hour's work her girlish glee was still unabated, and on
+passing the door of the breakfast-room mere curious elation impelled her
+to open it softly and to look in. A perplexed look stole into her eyes
+as they rested on the black object in the corner. It was there sure
+enough, safe and sound, but had it not been shifted from the corner in
+which the pedlar had placed it, and in which her aunt had seen it in
+company with herself and the cook? No, that was impossible. She had only
+fancied that it was right in the corner, and Fanny softly shut the door
+again without making a sound, and went on with her daily duties.
+
+This time her aunt employed her, and she was not free again till another
+two hours had passed. It was now close on the luncheon hour, and Fanny
+thought she would just take one little peep before setting the
+luncheon-table for the young mistress who would come home as usual as
+hungry as a hunter.
+
+Gently she turned the handle, and stood upon the threshold. Her eyes
+grew fixed and staring, her cheek blanched to a chalky white. Without
+all doubt--_the pack had moved_!
+
+Fanny stood rooted to the spot. Wild, strange ideas flitted through her
+brain. There was something uncanny in this pack. Was it bewitched? She
+dared not call her aunt or the cook: she was in disgrace with both, and
+no wonder, the poor girl thought miserably, for the very sight now of
+that uncouth-looking object in the corner was beginning to assume
+hideous proportions in the girl's mind. She must watch and wait, and
+wait and watch for every sign that the pack made, but oh! the agony of
+bearing that uncanny secret alone! Oh for some one to share it with
+her!
+
+A figure darkened the window of the breakfast-room, and Fanny caught
+sight of her young mistress's form as it passed with the rifle over her
+shoulder.
+
+With a soft step she left the room, and intercepted her on the other
+side of the verandah. "Miss Patty," she whispered miserably.
+
+Patty turned, her pretty face lighting up with a good-humoured smile as
+she nodded and said, "Luncheon ready, Fanny? I am simply ravenous."
+
+"Ye-es, I think so, miss. But oh! miss, I want to speak to you badly."
+
+Fatty came forward with the smile still on her lips. "Has Mrs. Tucker
+been scolding you dreadfully, you poor Fanny?"
+
+"Then she's told you?" gasped the girl.
+
+"She's told me nothing. I haven't seen her, but you look so woebegone
+that I thought she had been having a pitch battle with you for
+neglecting something or other, and you wanted me to get you out of the
+scrape."
+
+Fanny groaned inwardly. No, her aunt had said nothing, and she must
+brace herself up, and tell the whole story from beginning to end. The
+beginning, she began to think, was not so dreadful as the end. Oh that
+she could dare to disbelieve her eyes, and declare that there was no
+end--no awful, uncanny end!
+
+At length, in the quiet of the verandah, the story was told, and Fanny's
+heart misgave her more and more as she observed the exceeding gravity of
+her young mistress's bright face as the story neared its finish. When
+the finish did come, Patty's face was more than grave; the weight of
+responsibility was on her, and to young, unused shoulders that weight is
+particularly difficult to bear.
+
+"Come and show me where it is," was the only remark she made, but Fanny
+noticed that the red lips had lost some of their bright colour, and the
+pink in the soft cheeks was of a fainter tinge than when she had first
+seen her.
+
+Without making the slightest sound, without one click of the handle,
+Fanny opened the door, and Patty looked in. Her courage came back with
+a bound. Fanny was a goose, there was nothing to be alarmed about.
+
+She looked up to smile encouragingly at Fanny, when the smile froze on
+her lips, for Fanny's face was livid. Without a word she beckoned her
+young mistress out of the room, and as softly as before closed the door.
+Then, turning to her, she whispered through her set teeth:
+
+"_It has moved again!_"
+
+A cold shiver ran down through Patty's spine, but she was no girl to be
+frightened by the superstitious fancies of an ignorant serving maid.
+
+"Nonsense, Fanny!" she said sharply, "you are growing quite crazed over
+that stupid pack. I saw nothing unusual in it, it looked innocent enough
+in all conscience."
+
+"You never saw it move," was the answer, given in such a lifeless tone
+that Patty was chilled again.
+
+"I'll tell you what, Fanny. I'll go in after luncheon, and see if it has
+moved from the place I saw it in."
+
+"Did you notice the place well where it stood?" asked Fanny.
+
+"Yes," replied Patty, "I'd know if it moved again. Don't tell Mrs.
+Tucker or cook anything about it. You and I will try to checkmate that
+pack if there is anything uncanny in it. Now tell cook I am ready for
+luncheon if she is."
+
+But when the luncheon came on the table Patty had lost all hunger. She
+merely nibbled at trifles till Fanny came to clear away.
+
+"I'm going to that room," she whispered. "If Mrs. Tucker should want me,
+or perhaps Sam might, for I told him I was going to see how well he had
+cleaned the harness that I found in the loft, then you must come in
+quietly and beckon me out. Don't let any one know I am watching that
+pack."
+
+"Yes, miss," was Fanny's answer, given so hopelessly that Patty put a
+kind hand on her shoulder with the words:
+
+"Cheer up, Fanny. I don't believe it's so bad as you make out. It is my
+belief you have imagined that the pack moved."
+
+"It isn't my fancy, it isn't," cried the girl, the tears starting to her
+eyes. "If anything dreadful happens, then it is me that has injured the
+master--the best master that a poor girl could have." And with her apron
+to her eyes Fanny left the room.
+
+She came back a minute later to see Patty examining the priming of her
+rifle. "Miss Patty," she whispered aghast, "you ain't never going to
+shoot at it!"
+
+"I am going to sit in that room all the afternoon," said Patty calmly,
+"and if that pack moves while my eyes are on it I'll fire into that pack
+even if by so doing I riddle every garment in it." And without another
+word Patty stalked out of the room with her rifle on her shoulder.
+
+At the door of the breakfast-room she set her teeth hard, and opened the
+door.
+
+_The pack had moved since she saw it._
+
+It was with a face destitute of all colour that Patty seated herself
+upon the table to mount guard over that black object now lying several
+yards away from the corner. Her eyes were glued to the bundle; they grew
+large and glassy, and a film seemed to come over them as she gazed,
+without daring even to wink. How the minutes passed--if they revolved
+themselves into half hours--she did not know. No one called her, no one
+approached the door, she sat on with one fixed stare at the pedlar's
+pack.
+
+Was she dreaming? Was it fancy? No, the pack was moving! Slowly, very
+slowly it crept--it could hardly be called moving, and Patty watched it
+fascinated. Then it stopped, and Patty, creeping nearer, stood over it,
+and watched more closely. Something was breathing inside! Something
+inside that pack was alive! Patty could now clearly see the movement
+that each respiration made. She had made up her mind, and now she took
+her courage in both hands.
+
+She retreated softly to the opposite side of the room, and raising the
+rifle to her shoulder fired.
+
+There was a loud, a deafening report, a shrill scream, and a stream of
+blood trickled forth from the pack. Fanny was in the room crying
+hysterically, Mrs. Tucker and cook were looking over her shoulder with
+blanched faces.
+
+Patty, with her face not one whit less white than any of the others,
+laid the smoking rifle on the table, and spoke with a tremulousness not
+usual to her.
+
+"Mrs. Tucker, some vile plot has been hatched to rob this house while
+your master is away. That pack doesn't hold finery as Fanny was at first
+led to believe, but it holds a man, and I have shot him."
+
+With trembling hands and colourless lips Mrs. Tucker, with the help of
+her maids, cut away the oilcloth that bound the pack together, and
+disclosed the face of a short sturdy man, it was the face of the late
+coachman, Timothy Smith! With one voice they cried aloud as they saw it.
+
+"Dead! Is he dead?" cried Patty, shuddering and covering her face with
+her hands. "Oh, Mrs. Tucker, and it is I who have killed him!"
+
+A groan from the prostrate figure reassured the party as to the fatality
+of the adventure, and aroused in them a sense of the necessity of doing
+what they could to relieve the sufferings of their prostrate enemy.
+
+The huddled-up position occupied by the man when in the pack made him,
+of course, a good target, and made it possible for a single shot to do
+much more mischief than it might have done in passing once through any
+single part of his body. It was, of course, a random shot, and entering
+the pack vertically as the man was crouching with his hands upon his
+knees, it passed through his right arm and left hand and lodged in his
+left knee, thus completely disabling him without touching a vital part.
+
+With some difficulty they managed to get the wounded man on to a chair
+bedstead which they brought from the housekeeper's room for the purpose,
+and such "first aid" as Patty was able to render was quickly given.
+
+"And now," said Patty, "the question is, who will ride Black Bess to the
+village and procure help, for we must have help for the wounded as well
+as aid against the ruffians who no doubt intend to raid the house
+to-night."
+
+"Sam, miss?" questioned the housekeeper timidly. All her nerve seemed to
+have departed from her since the report of that shot had rung through
+the house, and there was Timothy Smith's face staring up at her. Usually
+a stout-hearted woman, all her courage had deserted her now.
+
+"Yes," said Patty gravely, "I think we shall have to take Sam into our
+confidence, unless I go myself. Perhaps, Mrs. Tucker, I had better go
+myself. Sam is only a boy, and he might be tempted to tell the story to
+everybody he met, and if the thieves themselves get wind of what has
+happened we shall have small chance of ever catching them. Would you be
+afraid if I rode off at once?"
+
+Without any false pride the young girl saw how much depended on her, and
+saw too the blanched faces of the two women as they looked in turn at
+each other at the thought of their sole protector vanishing.
+
+But it was only for a minute. Mrs. Tucker shook off with a courageous
+firmness the last remnant of nervousness that possessed her.
+
+"Go, and the Lord go with you, Miss Patty," she said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As she rode along through the quiet country lanes smelling sweet of the
+honeysuckle in the hedge and the wild dog-rose bursting into bloom,
+Patty's thoughts travelled fast and furiously, every whit as fast as
+Black Bess's hasty steps. Should she draw bridle at the village? No. She
+made up her mind quickly at that. In all probability the would-be
+thieves had made the village inn their headquarters for that day and
+night, and the pedlar--the man she wished most to avoid--would be the
+very person she would encounter. The village was small. Only one
+policeman patrolled the narrow-street, and that only occasionally, and
+how quickly would the news fly from mouth to mouth that a would-be
+robbery had been detected in time to save Colonel Bingham's valuable
+silver!
+
+No, the pedlar would not be allowed to escape in that way if she could
+help it. Every step of the five miles to the town of Frampton would she
+ride, and draw help from there.
+
+As she neared the village she walked her horse at a quiet pace, albeit
+her brain was throbbing, and her nerves all in a quiver to go faster.
+She nodded smilingly to the familiar faces as she met them in the
+street, although she felt very far from smiling, and everywhere she
+seemed to see the face of Timothy Smith. Then her heart gave a bound as
+she saw, leaning against the wicket-gate of the village inn, three
+men--two with the most villainous faces she had ever seen, and the third
+bore the face of the man that Fanny had described as the pedlar. She was
+not mistaken, then, when she thought they would make this their
+headquarters.
+
+She drew bridle as she neared the inn. Her quick brain saw the necessity
+of it, if but to explain her presence there.
+
+"Will you be so good as to ask the landlady to come out to me?" she
+asked, with a gracious smile--the smile that the villagers always said
+was "Miss Patty's own."
+
+The pedlar lifted his cap with the same air that Fanny had so accurately
+described, and himself undertook to go upon the mission.
+
+"Bless you, Miss Patty," exclaimed the buxom landlady as she came out,
+curtseying and smiling, followed in a leisurely manner by the pedlar,
+"where be you a-ridin' that Black Bess be so hot and foam-like about the
+mouth?"
+
+Patty stooped forward and patted her horse's neck, fully aware that
+three pairs of ears at the wicket-gate were being strained to catch her
+answer.
+
+"It is too bad of me to ride her so fast, Mrs. Clark. The fact of the
+matter is I ought to be at Miss Price's this moment for tennis and tea,
+but I am late, and have been trying to make up for lost time. However, I
+must not breathe Black Bess too much, must I, or else I shall not be
+allowed to ride her again?" and Patty smiled her bewitching smile,
+which always captivated the heart of the landlady of the Roaring Lion.
+
+An order for supplies for the servants' cellar, given in a firm voice,
+justified her appearance in the village and satisfied the eager
+listeners as to the object of her visit, after which, with a nod and a
+smile, Patty rode onwards.
+
+Not till she was out of sight and hearing of the village did she urge
+Black Bess to the top of her bent, and they flew onwards like the wind.
+
+Thud, thud, thud went the horse's hoofs, keeping time to the beating of
+Patty's heart as she recalled again and again the villainous faces
+leaning over the wicket-gate.
+
+Even Black Bess seemed to realise the importance of her mission and it
+was not long before Patty's heart grew lighter as she caught sight not
+very far off of the spire of Trinity Church, and the turreted roof of
+the Town Hall of Frampton. Reaching the town she drew rein at Major
+Price's house, where, with bated breath, her story was received by the
+major and his two grown-up sons. A message was sent to the police
+station, and in a short while two burly sergeants of police presented
+themselves, to whom Patty repeated her tale.
+
+Arrangements were soon made. A surgeon was sent for and engaged to drive
+over with the police.
+
+"They rascals won't break in till darkness falls, miss," said one of the
+men. "But we'll start at once in a trap. Better be too early than too
+late."
+
+The Prices would not hear of Patty riding Black Bess back. They
+themselves would drive her home in the high dog-cart, and Black Bess
+would be left behind to forget her fatigue in Major Price's comfortable
+stables.
+
+Of course they didn't go the way that Patty had come. It would never
+have done to go through the village and meet those same ruffians, who
+would have understood the position in the twinkling of an eye. Instead,
+they took a roundabout way, which, although it took an extra half hour,
+brought them through the wood on the other side of Colonel Bingham's
+house.
+
+"It is lonely--too lonely a place," muttered Major Price, as the two
+conveyances swung round to the front of the house.
+
+"But it's lovely, and we love it," answered Patty softly.
+
+Then the door was opened cautiously by Sam, and behind him were the
+huddled figures of Mrs. Tucker, cook, and Fanny. What a sigh of relief
+ran through the assembly when the burly forms of the two policeman made
+their appearance in the hall! And tears of real thankfulness sprang to
+poor Fanny's eyes, whose red rims told their own tale.
+
+Poor Patty's heart beat painfully as she conducted the six men to the
+breakfast-room where the wounded coachman lay. She stood with averted
+face and eyes as they bent over him, twining and re-twining her fingers
+with nervous terror as she thought that it was her hand that had perhaps
+killed him.
+
+"Ah! this tells something," exclaimed one of the officers in uniform,
+detaching as he spoke a small whistle fastened round the neck of the man
+who lay all unconscious of that official attention. "This was to give
+the alarm when all in the house were asleep. We shall use this when the
+time comes to attract the men here."
+
+Beyond the discovery of the whistle, and a revolver, nothing more of
+importance was found, and all caught themselves wishing for the time for
+action to arrive.
+
+The surgeon dressed the man's wounds and declared him to be in no
+immediate danger, after which they carried him upstairs to a remote
+room, where it would be quite impossible for him to give any warning to
+his confederates, even if he should have the strength.
+
+The hour came at last when poor Patty felt worn out with suspense and
+fearful anxiety; came, when Mrs. Tucker and her two maids were strung up
+to an almost hysterical pitch of excitement; came, when Sam was
+beginning to look absolutely hollow-eyed with watching every movement of
+the police with admiring yet fearful glances.
+
+It was twelve o'clock. The grandfather's clock on the stairs had struck
+the hour in company with several silvery chimes about the house, making
+music when all else was still as death.
+
+Up to that time the sky had been dark and lowering, causing darkness to
+reign supreme, till the full moon, suddenly emerging from the heavy
+flying clouds, lighted up the house and its surroundings with its
+refulgent beams. Then suddenly throughout the silent night there rang
+forth a low, soft, piercing whistle. Only once it sounded, and then dead
+silence fell again. The wounded man started in his bed, but he could not
+raise his hand, and the whistle was gone.
+
+The eyes of the women watchers looked at each other with faces weary and
+worn with anxiety and fear.
+
+Then another sound broke the stillness. Another whistle--an answering
+call to the one that had rung forth before! It had the effect of
+startling every one in the house, for it came from under the very window
+of the room in which they were gathered.
+
+With an upraised finger, cautioning silence, the sergeant stepped to the
+window and raised it softly.
+
+"Hist!" he said in a thrilling whisper, without showing himself, "the
+lib'ry winder."
+
+He softly closed the casement again, having discerned in that brief
+moment the moonlit shadows of three men lying athwart the lawn.
+
+In stockinged feet the five men slid noiselessly into the library where
+the Venetians had been so lowered as to prevent the silvery moonrays
+from penetrating into the room. Placing the three gentlemen in
+convenient places should their assistance be needed, one of the men in
+uniform pushed aside the French window which he had previously
+unfastened to be in readiness.
+
+"Hist! softly there," he growled; "the swag is ours."
+
+With a barely concealed grunt of satisfaction the window was pushed
+farther open, and the forms of three men made their way into the room.
+
+With lightning-like celerity the arms of the first man were pinioned,
+and when the others turned to fly they found their egress cut off by the
+three Prices, who stood pointing menacing revolvers at them.
+
+"The game's up!" growled the sham pedlar. "Who blabbed?"
+
+"Not Timothy Smith," said the elder sergeant lightly, as he adroitly
+fastened the handcuffs on his man.
+
+"What's come of him?"
+
+"He's in bed, as all decent people ought to be at this time o'night,"
+and the sergeant laughed at his own wit.
+
+The police carried their men off in triumph in the trap, and the wiry
+little pony, rejoiced to find his head turned homewards, trotted on
+right merrily, requiring neither whip nor word to urge him on to express
+speed, in total ignorance of the vindictive feelings that animated the
+breasts of three at least of the men seated behind him.
+
+Major Price and his two sons remained till the morning, for Patty had
+broken down when all was over, and then a telegram summoned Colonel
+Bingham to return.
+
+"I am not exactly surprised," he said at length, when he had heard the
+story; "something like this was bound to occur one day or other, and I
+cannot be too thankful that nothing has happened to injure my dear brave
+girl, or any of the household. Patty, I have felt so convinced of
+something dreadful happening during one of my unavoidable absences from
+home that I have made arrangements with an old friend of mine in town to
+lease this place to him for three years."
+
+"And when does he come?" asked Patty breathlessly.
+
+"Next month. He is going to make it a fishing- and shooting-box, and
+have bachelor friends to stay with him. So, my dear, we all clear out in
+a month's time."
+
+Patty gave a long-drawn sigh. Her father did not know whether it was one
+of pleasure or regret.
+
+"We can come back if we like after the three years," he whispered.
+
+"I am glad we are going just now," she whispered back. "That pedlar's
+eyes haunt me, and they are all desperate men."
+
+These words were sufficient to make Colonel Bingham hurry on his
+arrangements, so that before three weeks were over he and his whole
+household were on their way to their new home.
+
+As they got out of the train Colonel Bingham turned to Patty. "You and I
+will drive to Lady Glendower's, where we shall stay the night."
+
+"Oh, dad, darling dad, don't take me there. Aunt Glendower won't like a
+hoyden to visit her."
+
+"She will like to welcome a brave girl," answered her father quietly.
+
+But as Patty still shrank away from the thought he added:
+
+"I have told her all that has happened, and she herself wrote asking me
+to bring you, and I promised I would."
+
+Rose met her with soft, clinging kisses, and then Lady Glendower folded
+her in an embrace such as Patty had not thought her capable of giving.
+
+"I am proud of my brave niece," she whispered. "Patty, go upstairs with
+Rose, and get Céline to measure you for your ball-dress. I am going to
+give another ball next month, and you are to be the heroine."
+
+Under skilful treatment Timothy Smith recovered his usual health, though
+the injury to his hand and knee made him a cripple for the rest of his
+life. The trial was another terrible experience for Patty, and Fanny
+thought she would have died when she saw the prisoners stand forward in
+the dock to receive sentence. "Five years' penal servitude," said the
+judge, and Patty sometimes shudders to think that the five years are
+nearly up.
+
+
+
+
+THE UNBIDDEN GUEST.
+
+BY F. B. FORESTER.
+
+
+"No, sir," the old keeper said reflectively. "I don't know no ghost
+stories; none as you'd care to hear, that is. But I could tell you of
+something that happened in these parts once, and it was as strange a
+thing as any ghost story I ever heard tell on."
+
+I had spent the morning on the moor, grouse shooting, and mid-day had
+brought me for an hour's welcome rest to the lonely cottage, where the
+old superannuated keeper, father to the stalwart velvet-jacketed
+Hercules who had acted as my guide throughout the forenoon, lived from
+year's end to year's end with his son and half-a-dozen dogs for company.
+The level beams of the glowing August sun bathed in a golden glow the
+miles of purple moorland lying round us; air and scenery were good to
+breathe and to look on; and now, as the three of us sat on a turf seat
+outside the cottage door enjoying the soft sleepy inaction of the
+afternoon, a question of mine concerning the folk-lore of the district,
+after which, hardened materialist though I called myself, I was
+conscious of a secret hankering, had drawn the foregoing remark from the
+patriarchal lips.
+
+"Let's hear it, by all means," said I, lighting my pipe and settling
+myself preparatory to listening. A slight grunt, resembling a stifled
+laugh, came from Ben the keeper.
+
+"You'll have to mind, sir," he put in, a twinkle in his eye. "Dad
+believes what he's agoing to tell you, every word of it. It's gospel
+truth to him."
+
+"Ay, that I do," responded the old man warmly. "And why shouldn't I?
+Didn't I see it with my own eyes? And seein's believin', ain't it?"
+
+"You arouse my curiosity," I said. "Let us have the story by all means,
+and if it is a personal experience, so much the better."
+
+"Well, sir," began the old man, evidently gratified by these signs of
+interest, and casting a triumphant glance at his son, "what I've got to
+tell you don't belong to this time of day, of course. When I says I was
+a little chap of six years old or thereabouts, and that I'll be
+eighty-five come Michaelmas, you'll understand that it must have been a
+tidy sight of years ago.
+
+"Father, he was keeper on these moors here, same as his son's been after
+him, and as _his_ son"--with a glance of fatherly pride at the stalwart
+young fellow beside him--"is now, and will be for many years to come,
+please God. Him and mother and me, the three of us, lived together in
+just such another cottage as this one, across t'other side of the moor,
+out Farnington way. The railway runs past there now, over the very place
+the cottage stood on, I believe; but no one so much as dreamt o'
+railways, time I talk on. Not a road was near, and all around there was
+nothin' but the moors stretching away for miles, all purple ling and
+heather, with not a living soul nearer than Wharton, and that was a good
+twelve miles away. It was pretty lonely for mother, o' course, during
+the day; but she was a brave woman, and when dad come home at night,
+never a word would she let on to tell him how right down scared she got
+at times and how mortally sick she felt of hearing the sound of her own
+voice.
+
+"'Been pretty quiet for you, Polly?' dad would say at night sometimes,
+when the three of us would be sitting round the fire, with the flame
+dancing and shining on the wall and making black shadows in all the
+corners.
+
+"'Ye-es, so, so,' mother would answer, kind of grudging like, and then
+she'd start telling him what she'd been about all day, or something as
+I'd said or done, so as to turn his attention, you see, sir. And as a
+woman can gen'rally lead a man off on whatever trail she likes to get
+his nose on dad would never think no more about it; and as for mother
+and me being that lonely, when he and the dogs were all away, why, I
+don't suppose the thought of it ever entered his head. So, what with her
+never complaining, and that, dad grew easier in his mind, and once or
+twice, when he'd be away at the Castle late in the afternoon, he'd even
+stay there overnight.
+
+"Well, sir, one day when dad comes home to get his dinner he tells
+mother as how there's a lot of gentlemen come down from London for the
+shooting, and as he'd got orders to be on hand bright and early next
+morning,--the meaning of that being that he'd have to spend the night at
+the Castle. Mother didn't say much; 'twasn't her way to carry on when
+she knew a thing couldn't be helped, and dad went on talking.
+
+"'To-morrow's quarter-day, Polly, and you've got our rent all right for
+the agent when he comes. Put this along wi' it, lass, it's Tom Regan's,
+and he's asked me to hand it over for him and save the miles of
+walking.'
+
+"I don't know what come to mother, whether something warned her, or
+what, but she give a sort of jump as dad spoke.
+
+"'Oh, Jim,' says she, all in a twitter, 'you're never going to leave all
+that money here, and you away, and the child and me all alone. Can't
+you--can't you leave one of the dogs?'
+
+"Dad stared at her. 'No,' he says, 'I can't, more's the pity. They're
+all wanted to-morrow, and I've sent them on to the Castle. Why, Polly,
+lass, what's come to you? I've never known you take on like this
+before.'
+
+"Then mother, seeing how troubled and uneasy he looked, plucked up heart
+and told him, trying to laugh, never to mind her--she had only been
+feeling a bit low, and it made her timid like. But dad didn't laugh in
+answer, only said very grave that if he'd ha' known she felt that way,
+he'd have took good care she wasn't ever left alone overnight. This
+should be the last time, he'd see to that, and anyhow he'd take the
+rent money with him and wouldn't leave it to trouble her. Then he kissed
+her, and kissed me, and went off, striding away over the moors towards
+Farnington--the sunset way I called it, 'cause the sun set over there;
+and I can see him big and tall like Ben here, moving away among the
+heather till we lost him at the dip of the moor. And I mind how, just
+before we saw no more of him, he pulled up and looked back, as if
+mother's words stuck to him, somehow, and he couldn't get them out of
+his mind.
+
+"Mother seemed queer and anxious all that afternoon. Long before dusk
+she called me in from playing in the bit of garden in front of the door,
+and shut and barred it closely, not so much as letting me stand outside
+to watch the sunset, as I always liked to do. It was getting dark
+already, the shadows had begun to fall black and gloomy all round the
+cottage, and the fire was sending queer dancing gleams flickering up the
+wall, when I hears a queer, scratching, whining noise at the door.
+
+"Mother was putting out the tea-cups, and she didn't hear it at first.
+But I, sitting in front of the fire, heard it well enough, and I tumbled
+off my stool and ran to the door to get it open, for I thought I knew
+what it was. But mother had pulled the bar across at the top and I
+couldn't stir it.
+
+"'There's something at the door that wants to come in,' I says, pulling
+at it.
+
+"'There ain't nothing of the sort,' says mother shortly, and goes on
+putting out the tea. 'Let the door alone.'
+
+"'Yes, there is,' I says. 'It's a dog. It's Nip, or Juno,' meaning the
+brace of pointers that dad had usually in the kennels outside.
+
+"Then mother, thinking that perhaps dad had found that one of the dogs
+could be spared after all, and had told it to go home, went to the door
+and opened it. I had been right and wrong too, for on the doorstep there
+was a large black dog.
+
+"My word! but he was a beautiful creature, sir, the finest dog I ever
+set eyes on. Like a setter in the make of him, but no setter that ever
+I saw could match him for size or looks. His coat was jet-black, as
+glossy as the skin of a thoroughbred, with just one streak of white
+showing down the breast, and his eyes--well, they were the very
+humanest, sir, that ever I see looking out of a dog's face.
+
+"Now mother, although she had expected to find a dog outside, hadn't
+dreamt of anything except one of ourn, and she made like to shut the
+door on him. But the creature was too quick for her. He had pushed his
+head through before she knew it, and she scarcely saw how, or even felt
+the door press against her when he had slipped past and was in the room.
+
+"Mother was used to dogs, and hadn't no fear of them, but she didn't
+altogether like strange ones, you see, sir, me being such a child and
+all; and her first thought was to put the creature out. So she pulled
+the door wide open and pointed to it, stamping her foot and saying, 'Be
+off! Go-home.'
+
+"It was all very well to say that, but the dog wouldn't go. Not a step
+would he budge, but only stood there, wagging his tail and looking at
+her with them beautiful eyes of his, as were the biggest and
+beautifullest and softest I ever see in dog before or since. She took up
+a stick then, but his eyes were that imploring that she hadn't the heart
+to use it; and at last, for the odd kind of uneasiness that had hung
+about her ever since dad had gone was on her still, and the dog was a
+dog and meant protection whatever else it might be, she shut the door,
+barred it across, and said to me that we would let it stop.
+
+"I was delighted, of course, and wanted to make friends at once; but the
+queer thing was that the dog wouldn't let me touch him. He ran round
+under the table and lay down in a corner of the room, looking at me with
+his big soft eyes and wagging his tail, but never coming no nearer.
+Mother put down some water, and he lapped a little, but he only sniffed
+at a bone she threw him and didn't touch it.
+
+"It was quite dark by this time, and mother lit a candle and set it on
+the table to see to have tea by. Afterwards she took her knitting and
+sat down by the fire, and I leaned against her, nodding and half asleep.
+The dog lay in the corner farthest from us, between the fireplace and
+the wall; and I'd forgotten altogether about him, when mother looks up
+sudden. 'Bless me,' says she, 'how bright the fire do catch the wall
+to-night. I haven't dropped a spark over there, surely!' And up she gets
+and crosses over to t'other side to where the firelight was dancing and
+flickering on the cottage wall.
+
+"Now, sir, whether it was no more than just the light catching them,
+mind you, I can't say. I only know that as mother come to the corner
+where that dog was a-lying, and he lifted his head and looked at her,
+his eyes were a-shining with a queer lamping sort of light, that seemed
+to make the place bright all round him. But it wasn't till afterwards
+that she thought of it, for at that moment there came a sudden sharp
+knock at the door.
+
+"My eye! how mother jumped; and I see her face turn white. For in that
+lonely out-of-the-way place we never looked for visitors after dark, nor
+in the day time, many of 'em; and the sound of this knock now give her
+quite a turn. Presently there come a faint voice from outside, asking
+for a crust of bread.
+
+"Mother didn't stir for a moment, for the notion of unbarring the door
+went against her. The knock come a second time.
+
+"'For pity's sake--for the sake of the child,' the voice said again,
+pleading like.
+
+"Now, mother was terrible soft-hearted, sir, wherever children were
+concerned, and the mention of a child went straight home to her heart. I
+see her glance at me, and I knowed the thought passing through her mind,
+as after a moment's pause she got up, stepped across the room and
+unbarred the door. On the step outside stood a woman with a baby in her
+arms.
+
+"Her voice had sounded faint-like, but there was nothing in the
+fainting line about her when she had got inside, for she come inside
+quick enough the moment mother had unbarred the door. She looked like a
+gipsy, for her face was dark and swarthy, and the shawl round her head
+hid a'most all but the wild gleam of her eyes; and all the time she kep'
+on rock, rocking that child in her arms until I reckon she must have
+rocked all the crying out of it, for never a word come from its lips.
+She sat down where mother pointed, and took the food she was given, but
+she offered nothing to the child. It was asleep, she said, when mother
+wanted to look at it.
+
+"Yes, she was a gipsy, and on the tramp across the moor she had missed
+her way in the fog; for there was a heavy fog coming up. 'How far was it
+to Farnington? Twelve miles? She'd be thankful to sit and rest by the
+fire a bit, then, if mother would let her.' And without waiting for yes
+or no, she turned round and put the child out of her arms down on the
+settle at her back. Then she swung round again and sat staring with her
+black eyes at the fire. I was sat on my stool opposite, and, child-like,
+I never so much as took my eyes off her, wondering at her gaunt make,
+the big feet in the clumsy men's boots that showed beneath her skirts,
+and the lean powerful hands lying in her lap. Seems she didn't
+altogether like me watching her, for after a bit she turns on me and
+asks:
+
+"'What are you staring at, you brat?'
+
+"'Nothin',' says I.
+
+"'Then if you wants to look at nothin',' says she with a short laugh,
+'you can go and stare at the kiddy there, not at me.' And she jerked her
+head towards the settle, where the baby was a-lying.
+
+"'Ah, poor little thing,' says mother, getting up, 'it don't seem
+natural for it to lie there that quiet. I'll bring it to the fire and
+warm it a drop o' milk.'
+
+"She bent down over the baby and was just about to take it in her arms,
+when she give a scream that startled me off my stool, and stood up, her
+face as white as death. For it was nothing but a shawl or two rolled
+round something stiff and heavy as was lying on the settle, and no child
+at all.
+
+"I was a-looking at mother, and I had no eyes for the woman until I see
+mother's face change and an awful look of fear come over it. And when I
+turned to see what she was staring at with them wild eyes, the woman had
+flung off her shawl and the wrap she wore round her head, and was stood
+up with a horrid, mocking smile on his face. For it was no woman, sir,
+as you'll have guessed, but a man.
+
+"'Well, mistress,' he says, coming forward a pace or two, 'I didn't mean
+to let the cat out of the bag so soon; but what's done's done. There's a
+little trifle of rent-money put by for the agent, as I've taken a fancy
+to; and that's what's brought me here. If you hand it over quietly, so
+much the better for you; if not.... I'm not one to stick at trifles;
+I've come for that money, and have it I will.'
+
+"'I have not got it,' mother said, plucking up what heart she could, and
+speaking through her white and trembling lips.
+
+"'That don't go down with me,' said the fellow with an oath. 'I didn't
+sleep under the lee of Tom Regan's hayrick for nothin' last night, and I
+heard every word that was spoken between him and your Jim. You'd better
+tell me where you've got it stowed, or you'll be sorry for it. You're a
+woman, mind you, and alone.'
+
+"Mother's lips went whiter than ever, but she said never a word. I had
+begun to cry.
+
+"'Hold your row, you snivelling brat,' the fellow said with a curse.
+'Come, mistress, you'd best not try my patience too long.'
+
+"Now, mother was a brave woman, as I've said, and I don't believe, if
+the money had been left in her charge, as she'd have given it up tamely
+and without so much as a word. But of course, as things were, she could
+do no more than say, over and over again, as she hadn't got it. Then the
+brute began to threaten her, with threats that made her blood run cold;
+for she was only a woman, sir, and alone, except for me, a child as
+could do nothing in the way of help. With a last horrid threat on his
+lips the fellow turned towards the settle--there was a pistol hid in the
+clothes of the sham baby we found out afterwards--when he was stopped by
+something as come soft and noiseless out of the corner beyond and got
+right in his way. I see what it was after a minute. Between him and the
+settle where the pistol was lying there was standing that dog.
+
+"The creature had showed neither sight nor sound of itself since the
+woman had come in, and we'd forgotten about it altogether, mother and
+me. There it stood now, though, still as a stone, but all on the watch,
+the lips drawn back from the sharp white teeth, and its eyes fixed, with
+a savage gleam in them, on the fellow's face. I was nothing but a child,
+and no thought of anything beyond had come to me then; but I tell you,
+sir, child as I was, I couldn't help feeling that the grin on the
+creature's face had something more than dog-like in it; and for nights
+to come I couldn't get the thought of it out of my head.
+
+"Our visitor looked a bit took aback when he saw the creature, for most
+of his sort are terrible feared of a dog. But 'twas only for a moment,
+and then he laughed right out.
+
+"'He's an ugly customer, but he won't help you much, mistress,' he said
+with a sneer. 'I've something here as'll settle _him_ fast enough.' With
+that he stretched out his hand towards the bundle on the settle.
+
+"The hand never reached it, sir. You know the choking, worrying snarl a
+dog gives before he springs to grip his enemy by the throat, the growl
+that means a movement--and death! That sound stopped the scoundrel, and
+kept him, unable to stir hand or foot, with the dog in front of him,
+never moving, never uttering a sound beyond that low threatening growl,
+but watching, only watching. He might have been armed with a dozen
+weapons, and it would have been all the same. Those sharp, bared fangs
+would have met in his throat before he could have gripped the pistol
+within a foot of his hand; and he knew it, and the knowledge kept him
+there still as a stone, with the dog never taking its watching, burning
+eyes from his face.
+
+"'I'm done,' he owned at last, when minutes that seemed like hours had
+gone by. 'I'm done this time, mistress, thanks to the dog-fiend you've
+got here. I tell you I'd not have stopped at murder when I come in; but
+that kid of yours could best me now. Make the devil brute take his eyes
+off me, and let me go.'
+
+"All trembling like a leaf, mother got to the door and drew back the
+bar. The fellow crossed the kitchen and slunk out, and the dog went with
+him. It followed him with its nose close at his knee as he crossed the
+threshold, and the two of them went like that, out into the fog and over
+the lonely moorland into the night. We never saw nor heard of the dog
+again.
+
+"There were gipsies in the neighbourhood, crossing the moor out Wharton
+way, and when the story got about folk told us as 'twas known they had
+some strange-looking dogs with them, and said that this one must have
+belonged to the lot. But mother, she never believed in nothin' of the
+sort, and to the day of her death she would have it as the creature had
+been sent to guard her and me from the danger that was to come to us
+that night. She held that it was something more than a dog, sir; and you
+see there was one thing about it uncommon strange. When dad come back
+that next morning, our two pointers, Nip and Juno, followed him into the
+cottage. But the moment they got inside a sort of turn came over them,
+and they rushed out all queer and scared; while as for the water mother
+had set down for the black dog to drink, there was no getting them to
+put their lips to it. Not thirsty, sir? Well, sir, seeing as there
+warn't no water within six mile or so, and they'd come ten miles that
+morning over the moor, you'll excuse me saying you don't know much about
+dogs if you reckon they warn't thirsty!
+
+"Coincidence you say, sir? Well, I dunno the meaning of that--maybe
+it's a word you gentles gives to the things you can't explain. But I've
+told you the story just as it happened, and I'd swear it's true, anyhow.
+If a gentleman like you can't see daylight in it, t'ain't for the likes
+of me to try; but I sticks to it that, say what folks will, the thing
+was uncommon strange.... Not tried the west side, haven't you, sir?
+Bless your heart, Ben, what be you a-thinking of? The birds are as thick
+as blackberries down by the Grey Rock and Deadman's Hollow."
+
+"That's a gruesome name," I said, rising and lifting my gun, while Ben
+coupled up the brace of dogs. I noticed a glance exchanged between
+father and son as the younger man lifted his head.
+
+"Yes, sir," responded the former quietly; "the morning after that night
+I've been telling you of, the body of a man was found down there, and
+that's how the hollow got its name. Mother, she knew him again the
+moment she set eyes on the dead face, for all he'd got quit of the
+woman's clothes; and there warn't no mark nor wound on him, to show how
+he'd come by his death. Oh, yes, sir; I ain't saying as the fog warn't
+thick that night, nor as how it wouldn't have been easy enough for him
+to ha' missed his footing in the dark; though to be sure there were
+folks as would have it 'twarn't _that_ as killed him.... Good-day to
+you, sir, and thank you kindly. Ben here'll see to your having good
+sport."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was vexing to find so much gross superstition still extant in this
+last decade of the nineteenth century, certainly. Yet for all that, and
+though the notion of a spook dog was something too much for the
+materialistic mind to swallow, there is no use denying that, as I stood
+an hour later in Deadman's Hollow, with the recollection of the weird
+story I had just heard fresh in my memory, I was conscious of a cold
+shiver, which all the strength of the August sunshine, bathing the
+moorland in a glow of gold, was quite unable to lessen or to drive
+away.
+
+
+
+
+THE WRECK OF THE _MAY QUEEN_.
+
+BY ALICE F. JACKSON.
+
+
+There was something in the air. Something ominous. A whisper of which we
+heard only the rustle, as it were--nothing of the words; but when one is
+on the bosom of the deep--hundreds of miles from land--in the middle of
+the Pacific Ocean--ominous whispers are, to say the least of it, a
+trifle disconcerting.
+
+"What is it?" whispered Sylvia.
+
+"I don't know," I said.
+
+"Anything wrong with the ship?"
+
+But I could only shrug my shoulders.
+
+Sylvia said, "Let us ask Dr. Atherton."
+
+So we did. But Dr. Atherton only smiled.
+
+"There was something behind that smile of his," said Sylvia,
+suspiciously. "As if we were babies, either of us," she added, severely.
+
+Yes, there was something suspicious in that smile. And Dr. Atherton
+hadn't looked at us full in the face while he talked. Besides, there was
+a sort of lurking pity in his voice; and--yes, I'm sure his lip had
+twitched a little nervously.
+
+"Why should he be nervous if there is nothing the matter with the ship?"
+
+"And why should he look as if he felt sorry for us?"
+
+"Let's ask the captain," I said.
+
+"Just leave the ship in my keeping, young ladies," said the captain,
+when we asked him. "Go back to your fancy-work and your books."
+
+The _May Queen_ was not a regular passenger ship. Sylvia, and I, and
+Dr. Atherton were the only passengers. She was laden with wool--a cargo
+boat; but Sylvia and I were accommodated with such a pretty cabin!
+
+We had left Sydney in the captain's charge. Father wanted us to have a
+year's schooling in England; and we were coming to Devonshire to live
+with Aunt Sabina, and get a little polishing at a finishing school.
+
+Of course we had chummed up with Dr. Atherton, though we had never met
+him before. One's obliged to be friendly with every one on board, you
+know; and then he was the only one there was to be friendly with. He was
+acting as the ship's surgeon for the voyage home. He was going to
+practise in England. He was, perhaps, twenty-five--not more than
+twenty-six, at any rate, and on the strength of that he began to
+constitute himself a sort of second guardian over us.
+
+We didn't object. He was very nice. And, indeed, he made the time pass
+very pleasantly for us.
+
+Sylvia was sixteen, and I was fifteen; and the grey-haired captain was
+the kindest chaperon.
+
+For the first fortnight we had the most delightful weather; and then it
+began to blow a horrid gale. The _May Queen_ pitched frightfully, and
+"took in," as the sailors said, "a deal of water."
+
+For three days the storm raged violently. We thought the ship would
+never weather it. I don't know what we should have done without Dr.
+Atherton. And then quite suddenly the wind died away, and there came a
+heavenly calm.
+
+The sea was like a mill-pond. It was beautiful! Sylvia and I began to
+breathe again, when, all at once, we felt that ominous something in the
+air.
+
+"Thud! thud! thud!" All day long we heard that curious sound--and at
+dead of night too, if we happened to be awake. "Thud! thud! thud!"
+unceasingly.
+
+The sailors, too, forgot their jocular sayings, and seemed too busy now
+to notice us. Some looked flurried, some looked sullen; but all looked
+anxious, we thought. And they were working, working, always working away
+at the bottom of the ship. And always that "thud! thud! thud!"
+
+And then we learned by accident what the matter was.
+
+"Five feet of water in the well!" It was the captain's voice.
+
+And Dr. Atherton's murmured something that we did not catch.
+
+We were in the cabin, and the door was just ajar. They thought we girls
+were up on deck, I suppose. Sylvia flung out her hand and pressed me on
+the arm; and then she put her finger on her lip.
+
+"All hands are at the pumps," the captain said. "Their exertions are
+counteracting the leak. The water in the well is neither more nor less.
+I've just been sounding it again."
+
+"Can't the leak be stopped?" asked Dr. Atherton.
+
+"Yes, if we could find it. We've been creeping about her ribs all the
+better part of the morning, but we cannot discover the leak."
+
+"And the water's still coming in?"
+
+"Still coming in. They're working like galley-slaves to keep it under,
+but we make no headway at all. I greatly fear that some of her seams
+have opened during the gale."
+
+"And that means----"
+
+"That means the water is coming in through numerous apertures," said the
+captain grimly.
+
+"Is the _May Queen_ in danger, captain?" asked Dr. Atherton in a steady
+voice.
+
+There was a pause. We could hear our own hearts beat. And then:
+
+"I would to Heaven that those girls were not on board!"
+
+"But we are!" It was Sylvia's voice. With a bound she had flung open the
+door, and stood confronting the astonished pair. "We are here. And as we
+are here, Captain Maitland, oh! don't, don't keep us in the dark!"
+
+"Good heavens!" ejaculated the doctor.
+
+And the captain said in his severest tones:
+
+"Young lady, you've been eavesdropping, I see. Let me tell you that's a
+thing I won't allow."
+
+"Oh! Captain Maitland, is the ship in danger?" I cried.
+
+But the captain only glared at me. He looked excessively annoyed.
+
+Then Sylvia ran up and put her hand upon his arm.
+
+"We could not help hearing," she said. "If the ship is in danger really,
+it is better for us to know. Please, don't be vexed with us; but we'd
+rather be told the truth. We--we----"
+
+"Are not babies," I put in, with my heart going pit-a-pat.
+
+"Nor cowards," added Sylvia, with a lip that trembled a little.
+
+It made the captain cough.
+
+"The--the _May Queen_ has sprung a leak?" she said.
+
+"You heard me say so, I suppose."
+
+"And the ship is in danger, Captain Maitland?"
+
+"Can you trust me, young lady?" was his answer.
+
+Sylvia put her hand in his.
+
+"You know we trust you," she said.
+
+He caught it in a hearty grasp; and gave me an encouraging smile.
+
+"Thank you for that, my child. The _May Queen's_ got five feet of water
+in her well, because she got damaged in that gale. So far we're managing
+to pump the water out as fast as the water comes in. D'you follow me?"
+
+"Yes," fluttered to her lips.
+
+"So far, so good. Don't worry. Try not to trouble your heads about this
+thing at all. Just say to yourselves, 'The captain's at the helm.' All
+that can be done _is_ being done, young ladies. And," pointing upwards,
+"the other CAPTAIN'S aloft."
+
+He was gone. In a dazed way I heard Dr. Atherton saying something to
+Sylvia. And a few minutes after that he, too, had disappeared. "Gone,"
+Sylvia said in an awe-struck whisper, "to work in his turn at the
+pumps."
+
+No need to wonder now at that unceasing "Thud! thud!" The noise of it
+not only sounded in our ears, it struck us like blows on our hearts.
+
+We crept up on deck. We could breathe there. We could see. Oh! how awful
+was the thought of going down, down--drowning in the cabin below!
+
+Air, and light, and God's sky was above. And we prayed to the CAPTAIN
+aloft.
+
+The sea was so calm that danger, after having weathered that fearful
+gale, seemed almost impossible to us. The blue water reflected the blue
+heaven above; and when the setting sun cast a rosy light over the sky,
+the sea caught the reflection as well.
+
+It was beautiful.
+
+"It doesn't seem so dangerous now, Sylvia," I whispered, "as it felt
+during the gale."
+
+"No," came through her colourless lips.
+
+"There's not a ripple on the sea," I said; "and if they keep on pumping
+the water out, we'll--we'll get to land in time."
+
+"Yes," she said, and held my hand a little tighter. After a while, "I
+wonder if we're very far from land."
+
+"Nine hundred miles, I think I heard Mr. Wheeler say." She shuddered.
+
+Mr. Wheeler was the first mate.
+
+I looked across the wild waste of water, and shuddered too. So calm--so
+endless!
+
+The men were working like galley-slaves down below, pumping turn and
+turn about, watch and watch. We saw the relieved gang come up bathed in
+perspiration. They were labouring for their lives, we knew.
+
+Now and again some sailor, passing by, would say:
+
+"Keep a good heart, little leddies," and look over his shoulder with a
+cheerful smile.
+
+It made us cheer up too.
+
+We heard one say they were pumping one hundred tons of water every hour
+out of the ship. It sounded appalling.
+
+In a little while a light breeze began to blow. "From the south-west,"
+somebody said it was.
+
+And then we heard the captain give an order about "making all sail" in
+the ship.
+
+Every man that could be spared from the pumps set about it directly; and
+soon great sails flew up flapping in the breeze, and the _May Queen_
+went flying before the wind.
+
+By-and-by Dr. Atherton came, and ordered us down to the saloon, and made
+us each drink a glass of wine. And then Mr. Wheeler joined us; and we
+sat down to supper just as we had done many a happy evening before--only
+that the captain didn't come to the table as usual, but had his supper
+carried away to him.
+
+We learned that the captain had altered the ship's course, and "put the
+_May Queen_ right before the wind," and that he was "steering for the
+nearest land."
+
+It comforted us.
+
+"We have gained a little on the leak," the first mate said. "Three
+inches!"
+
+"Only three inches!" we cried.
+
+"Three inches is a great victory," Mr. Wheeler replied. "I think it's
+the turn of the tide."
+
+"Thank God!" muttered Dr. Atherton.
+
+We lay down in our narrow berths still comforted, and slept like tops
+all night. I'm not sure that the doctor hadn't given us something to
+make us sleep when he gave us a drink, as he innocently said, "to settle
+and soothe our nerves."
+
+"Thud! thud! thud!" The ominous sound was in my ears the moment I opened
+my eyes, and all the terror of the preceding day came crowding into my
+mind.
+
+"Sara, are you awake?"
+
+"Yes, Sylvia."
+
+"Did you sleep?"
+
+"Like a top."
+
+"So did I."
+
+Yes, we had slept, and while we slept the sailors had worked all night.
+And all night long, like some poor haunted thing, the _May Queen_ had
+glided on.
+
+"Mr. Wheeler, has the water lessened in the well?"
+
+"Good-morning, Miss Redding," was his reply.
+
+His face was pale. Great beads of perspiration were rolling down his
+cheeks. He began to mop them with a damp handkerchief.
+
+At that moment Dr. Atherton came on the scene. "Good-morning, young
+ladies," he said.
+
+Such a slovenly-looking doctor! And we used to think him such a
+sprucely-got-up man. There was no collar round his neck, and his hair
+hung in damp strings on his forehead. And he had no coat on, not a
+waistcoat either, nor did he look a bit abashed.
+
+"Sleep well?" he said.
+
+Mr. Wheeler seized the opportunity to slink away.
+
+"_You_ haven't slept!" we cried.
+
+He didn't reply. His haggard face, the red rims round his tired eyes
+were answer enough.
+
+"You've been up all night?" said Sylvia calmly.
+
+I burst into a whimpering wail.
+
+"No, don't, Miss Sara," urged the doctor soothingly.
+
+Sylvia said, "Has more water come into the ship?"
+
+"The water has gained on us a trifle," he said reluctantly.
+
+"But Mr. Wheeler said we'd gained three inches yesterday."
+
+"Go back into your cabin," he said. "Some breakfast will be sent to you
+there directly. We--we are not fit to breakfast with ladies this
+morning," he added.
+
+"Oh! not to the cabin. Please let us go on deck."
+
+"The captain's orders were the cabin," he said. "Hush, hush! Don't cry
+any more, Miss Sara," patting my shoulder, "there's a good girl. It
+would worry the captain dreadfully to hear you. His chief anxiety is
+having you on board. You wouldn't make his anxiety greater, would you
+now? See, Miss Sylvia, I rely on you. Take her to the cabin, and eat
+your breakfast there. After breakfast," he added soothingly, "I daresay
+you will be allowed to go on deck."
+
+We went back. We sat huddled together. We held each other's hands.
+Sylvia didn't cry. Her face was white. Her eyes were shining. "Don't,
+Sara," she kept on saying, "crying can do no good."
+
+Breakfast came. Neither of us ate much. How callously we sent the
+greater part of it away! Afterwards we remembered it. At present we
+could think of nothing but the leaking ship.
+
+And "Thud! thud! thud!" It was like the heart of the _May Queen_,
+beating, beating! How long would it take to burst?
+
+After breakfast we were allowed to go on deck. Oh! how the brilliant
+sunshine seemed to mock us there! And such a sea! Blue, beautiful,
+peaceful, smiling! A vast mill-pond. And water, water everywhere!
+
+Sea and sky! Nothing but sea and sky! And not a little, littlest speck
+of Mother Earth!
+
+"Mr. Wheeler, are we nearer land?"
+
+"A little nearer, Miss Sylvia."
+
+"How much nearer?"
+
+"She's run two hundred and fifty miles," he said.
+
+"Two hundred and fifty miles! And yesterday we were nearly a thousand
+miles from land!"
+
+"Yes, Miss Sara."
+
+I could have screamed. It was sheer despair that kept me silent--perhaps
+a little shame. Sylvia stood beside him with her hands clenched tight.
+
+"Isn't there any likelihood of some ship passing by?"
+
+"Every likelihood," he said.
+
+At that moment the relieved gang came up. They were changed. Not the
+brave hopeful men we had seen yesterday. They were disheartened. Indeed,
+we read despair in many faces.
+
+One big burly fellow lighted a pipe. He gave a puff or two. "No use
+pumping this darned ship," he said. "She's doomed."
+
+And as if to corroborate this awful fact a voice sang out:
+
+"Seven feet o' water in the hold!"
+
+This announcement seemed to demoralise the sailors. One burst out
+crying. Another cursed and swore. Others ran in a flurried way about the
+ship. For ten minutes or so all was confusion. And then a stentorian
+voice rose above the din.
+
+"All hands to the boats!" It was the captain's. And immediately every
+man came scrambling from the pumps, and I felt my hand taken in an iron
+grasp.
+
+"We're going to abandon the ship. We're going to take to the boats. Come
+down to your cabin and gather all you value. Be quick about it," said
+the doctor, "there isn't much time to spare. They're going to provision
+the boats before they lower them, so you can pack up all you want."
+
+He spoke roughly. He pushed me along in front of him. I was so
+dumfounded that I could not resent it. Down in the cabin he looked at
+me. His stern eye dared me to faint.
+
+I heard Sylvia say, "Can we take that little box?"
+
+And I heard him answer, "Yes."
+
+He was gone. I saw Sylvia, through a mist, pushing things into the box.
+And the doctor was back again.
+
+A fiery something was in my mouth, and trickling down my throat. I
+tasted brandy.
+
+"That's better," said the doctor, patting my back. "Make haste and help
+your sister. Yes, Miss Sylvia, shove it all in." And then he began to
+drag the blankets from our berths.
+
+"The leddies ready? Leddies fust!" And down tumbled a sailor for the
+trunk.
+
+Up the companion-ladder for the last time, the doctor prodding me in the
+back with his load of blankets. Sylvia, with a white face, carrying a
+little hand-bag. And the captain coming to meet us in the doorway.
+
+"This one first." And I was picked up in his arms as if I'd been a baby.
+"Ready, Wheeler?" And I was lowered into the first mate's arms, and
+placed on a seat in the cutter.
+
+The next thing I knew was that Sylvia was by my side; and that the
+doctor was tucking a blanket about our knees. After that four or five
+sailors jumped into the boat, and the captain shouted in a frantic
+hurry:
+
+"Shove her off!"
+
+The cutter fell astern. The long-boat then came forward, and all the
+rest of the sailors crowded in. The captain was left the last.
+
+"Hurry up, sir!" shouted Mr. Wheeler. But the captain had disappeared.
+He had run down to his cabin for some papers.
+
+"She's full of water!" cried one of the sailors in the long boat. And as
+he spoke the _May Queen stopped dead, and shook_.
+
+With a yell one of the men cut the rope that held the long-boat to the
+ship, and shoved off like lightning from the sinking vessel.
+
+Only in time.
+
+The next moment the _May Queen_ pitched gently forward. Her bows went
+under water.
+
+"Captain!" shrieked the sailors in a deafening chorus.
+
+Then her stern settled down. The sea parted in a great gulf. The waves
+rolled over her upper deck. And with her sails all spread the _May
+Queen_ went down into the abyss.
+
+A hoarse cry burst from every throat; and the boats danced on the
+bubbling, foaming water. The sailors stood up all ready to save him,
+crying to each other that he'd come to the surface soon. But he never
+did.
+
+They rowed all round and round the spot, but not a vestige of the
+captain did we see.
+
+"Sucked under--by Heaven!" cried the first mate in a tone of horror.
+
+And we were adrift on the Pacific.
+
+
+
+
+ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC.
+
+BY ALICE F. JACKSON.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+The captain was drowned, and the _May Queen_ was wrecked, and we were
+adrift on the ocean. Adrift in a cockle-shell of an open boat more than
+six hundred miles from land! No--_no_! It's some horrible nightmare!
+
+For the first few moments everybody sat benumbed, staring awe-struck
+into each other's faces.
+
+Then--"Christ have mercy on his soul!" somebody said.
+
+And, "Amen!" came the answer in a deep whisper.
+
+Then Mr. Wheeler gave some order in a voice that shook, and we rowed
+from the fatal spot.
+
+Sylvia sat with one hand covering her face. Her other arm crept round my
+waist. I was so dazed I could hardly think--too bewildered to grasp what
+had happened.
+
+"Poor child!" said Dr. Atherton.
+
+"Sara, Dr. Atherton is speaking to you ... Sara!"
+
+I raised my head.
+
+"Poor child!" I heard again. "Sit up and drink this," said the doctor's
+voice, and I felt him chafing my hand.
+
+"Miss Sara, won't you try to be brave? Look at Miss Sylvia," he said.
+
+"She be a rare plucked 'un, she be. Cheer up, you poor little 'un!"
+
+"While there is life, there's 'ope, little miss. Thank the Lord, we're
+not all on us drowned."
+
+I burst into tears, I was ashamed that I did; but it was oh! such a
+relief to cry.
+
+When I came to myself they were talking together. I heard in a stupefied
+way.
+
+"No immediate peril, thank God."
+
+"Not in calm weather like this."
+
+"Two chances for life--she must either make land, or be picked up by
+some vessel at sea."
+
+"... Beautifully still it is, Miss Sylvia. Might have been shipwrecked
+in a storm, you know."
+
+It came to my confused senses that they were very good--these men; for
+they, too, were in peril of their lives; yet the chief anxiety of one
+and all was to calm mine and Sylvia's fears.
+
+Another blanket was passed up for us to sit upon. And then they started
+an earnest consultation among themselves.
+
+There were four sailors in our boat. Gilliland--the big, burly fellow
+who had lighted his pipe--and Evans, and Hookway, and Davis. Dr.
+Atherton and the first mate made six; and Sylvia and I made eight.
+
+The long-boat was a good deal bigger than the cutter; and she held
+eighteen to twenty men.
+
+We gathered from their talk that the _May Queen_, after Captain Maitland
+had altered her course, had run two hundred and fifty miles out of what
+they termed "the track of trade"; and that unless we got back to the old
+track again, there was small chance of our being picked up by another
+vessel.
+
+On the other hand, to make for the nearest land, we would have to
+traverse the ocean for some six hundred miles, and Mr. Wheeler, it
+seemed, was hesitating as to which course to take.
+
+The men in the long-boat bawled to the men in the cutter, and the men in
+the cutter shouted their answers back, the upshot of which was that Mr.
+Wheeler decided to get back into the track of trade.
+
+"Make all sail," he shouted to the men in the long-boat, "and keep her
+head nor' east."
+
+And, "Ay, ay, sir," came the answer over the water.
+
+The men in the cutter ran up the sails too, and soon we were sailing
+after the long-boat. The longboat, however, sailed much faster than the
+cutter. Sometimes she lowered her sails on purpose to wait for us.
+
+The weather was perfect. The sea was beautiful. In the middle of the
+Pacific Ocean, and hardly a ripple on the waves!
+
+"We could hold out for weeks in weather like this!" cried the doctor
+cheerfully. And then to Gilliland:
+
+"The boats are well provisioned, you say?"
+
+"A month's provisions on board, sir. That was the captain's orders. Me
+and Hookway had the doing of it."
+
+"And water?" asked the doctor anxiously.
+
+"Plenty of water, and rum likewise," replied the sailor, with an
+affectionate glance at one of the little barrels.
+
+"I see only two small casks here," said the doctor sharply.
+
+"Plenty more on board the long-boat. Ain't there, Hookway?"
+
+"Plenty more, sir. The long-boat can stow away a deal more than the
+cutter. When we've got through this keg of spirit," putting his hand on
+one of the little casks, "and drunk up that there barrel of water, we've
+only got to signal the long-boat, and get another barrel out of her."
+
+"The food is on the long-boat, too, I suppose?"
+
+"Right you are, sir. And here's a lump o' corned beef. And here's a loaf
+o' bread. And likewise a bag o' biscuit for present requirements."
+
+"Humph!" said the doctor, "I'm glad of that. Hand me up that loaf,
+Davis, if you please. Mr. Wheeler, the spirits, of course, are in your
+charge. May I ask you to mix a small mug of rum and water for these
+ladies?"
+
+"Oh! I couldn't drink rum, doctor," objected Sylvia.
+
+"Oh! yes, you can. And you're going to eat this sandwich of corned beef
+and bread. Excuse fingers, Miss Sara," he added, handing me a sandwich
+between his finger and thumb. "Fingers were made before knives and
+forks. And now you're to share this mug of rum and water."
+
+"It's very weak, I assure you," said Mr. Wheeler, smiling. "Drink up
+every drop of it," he added kindly. "It will do you both good."
+
+We thanked him and obeyed. And while we ate our sandwiches the men ate
+biscuit and beef; and then Mr. Wheeler poured them out a small allowance
+of rum.
+
+The cutter sailed smoothly. And the men told yarns. But every eye was on
+the look-out for the smoke of some passing ship.
+
+We saw none. Not a speck on the ocean, save the long-boat ahead. And
+by-and-by the sun set, and a little fog crept up. And the night came on
+as black as pitch and very drear.
+
+Sylvia and I huddled close in the blanket that Dr. Atherton had tied
+about our shoulders; and whispered our prayers together.
+
+"To-morrow will be Sunday, Sylvia," I said.
+
+And she whispered back: "They will pray for those that travel by water
+in the Litany."
+
+
+II.
+
+
+I couldn't sleep. Every time I began to lose consciousness I started up
+in a fright, and saw the _May Queen_ going down into the sea again; and
+fancied I saw the captain struggling in the cabin. It was terrible.
+
+I could hear the men snoring peacefully in the boat. They were all
+asleep except the helmsman.
+
+At midnight he roused up another man to take his place; and after that I
+remembered no more till I started up in the grey dawn with a loud
+"Ahoy!" quivering in my ears.
+
+"Ahoy! A-hoy!"
+
+Everybody was wide awake. Everybody wanted to know what the matter was.
+And everybody was looking at the helmsman who was peering out at sea.
+
+It was Gilliland. He turned a strange, scared face to the others in the
+cutter, and:--"_The long-boat's not in sight!_" said he.
+
+Somebody let out an oath. And every eye stared wildly over the sea. It
+was quite true. Not a speck, not a streak we saw upon the ocean--the
+long-boat had disappeared!
+
+"God in heaven!" ejaculated the first mate. "She must have capsized in
+the night!"
+
+"And if we don't capsize, we'll starve," said the doctor, "_for she had
+all our provisions on board_!"
+
+There was an awful silence for just three minutes. Then the man who had
+sworn before shot out another oath. Hookway began to rave like a madman.
+Evans burst into sobs. Davis began to swear horribly, and cursed
+Gilliland for putting the provisions in the other boat.
+
+It was terrible.
+
+Suddenly Sylvia's voice rose trembling above the babel, quaveringly she
+struck up the refrain of the sailor's hymn:
+
+    _"O hear us when we cry to Thee_
+    _For those in peril on the sea."_
+
+"God bless you, miss!" cried Gilliland. And taking up the tune, he
+dashed into the first verse:
+
+    _"Eternal Father, strong to save,_
+    _Whose arm hath bound the restless wave._
+    _Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep_
+    _Its own appointed limits keep:"_
+
+The doctor and the first mate joined in the refrain. And Hookway ceased
+to rave. They sang the hymn right through. The last verse was sung by
+every one. The "_Amen_" went up like a prayer at the end. And the
+sailors, with their caps in their hands, some of them with tears in
+their eyes, looked gratefully at Sylvia and murmured, "Thank you, miss."
+
+Oh! the days that followed, and the long, hungry nights! Even now I
+dream of them, and start up trembling in my sleep.
+
+Sylvia and I have very tender hearts when we hear of the starving poor.
+
+To be hungry--oh! it is terrible. But to be thirsty too! And to feel
+that one is dying of thirst--and water everywhere!
+
+For those first dreadful days Mr. Wheeler dealt out half a biscuit to
+each--half a biscuit with a morsel of beef that had to be breakfast, and
+dinner, and tea! And just a little half mug of water tinctured with a
+drop of rum!
+
+And on that we lived, eight people in the cutter, for something like
+eleven days! Eleven days in a scorching sun! Eleven calm, horrible
+nights!
+
+We wanted a breeze. And no breeze came, though we prayed for it night
+and day. The remorseless ocean was like a sheet of glass. The sun shone
+fiercely in the heavens. It made the sides of the cutter so hot that it
+hurt our poor hands to touch it.
+
+And all those days no sign of a sail! Not a vestige of a passing ship!
+
+Evans and Davis grumbled and swore. And so did Hookway sometimes.
+Gilliland was the most patient of the sailors; and tried to cheer up
+every one else with stories of other people's escapes.
+
+On the _May Queen_ Sylvia and I had thought Mr. Wheeler rather a
+commonplace sort of man. We knew him for a hero in the cutter. Often he
+used to break off pieces of his biscuit, I know, to add to Sylvia's and
+mine.
+
+"Friends," he said on the eleventh day, "the biscuit is all gone." His
+face was ghastly. His eyes were hollow. His lips were cracked and sore.
+
+"And the water?" asked the doctor faintly.
+
+"Barely a teaspoon apiece."
+
+"Keep it for the women then," suggested Dr. Atherton.
+
+"No!" shouted Davis with an oath.
+
+And, "We're all in the same boat," muttered Evans.
+
+Gilliland lifted his bloodshot eyes. "Hold your jaw!" he said.
+
+Hookway groaned feebly.
+
+They looked more like wild beasts than men, with their ghastly faces,
+and their glaring eyes--especially Davis.
+
+He looked at me desperately. He thought I was going to have all the
+water.
+
+"I won't take more than my share, Mr. Wheeler," I said. And I looked at
+Sylvia. She was lying in the stern muttering feebly to herself. She
+didn't hear.
+
+"God bless you, miss!" said Davis, and burst into an agony of sobs.
+
+The last spoonful of water was handed round, the doctor forcing Sylvia's
+portion into her mouth.
+
+And we wafted on, only just moving along, for there was no breeze. And
+the sun beat on us. And the sea glared. And Davis cursed. And Hookway
+writhed and moaned.
+
+"Take down the sails," said the first mate. "They are useless without
+any wind. Rig them up as an awning instead."
+
+The men obeyed.
+
+Then the doctor seized a vessel, and filling it with sea-water poured it
+over Sylvia as she lay, soaking her, clothes and all.
+
+"Oh, doctor!" I expostulated, wonderingly.
+
+"I'm going to drench you too, Miss Sara. It will relieve the thirst," he
+said.
+
+Sylvia opened her eyes. "Oh! it's bliss!" she said.
+
+Dr. Atherton then poured some salt water over me, and then over Mr.
+Wheeler and himself, and told the sailors to drench themselves as well.
+
+It _was_ a little relief--only a very little; and the heat gradually
+dried us up again.
+
+"Here, give me the baler!" cried Davis in a little while, and he caught
+it out of Gilliland's hand. "D'ye think I'm going to die o' thirst with
+all this water about?" And dipping it over the side of the cutter, he
+lifted it to his mouth.
+
+"Stop him!" shouted the doctor in a frenzy. "The salt water'll make him
+mad!"
+
+And Gilliland, with a desperate thrust, tipped it over his clothes
+instead.
+
+Davis howled. He tried to fight; but Gilliland was too strong for him,
+and soon he was huddled up in the fore part of the boat, cursing and
+swearing dreadfully.
+
+After a time he quieted down, and then he became so queer.
+
+"Roast beef!" he murmured, smacking his lips. "An' taters! An' cabbage!
+An' gravy! An' Yorkshire pudden'! My eye! It's prime! And so's the beer,
+my hearties!"
+
+He smiled. The anguish died out of his face. He thought he was eating it
+all. And then he began to finish off his dinner with apple pie.
+
+"Stow your gab!" snarled Evans. "Wot a fool he is!"
+
+And, indeed, it was maddening to hear him.
+
+An hour later he struggled into a sitting posture and turned a rapturous
+face upon the sea. "Water!" he shouted. "Water! Water!" And before any
+of the sailors could raise a hand to stop him he had rolled over the
+side of the boat.
+
+The first mate shouted. The men, feeble though they were, sprang to do
+his bidding. They were not in time. With a gurgling cry Davis was jerked
+under the water suddenly. Next moment the water bubbled, and before it
+grew calm again the surface was stained with blood.
+
+"A shark's got him!" shrieked Hookway. And as he cried the great black
+fin of some awful thing came gliding after the cutter.
+
+"He's had _his_ dinner," said Gilliland grimly; "and he's waiting for
+his supper now!"
+
+
+III.
+
+
+Oh! that terrible night, with the full moon shining down upon the quiet
+water! So still! So calm! Not a ripple on the wave! And that awful black
+something silently following us!
+
+Sylvia lay with her head upon the doctor's knee--one poor thin arm, half
+bared, across my lap. And so the morning found us.
+
+There was something the matter with Evans--something desperate. He was
+beginning to look like Davis--only worse. Something horrible in his
+ghastly face. It was wolfish. And his eyes--they were not like human
+eyes at all--they were the eyes of some fierce, wild beast. And they
+were fastened with a wolfish glare on Sylvia's half-bared arm. _He
+wanted to eat it!_
+
+Stealthily he had got his clasp knife out. And stealthily he was
+crouching as if to make a spring. And I couldn't speak!
+
+My tongue, as the Bible expresses it, clave to the roof of my mouth. I
+was powerless to make a sound. And none of the others happened to be
+looking at him.
+
+I put my hand on Mr. Wheeler's knee and gave him a feeble push. I
+pointed dumbly at Evans.
+
+"Put down that knife!" cried Mr. Wheeler in a voice of command. "Evans!"
+
+With a cry so hideous--I can hear it now--the man lunged forward. Mr.
+Wheeler tried to seize the knife; but Evans suddenly plunged it into his
+shoulder; and the first mate fell with a groan.
+
+Then there was an awful struggle.
+
+Gilliland and Hookway fighting with Evans. And the doctor trying to
+protect Sylvia and me; and dragging the first mate away from the
+scuffling feet. And I praying out loud in my agony that death might come
+to our relief.
+
+He was down at last. Lying in the bottom of the boat, with Gilliland
+sitting astride him, and Hookway getting a rope to tie him up! The
+doctor leaning over Mr. Wheeler and trying to staunch the blood, and the
+first mate fainting away!
+
+And then--Oh! heavens! with a cry--Gilliland sprang to his feet,
+shouting! gesticulating! waving his cap! Had he, too, now, suddenly gone
+mad?
+
+"Ship ahoy! ahoy!" he shrieked, and we followed his pointing hand.
+
+And there, on the bosom of the endless sea, we saw a ship becalmed.
+
+I suppose I swooned.
+
+When I recovered my senses, the cutter was creeping under her lee, and
+the crew were throwing us a rope.
+
+"The women first," said somebody in a cheerful voice. "And after them
+send up the wounded man."
+
+And soon kind, pitying faces were bending over us. And very tender hands
+were feeding Sylvia and me.
+
+"They've had a pooty consid'able squeak, I guess," said the cheerful
+voice.
+
+And somebody answered, "That's so."
+
+We had been picked up by an American schooner.
+
+
+
+
+A STRANGE VISITOR.
+
+BY MAUD HEIGHINGTON.
+
+
+The Priory was a fine, rambling old house, which had recently come into
+Jack Cheriton's possession through the death of a parsimonious relative.
+
+Part of the building only had been kept in repair, while the remainder
+had fallen into decay, and was, in fact, only a picturesque ruin.
+
+The Cheritons' first visit to their newly acquired property was a sort
+of reconnoitre visit. They had come from Town for a month's holiday,
+bringing with them Thatcher--little Mollie's nurse--as general factotum.
+
+They had barely been in the house an hour when a telegram summoned
+Thatcher to her mother's deathbed, and a day or two later urgent
+business recalled Jack to Town.
+
+"I'll just call at the Lodge and get Mrs. Somers to come up as early as
+she can this morning, and stay the night with you, so you will not be
+alone long," he called as he hurried off.
+
+His wife and Mollie watched him out of sight, and then returned to the
+breakfast-room--the little one amusing herself with her doll, while her
+mother put the breakfast things together.
+
+Millicent Cheriton was no coward, but an undefinable sense of uneasiness
+was stealing over her. The Priory was fully half an hour's walk from the
+Lodge, which was the nearest house. Still further off, in the opposite
+direction, stood a large building, the nature of which they had not yet
+discovered.
+
+Jack had never left her even for one night since their marriage--and
+now she had not even Thatcher left to bear her company.
+
+"Mrs. Somers will soon be here," she said in a comforting tone to
+Mollie, who, however, was too intent upon her doll to notice, and
+certainly did not share her mother's uneasiness.
+
+Meanwhile, Jack had reached the Lodge and made his request to Somers,
+the gamekeeper.
+
+"I'm main sorry, sir, but the missus thought as you would want her at
+eleven--as usual, so she started off early to get her marketing done
+first. I'll be sure and tell her to take her things up for the night as
+soon as she gets home."
+
+"Ten o'clock! No Mrs. Somers yet!"
+
+Mrs. Cheriton picked up her little daughter and carried her upstairs.
+
+"We'll make the beds, Mollie, you and I," she said, tossing the little
+maid into the middle of the shaken-up feather bed.
+
+This was fine fun, and Mollie begged for a repetition of it.
+
+"Hark! That must be Mrs. Somers," as a footstep sounded on the gravel
+path.
+
+"That's right, Mrs. Somers, I am glad you have come," called Millicent,
+but as she heard no reply, she thought she had been mistaken, and
+finished making the bed, then tying a sun-bonnet over Mollie's golden
+curls, took her downstairs, intending to take her into the garden to
+play.
+
+What was it that came over Millicent as she reached the hall? Again that
+strange uneasiness, and a feeling that some third person was near her.
+She grasped Mollie's hand more firmly, with an impatient exclamation to
+herself, for what she thought was silly nervousness, and walked into the
+dining-room.
+
+There, in the large armchair, lately occupied by her husband, sat a
+tall, gentlemanly looking man.
+
+He had already removed his hat, and was about to unlock a brown leather
+bag, which he held on his knee. He rose and bowed as Mrs. Cheriton
+entered the room.
+
+"I must apologise for intruding upon you, madam, but I do so in the
+cause of science, so I am sure you will pardon me."
+
+The words were fair enough, but something in the manner made Millicent's
+heart seem to stand still. Something also told her that she must not
+show her fear.
+
+"May I know to whom I am speaking?" she said, "and in what branch of
+science you take a special interest?"
+
+"Certainly, madam. My name is Wharton. I am a surgeon, and am greatly
+interested in vivisection."
+
+"Indeed!" said Millicent, summoning all her presence of mind, for as he
+spoke his manner grew more excitable, and he began to open his bag.
+
+"I called here," he said, "to make known a new discovery, which,
+however, I should like to demonstrate," and he fixed his restless eye on
+little Mollie, who was clinging shyly to her mother's gown.
+
+"I am sure it is very kind of you to take an interest in us--but it is
+so early, perhaps you have not breakfasted? May I get you some
+breakfast?"
+
+Would Mrs. Somers never come? and if she did, what could she do? for by
+this time Millicent had no doubt that she was talking to a madman.
+
+"Thank you, I do not need any," replied her visitor, as he began to take
+from his bag all kinds of terrible looking surgical instruments, and
+laid them on the table.
+
+In spite of the terror within her, Millicent tried to turn his attention
+from his bag, speaking of all kinds of general subjects as fast as they
+came to her mind, but though he answered her politely, it was with
+evident irritation, and he seemed to get more excitable every minute.
+
+"This will never do," she thought, "I must humour him," and with sinking
+heart she ventured on her next question.
+
+"What is this wonderful discovery, Mr. Wharton? if I may ask."
+
+"Certainly, madam. It is a permanent cure for deafness."
+
+Millicent began to breathe more freely as the thought passed through her
+mind "then it can't affect Mollie," for she forgot for a moment that
+her guest was not a sane man. Again his eye rested on Mollie, and he
+rose from his chair.
+
+"The cure is a certain one," he said, "the right ear must be amputated,
+and the passages thoroughly scraped, but I will show you," and he took a
+step towards Mollie.
+
+Millicent's face blanched.
+
+"But Mollie is not deaf," she said; "it will hardly do to operate on
+her."
+
+"It will prevent her ever becoming so, madam, and prevention is better
+than cure," and he stepped back to the table to select an instrument.
+
+The mother's presence of mind did not desert her--though her legs
+trembled so violently that she feared her visitor would see her terror.
+
+"It would be a very good thing to feel sure of that," she said. "You
+will want a firm table, of course, and good light. You might be
+interrupted here. I will show you a better room for the operation."
+
+"Thank you, madam, and I shall require plenty of hot water and towels."
+
+"Certainly," said Millicent, and leading him to the hall, she directed
+him to a room which had at one time been fitted as a laundry, and in
+which was an ironing bench.
+
+With sinking heart, she followed him to the top of the house--pointing
+the way through two attics into a third.
+
+"I will just leave you to arrange your things while I get hot water and
+towels, and put on Mollie's nightdress," she said, and closing the door,
+turned the key. It grated noisily, but the visitor was too much occupied
+to notice it, and rushing through the other rooms, Millicent locked both
+doors, and fled downstairs.
+
+Snatching her little one in her arms, she hurried through the
+garden--pausing at the gate to shift Mollie from her arms on to her
+back.
+
+She had barely left the gate when a horrible yell of baffled rage rent
+the air, making her turn and glance up at the window of the attic.
+
+The maniac had just discovered that the door was locked, and rushing to
+the window caught sight of his hostess and desired patient fleeing from
+the house.
+
+One glance showed Millicent that he was about to get out of the window,
+but whether he intended to clamber down by the ivy, or creep in at the
+next attic, she did not stop to ascertain; only praying that she might
+have strength to gain a place of safety she sped on, staggering under
+the weight of her little one, who clung to her neck in wonder.
+
+On and on, still with the wild yells of rage ringing in her ears, until
+she had put three fields between herself and the house, when she stopped
+for breath in a shady lane.
+
+Hark! Surely it was the sound of wheels coming towards her. "Help! oh,
+help!" she shouted. "Help! help! help!"
+
+In another moment a brougham, drawn by two horses, appeared, coming
+slowly up the hill towards her.
+
+The coachman at a word from his master drew up, and Millicent, now
+nearly fainting from terror and exhaustion, was helped into the
+carriage.
+
+Giving directions to the coachman to drive home as quickly as possible,
+Dr. Shielding, for it was the medical superintendent of the Lunatic
+Asylum, the long building already referred to, drew from her between
+sobs and gasps the story of her fright.
+
+At length they drew up before the doctor's house, in the grounds of the
+asylum, and with a hasty word of introduction, Dr. Shielding left
+Millicent and Mollie with his wife and daughter.
+
+Summoning two burly-looking keepers, he stepped into his brougham again.
+
+"To the Priory," he said, and then related the story to the men,
+describing the position of the attic as told him by Millicent, adding
+that he had just returned from a distant village, where he had been
+called for consultation about a case of rapidly developed homicidal
+mania of a local medical man, but the patient had eluded his caretaker,
+the previous day, and could not be found.
+
+"I have no doubt it is the same man," he said, "and there he is!" he
+added, as they stopped before the Priory gate, to find the strange
+visitor was trying to descend from the window by the ivy.
+
+There he clung, bag in hand, still five-and-twenty feet from the ground.
+When hearing their voices, he turned to look at them, and in so doing
+lost his hold, falling heavily to the ground.
+
+They hastened to the spot, just in time to see a spasmodic quiver of the
+limbs as he drew his last breath. He had struck his head violently
+against a huge stone and broken his neck.
+
+The body was removed to the mortuary of the asylum, with all speed, and
+the relatives of the poor man telegraphed for, and when Dr. Shielding
+returned home he found that his wife had insisted upon keeping Mollie
+and Millicent as their guests until Jack's return, to which arrangement
+he heartily assented.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Jack's face blanched as he read a paragraph describing the adventure in
+his morning paper the following day, and when his letters were brought
+in, he hastily broke the seal of one in his wife's handwriting, and read
+the story in her own words, finishing with, "Oh, Jack, dear, I never,
+never can go back there again; do come and fetch us home."
+
+They never did return to the Priory, for on his way to the station, Jack
+put it into the hands of an agent for sale, and when he reached
+Beechcroft, he begged Mrs. Somers to go and pack up all their personal
+belongings and send them back to Town.
+
+It was with feelings of deep thankfulness that he clasped his wife and
+little one in his arms once more, inwardly vowing that come what might,
+he would never again leave them without protection, even for an hour.
+
+
+
+
+THE THIRD PERSON SINGULAR.
+
+BY LUCY HARDY.
+
+
+"You remember the old coaching days, granny?"
+
+"Indeed I do," replied the old lady, with a smile, "for one of the
+strangest adventures of my life befell me on my first stage-coach
+journey. Yes, you girls shall hear the story; I am getting into my
+'anecdotage,' as Horace Walpole calls it," and granny laughed with the
+secret consciousness that her "anecdotes" were always sure of an
+appreciative audience.
+
+"People did not run about hither and thither in my young days as you
+girls do now," went on the old lady, "and it was quite an event to take
+a coach journey. In fact, when I started on my first one, I was nearly
+twenty years old; and my father and mother had then debated a good while
+as to whether I could be permitted to travel alone by the stage. My
+father was a country parson, as you know, and we lived in a very remote
+Yorkshire village. But an aunt, who was rich and childless, had lately
+taken up her residence at York, and had written so urgently to beg that
+I might be allowed to spend the winter with her, and thus cheer her
+loneliness, that it was decided that I must accept the invitation. It
+was the custom then for many of the local country gentry to visit the
+great provincial towns for their 'seasons' instead of undertaking the
+long journey to the metropolis. York, and many another country town, is
+still full of the fine old 'town houses' of the local gentry, who now go
+to London to 'bring out' their young daughters; but who, in the former
+days, were content with the gaieties offered by their own provincial
+capital. Very lively and pleasant were the 'seasons' of the country
+towns in my youth; and I think there was more real hospitality and
+sociability found among the country neighbours than one meets with in
+London society nowadays. I, of course, was delighted at the prospect of
+exchanging the dull life of our little village for the gaieties of York;
+but when it actually came to saying good-bye to my parents, from whom I
+had never yet been separated, I was half inclined to wish that Aunt
+Maria's invitation had been refused. Farmer Gray, who was to drive me to
+the neighbouring town, where I should join the coach, was very kind; and
+pretended not to see how I was crying under my veil. We lumbered along
+the narrow lanes and at length reached the little market town where I
+was deposited at the 'Blue Boar' to have some tea and await the arrival
+of the mail. I had often watched the coach dash up, and off again, when
+visiting the town with my father; but it seemed like a dream that I,
+Dolly Harcourt, was now actually to be a passenger in the conveyance.
+The dusk of a winter's evening was gathering as the mail came in sight,
+its red lamps gleaming through the mist. Ostlers prided themselves upon
+the celerity with which the change of horses was effected, and
+passengers were expected to be equally quick; I was bustled inside (my
+place had been taken days previously) before I had time to think twice.
+Fortunately, as I thought, remembering the long night journey which lay
+before me, I found the interior of the coach empty, several passengers
+having just alighted; but, as I settled myself in one corner, two
+figures hurried up, a short man, and a woman in a long cloak and
+poke-bonnet, with a thick veil over her face.
+
+"'Just in time,' cried the man. 'Yes, I've booked two places, Mr. Jones
+and Miss Jenny,' and the pair stumbled in just as the impatient horses
+started.
+
+"'Miss Jenny.' Well, I was glad that I was not to have a long night
+journey alone with a strange man. I glanced at the cloaked and veiled
+figure which sank awkwardly into the opposite corner of the vehicle, and
+then leaned forward to remove some of my little packages from the seat;
+in so doing I brushed against her bonnet.
+
+"'I beg your pardon, madam,' I said politely; 'I was removing these
+parcels, fearing they might incommode you.'
+
+"'All right, all right, miss,' said the man, a red-faced, vulgar-looking
+personage; 'don't you trouble about Jenny, she'll do very well;' and he
+proceeded to settle his companion in the corner rather unceremoniously.
+
+"'Is she his sister or his wife, I wonder,' I thought; 'he does not seem
+particularly courteous to her;' and I took a dislike to my
+fellow-passenger on the spot. He, however, was happily indifferent to my
+good or evil opinion; pulling a cap from his pocket, he exchanged his
+hat for it, settled himself comfortably by his companion's side, and, in
+a few moments, was sound asleep, as his snores proclaimed. I could not
+follow his example. I felt terribly lonely, and not a little nervous. As
+we sped along at what appeared to my inexperience such a break-neck rate
+(ten miles an hour seemed so _then_, before railways whirled you along
+like lightning), I began to recall all the dismal stories of coach
+accidents, and of highwaymen, which I had read or heard of during my
+quiet village existence. Suppose, on this very moor which we were now
+crossing, a highwayman rode up and popped a pistol in at the window. I
+myself had not much to lose, though I should have been extremely
+reluctant to part with the new silk purse which my mother had netted for
+me, and in which she and father had each placed a guinea--coins not too
+plentiful in our country vicarage in those days. And suppose the
+highwayman was not satisfied with mere robbery, but should oblige me to
+alight and dance a minuet with him on the heath, as did Claud Duval;
+suppose--here my nervous fears took a fresh turn, for the cloaked lady
+opposite began to move restlessly, and the man, half waking, gave her a
+brisk nudge with his elbow and cried sharply,--
+
+"'Now, then, keep quiet, I say.'
+
+"This was a strange manner in which to address a lady. Could this man be
+sober, I thought, and a shiver ran through me at the idea of being
+doomed to spend so many hours in company with a possibly intoxicated,
+and certainly surly man. How rudely he addressed his companion, how
+little he seemed to care for her comfort! As I looked more carefully at
+the pair (the rising moon now giving me sufficient light to do this) I
+noted that the man's hand was slipped under the woman's cloak, and that
+he was apparently holding her down in her seat by her wrist. A fresh
+terror now assailed me--was I travelling with a lunatic and her keeper?
+I vainly tried to obtain a glimpse of the woman's countenance, so
+shrouded by her poke-bonnet and thick veil.
+
+"The man was speedily snoring again, and I sat with my eyes fixed on the
+cloaked figure, wondering--speculating. Poor thing, was she indeed a
+lunatic travelling in charge of this rough attendant? Pity filled my
+heart as I thought of this afflicted creature, possibly torn from home
+and friends and sent away with a surly guardian; who, I now felt _sure_,
+was not too sober. Was the woman old or young, of humble rank or a lady?
+I began to weave a dozen romantic stories in my head about my
+fellow-passengers, quite forgetting all my recent fears about the
+'knights of the road.' So sorry did I feel for the woman that I leant
+across and addressed some trivial, polite remark to her, but received no
+reply. I gently touched her cloak to draw her attention, but the lady's
+temper seemed as testy as that of her companion; she abruptly twisted
+away from my touch with some inarticulate, but evidently angry
+exclamation, which sounded almost like a growl. I shrank back abashed
+into my corner and attempted no more civilities. Would the coach never
+reach York and I be freed from the presence of these mysterious
+fellow-passengers? I was but a timid little country lass, and this was
+my first flight from home. It was certainly not a pleasant idea to
+believe oneself shut up for several hours with a half-tipsy man and a
+lunatic; as I now firmly believed the woman to be. I sat very still,
+fearing to annoy her by any chance movement, but my addressing her had
+evidently disturbed her, for she began to move restlessly, and to make a
+kind of muttering to herself. I gradually edged away towards the other
+end of the seat, so as to leave as much space between myself and the
+lady as possible, and in so doing let my shawl fall to the floor of the
+coach. I stooped to pick it up, and there beheld, protruding from my
+fellow-passenger's cloak, _her foot_. Oh horrors! I saw no woman's
+dainty shoe--but a hairy paw, with long nails--was it _cloven_?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The frantic shriek I gave stopped the coach, and the guard and the
+outside passengers were round the door in a moment. For the first time
+in my life I had fainted--so missed the first excited turmoil--but soon
+revived to find myself lying on the moor, the centre of a kindly group
+of fellow-travellers, who were proffering essences, and brandy, and all
+other approved restoratives; while in the background, like distant
+thunder, were heard the adjurations of the guard and the coachman, who
+were swearing like troopers at the other--or rather at the _male_,
+inside passenger. Struggling into a sitting position, I beheld this man,
+sobered now by the shock of my alarm, and by the vials of wrath which
+were being emptied upon him, standing in a submissive attitude, while
+beside him, her cloak thrown back and her poke-bonnet thrust on one
+side, was the mysterious 'lady'--now revealed in her true character as a
+_performing bear_. It seemed that a showman, desirous of conveying this
+animal (which he described as 'quiet as an hangel') with the least
+trouble and expense to himself, bethought him of the expedient of
+booking places in the coach for himself and the bear, which bore the
+name of 'Miss Jenny'; trusting to her wraps and to the darkness to
+disguise the creature sufficiently. I will not repeat the language of
+the guard and coachman on discovering the trick played; but after
+direful threats as to what the showman might 'expect' as the result of
+his device, matters were amicably arranged. The owner of the bear made
+most abject apologies all round (I fancy giving more than _civil words_
+to the coach officials), I interceded for him, and the mail set off at
+double speed to make up for lost time. Only, with my knowledge of 'Miss
+Jenny's' real identity, I absolutely declined to occupy the interior of
+the coach again despite the showman's assertions of his pet's
+harmlessness; and the old coachman sympathising with me, I was helped up
+to a place by his side on the box, and carefully wrapped up in a huge
+military cloak by a young gentleman who occupied the next seat, and who
+was, as he told me, an officer rejoining his regiment at York. The
+latter part of my journey was far pleasanter than the beginning; the
+coachman was full of amusing anecdotes, and the young officer made
+himself most agreeable. It transpired, in course of conversation, that
+my fellow-traveller was slightly acquainted with Aunt Maria; and this
+acquaintanceship induced him to request that he might be permitted to
+escort me to her house and see me safe after my disagreeable adventure.
+I had no objection to his accompanying myself and the staid maidservant
+whom I found waiting for me at the inn when the coach stopped at York;
+and Aunt Maria politely insisted on the young man's remaining to partake
+of the early breakfast she had prepared to greet my arrival."
+
+"Well, your fright did not end so badly after all, granny," remarked one
+of her listeners.
+
+"Not at all badly," replied the old lady with a quiet smile; "but for my
+fright I should never have made the acquaintance of that young officer."
+
+"And the officer was----"
+
+"He was _Captain_ Marten then, my dears--he became _General_ Marten
+afterwards--and was _your grandfather_."
+
+
+
+
+"HOW JACK MINDED THE BABY."
+
+BY DOROTHY PINHO.
+
+
+The _Etruria_ was on its way to New York. The voyage had been, so far,
+without accidents, or even incidents; the weather had been lovely; the
+sea, a magnificent stretch of blue, with a few miniature wavelets
+dancing in the sunlight.
+
+Amongst the passengers of the first-class saloon everybody noticed a
+slight girlish figure, always very simply attired; in spite of all her
+efforts to remain unnoticed, she seemed to attract attention by her
+great beauty. People whispered to each other, "Who is she?" All they
+knew was that her name was Mrs. Arthur West, and that she was going out
+to New York with her two babies to join her husband.
+
+Every morning she was on deck, or sometimes, if the sun was too fierce,
+in the saloon, and she made a charming picture reclining in her
+deck-chair, with baby Lily lying on her lap, and little Jack playing at
+her feet. Baby was only three or four months old; hardly anything more
+than a dainty heap of snowy silk and lace to anybody but her mother,
+who, of course, thought that nothing on earth could be as clever as the
+way she crowed and kicked out her absurd pink morsels of toes.
+
+Master Jack was quite an important personage; he was nearly four years
+old and very proud of the fact that this was his second voyage, while
+Lily had never been on a ship before, and, as he contemptuously
+remarked, "didn't even know who dada was." He was a quaint,
+old-fashioned little soul, and though he rather looked down upon his
+little sister from the height of his dignity and his first
+knickerbockers, he would often look after her for his mother and pat her
+off to sleep quite cleverly.
+
+We must not forget to mention "Rover," a lovely retriever; he was quite
+of the family, fairly worshipped by his little master, and the pet of
+the whole ship. He looked upon baby Lily as his own special property,
+and no stranger dare approach if he were guarding her.
+
+On the afternoon my story opens baby Lily had been very cross and
+fretful; the intense heat evidently did not agree with her. Poor little
+Mrs. West was quite worn out with walking up and down with her trying to
+lull her off to sleep. Jack was lying flat on the floor, engrossed in
+the beauties of a large picture-book; two or three times he raised his
+curly head and shook it gravely. Then he said, "Isn't she a naughty
+baby, mummie?"
+
+"Yes, dear," answered his mother, "and I'm afraid that if she doesn't
+soon get good, we shall have to put her right through the porthole. We
+don't want to take a naughty baby-girl to daddy, do we?"
+
+"No, mummie," answered Jack very earnestly, and he returned once more to
+his pictures.
+
+"There, she has gone off," whispered Mrs. West, after a few moments.
+"Now, Jackie, I am going to put her down, and you must look after her
+while I go and see if the stewardess has boiled the milk for the night.
+Play very quietly, like a good little boy, because I don't think she is
+very sound asleep." And, with a parting kiss on his little uplifted
+face, she slipped away.
+
+The stewardess was nowhere to be found; so Mrs. West boiled the milk
+herself, as she had often done before, and after about ten minutes,
+returned to her cabin.
+
+Little Jack was in a corner, busy with a drawing-slate; he turned round
+as his mother came in. The berth where she had put the baby down was
+empty.
+
+"Was baby naughty? Has the stewardess taken her?" she asked.
+
+"No, mummie; baby woke up d'rectly you went, an' she was so dreff'ly
+naughty--she just _wouldn't_ go to sleep again; so I thought I'd better
+punish her, an' I put her, just this minute, through the porthole, like
+you said; but I dessay she'll be good now, and p'raps you'd
+better----but what's the matter, mummie? Are you going to be seasick?"
+for his mother had turned deathly white, and was holding on to the wall
+for support.
+
+"My baby, my little one!" she gasped; then, pulling herself together
+with a sudden effort, she rushed towards the stairs; little Jack,
+bewildered, but suddenly overcome by a strange feeling of awe, following
+in the rear. As she reached the deck, she became aware that the liner
+had stopped; there was a great commotion among the passengers; she heard
+some one say, "Good dog! brave fellow!" and Rover, pushing his way
+between the excited people, brought to her feet a dripping, wailing
+bundle, which she strained to her heart, and fainted away.
+
+Need I narrate what had happened? When little Jack had "put naughty baby
+through the porthole," Rover was on deck with his two front paws up on
+the side of the vessel, watching intently some sea-gulls dipping in the
+waves. He suddenly saw the little white bundle touch the water; some
+marvellous instinct told him it was his little charge, and he gave a
+sudden leap over the side. A sailor of the crew saw him disappear, and
+gave the alarm: "Stop the ship! man overboard!"
+
+A boat was lowered, and in a few seconds Rover was on deck again,
+holding baby Lily fast between his jaws.
+
+Mrs. West never left her children alone after that; and when, a few days
+later, on the quay at New York, she was clasped in her husband's arms,
+she told him, between her sobs, how near he had been to never seeing his
+little daughter.
+
+
+
+
+MY GRANDMOTHER'S ADVENTURE.
+
+_A STORY FOUNDED ON FACT._
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+My grandmother was one of the right sort. She was a fine old lady with
+all her faculties about her at eighty-six, and with a memory that could
+recall the stirring incidents of the earlier part of the century with a
+vividness which made them live again in our eager eyes and ears. She was
+born with the century and was nearly fifteen years old when Napoleon
+escaped from Elba, and the exciting circumstances that followed,
+occurring as they did at the most impressionable period of her life,
+became indelibly fixed upon her mind. She had relatives and friends who
+had distinguished themselves in the Peninsula war, in memory of one of
+whom, who fell in the last grand charge at Waterloo, she always wore a
+mourning ring.
+
+But it was not at Waterloo that my grandmother met with the adventure
+which it is now my business to chronicle. It was a real genuine
+adventure, however, and it befell her a year or so after the final fall
+of Napoleon, and in a quiet, secluded spot in the county of Wiltshire,
+England, not far from Salisbury Plain; but as I am quite sure I cannot
+improve upon the dear old lady's oft-repeated version of the story, I
+will try and tell it as it fell from those dear, worn lips now for ever
+silent in the grave.
+
+"I was in my sixteenth year when it was decided that, all fear of
+foreign invasion being over, I should be sent to London to complete my
+education and to receive those finishing touches in manners and
+deportment 'which a metropolis of wealth and fashion alone can give.'
+
+"Never having left home before, I looked forward to my journey with some
+feeling of excitement and not a little of foreboding and dread. I could
+not quite make up my mind whether I was really sorry or glad. The quiet
+home life to which I had been accustomed, varied only by occasional
+visits from the more old-fashioned of the local country families, made
+me long for the larger life, which I knew must belong to the biggest
+city in the world (life which I was simple enough to think I might see a
+great deal of even from the windows of a boarding-school), and made me
+look forward with joyful anticipation to my journey; while the fear of
+flying from the humdrum that I knew, to discipline I knew not of, made
+me temper my anticipations with misgivings and cloud my hopes with
+fears. To put the matter practically, I think I was generally glad when
+I got up in the morning and sorry when I went to bed at night.
+
+"My father's house stood about a hundred yards from the main road, some
+three miles west of Salisbury, and in order to take my passage for
+London, it was necessary that I should be driven into Salisbury in the
+family buggy to join the Exeter mail. I well remember the start. My
+carpet-bag and trunk had been locked and unlocked a great many times
+before they were finally signed, sealed, and delivered to the old
+man-servant who acted as gardener, coachman, and general factotum to our
+household, and when we started off my father placed a book in my hands,
+that I might have something with me to beguile the tedium of the
+journey. My father accompanied me as far as Salisbury to bespeak the
+care and attention of the guard on my behalf, but finding that the only
+other inside passenger was an old gentleman of whom he had some slight
+knowledge, he commended me to my fellow-passenger's protection, and with
+many admonitions as to my future conduct, left me to pursue the journey
+in his company.
+
+"I was feeling rather dull after my companion had exhausted the
+commonplaces of conversation, and experienced a strange loneliness when
+I saw that he had fallen fast asleep in his comfortable corner enveloped
+in rugs and furs. Driven in upon my own resources I opened my book, and
+began to read, though the faint light of the coach lamp did not offer me
+much encouragement.
+
+"The volume was one of 'Travel and Adventure,' and told of the
+experiences of the writer even in the lion's mouth. It recounted
+numerous hair-breadth escapes from the tender mercies of savage animals,
+and described them with such thrilling detail that I soon became
+conscious of those creepy sensations which are so well calculated to
+make us take fright at the least unusual circumstance. I had just got to
+a part at which a wounded lion had struck down his intrepid hunter and
+was standing with one paw upon his breast roaring his defiance to the
+four winds of heaven, when suddenly the coach pulled up with a
+suddenness that threw me into the arms of my companion and somewhat
+unceremoniously aroused him from his slumber. The next moment the coach
+rolled back a few paces and the next plunged forward a few more.
+Meanwhile, the shouts and cries of the outside passengers and the
+rumbling and clambering on the roof of the coach made it clear that
+something terrible had happened. Naturally nervous, and rendered doubly
+so by the narrative I had been reading, I concluded that all Africa was
+upon us and that either natives or wild animals would soon eat us up. My
+companion was no less excited than I was, excitement that was in no way
+lessened by his sense of responsibility for my welfare, and perceiving a
+house close to the road but a few yards in the rear of the coach, he
+hurried me out of the vehicle with more speed than ceremony, and in
+another moment was almost dragging me towards the door. As we alighted,
+our speed was suddenly accelerated by the unmistakable roar of some wild
+beast which had apparently leapt out of the leaves of the book I had
+been reading and was attempting to illustrate the narrative which had so
+thrilled my imagination. There was no mistake about it now; some wild
+beast had attacked the coach, and I was already, in thought, lying
+prostrate beneath his feet. The next thing that I remember was awakening
+in the presence of an eager and interested group gathered round a fire
+in the waiting-room of a village post-house.
+
+"Many versions of the story were current for years among the gossips of
+the country-side, and they differed very materially in the details of
+the narrative. One said it was a tiger which was being conveyed to the
+gardens of the Zoological Society in London, another that it was a
+performing bear which had suddenly gone mad and killed its keeper while
+on its way to Salisbury Fair. Of course the papers published various
+accounts of it, and the story with many variations found its way into
+several books. As you know, I was not an eye-witness of the
+circumstances any further than I have described them, so I am dependent
+upon others for the true account of the facts. The fullest account that
+I have seen in print appeared in a book I bought many years after the
+event, and now if you will get me my spectacles I will read you the
+remainder of the story from that volume.
+
+"'Not many years ago, a curious example of the ferocity of the lioness
+occurred in England. The Exeter mail-coach, on its way to London, was
+attacked on Sunday night, October 20th, 1816, at Winter's Law-Hut, seven
+miles from Salisbury, in a most extraordinary manner. At the moment when
+the coachman pulled up, to deliver his bags, one of the leading horses
+was suddenly seized by a ferocious animal. This produced a great
+confusion and alarm. Two passengers, who were inside the mail, got out,
+and ran in the house. The horse kicked and plunged violently; and it was
+with difficulty the coachman could prevent the carriage from being
+overturned. It was soon observed by the coachman and guard, by the light
+of the lamps, that the animal which had seized the horse was a huge
+lioness. A large mastiff dog came up and attacked her fiercely, on which
+she quitted the horse, and turned upon him. The dog fled, but was
+pursued and killed by the lioness, within about forty yards of the
+place. It appears that the beast had escaped from a caravan, which was
+standing on the roadside, and belonged to a menagerie, on its way to
+Salisbury Fair. An alarm being given, the keepers pursued and hunted the
+lioness, carrying the dog in her teeth, into a hovel under a granary,
+which served for keeping agricultural implements. About half-past eight,
+they had secured her effectually by barricading the place, so as to
+prevent her escape. The horse, when first attacked, fought with great
+spirit; and if he had been at liberty, would probably have beaten down
+his antagonist with his fore-feet; but in plunging, he embarrassed
+himself in the harness. The lioness, it appears, attacked him in front,
+and springing at his throat, had fastened the talons of her fore-feet on
+each side of his gullet, close to the head, while the talons of her
+hind-feet were forced into the chest. In this situation she hung, while
+the blood was seen streaming, as if a vein had been opened by a lancet.
+The furious animal missed the throat and jugular vein; but the horse was
+so dreadfully torn, that he was not at first expected to survive. The
+expressions of agony, in his tears and moans, were most piteous and
+affecting. Whether the lioness was afraid of her prey being taken from
+her, or from some other cause, she continued a considerable time after
+she had entered the hovel roaring in a dreadful manner, so loud, indeed,
+that she was distinctly heard at the distance of half a mile. She was
+eventually secured, and taken to her den; and the proprietor of the
+menagerie did not fail to take advantage of the incident, by having a
+representation of the attack painted in the most captivating colours and
+hung up in front of his establishment.'"
+
+My dear old grandmother quite expected to see "the lions" when she
+reached London, but she was not quite prepared to meet a lioness even
+half way.
+
+
+
+
+A TERRIBLE CHRISTMAS EVE.
+
+BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.
+
+
+I was always a very fearless girl. I do not say I never knew what fear
+was, for on the occasion I am about to relate I was distinctly
+frightened; but I was able to bear myself through it as if I felt
+nothing, and by this means to reassure my poor mother, who perhaps
+realised the danger more thoroughly than I did.
+
+Norah says if it had happened to her she would just have died of fright,
+and I do think she would have, for she is so delicate and timid, and has
+such very highly-strung nerves. Mother and I always call it our
+adventure. I, with a laugh now; but mother, always with a shudder and a
+paling of her sweet face, for she and Norah are very much alike in
+constitution. She says if I had not been her stay and backbone on that
+occasion she must surely have let those awful French people rob her of
+all she possessed. But I am going on too fast.
+
+It happened in this way. Father had some business to transact in France
+in connection with his firm, and had gone off in high spirits, for after
+the business was finished and done with he had arranged to do a little
+travelling on his own account with Mr. Westover--an old chum of his.
+
+We had heard regularly from him as having a very good time till one
+morning the post brought a letter to say he had contracted a low fever
+and was lying sick at a wayside inn. He begged us not to be alarmed for
+his friend was very attentive, and he hoped soon to be himself again.
+Mother was unhappy, we saw that, but Norah and I tried to cheer her up
+by saying how strong father always was, and how soon he shook off any
+little illness. It was his being sick away from home and in a foreign
+country that troubled her.
+
+A few days after a telegram arrived from Mr. Westover. He said mother
+must come at once, for the doctor had serious misgivings as to the turn
+the fever might take.
+
+"Mother, you must take Phyllis with you," decided Norah, who was
+trembling from head to foot, but trying to appear calm for mother's
+sake.
+
+I looked up at mother with eager eyes, for though the thought of dear
+father lying dangerously ill chilled me all over, yet the idea of
+travelling to France made my heart leap within me.
+
+Mother was packing a handbag when Norah spoke. She looked up and saw my
+eyes round with delight.
+
+"Yes," she said, "I would prefer a companion. Phyllis, get ready at
+once, for we haven't much time."
+
+Her voice sounded as if tears were in it, and I sprang up and kissed her
+before rushing away to my room.
+
+My little bag was packed before mother's, but then she had money
+arrangements to make which I had not.
+
+Two hours after the receipt of the telegram we were driving down the
+road to the railway station two miles from our home.
+
+Our journey was of no moment at first starting. We crossed the water
+without any mishap, and on arriving at Dunkirk bore the Custom-house
+officers' searching of our handbags with a stoical calmness. What
+mattered such trifles when our one thought, our one hope lay in the
+direction of that wayside inn where father lay tossing in delirium?
+
+We spent one night at an hotel, and the next morning, which was
+Christmas Eve, we were up early to catch the first express to Brives.
+From Brives to Fleur another train would take us, and the rest of our
+journey would have to be accomplished by _diligence_.
+
+It was cold, bitterly cold, and I saw mother's eyes look apprehensively
+up to the leaden sky. I knew she was fearing a heavy fall of snow which
+might interrupt our journey.
+
+We reached Fleur at three o'clock in the afternoon, and took the
+_diligence_ that was awaiting the train. Then what mother feared took
+place. Snow began to fall--heavy snow, and the horses in the _diligence_
+began to labour after only one hour's storm. Mother's face grew paler
+and paler. I did not dare to look at her, or to think what we should do
+if the snow prevented us getting much farther. And father! what would
+father do! After two hours' weary drive we sighted the first stopping
+place.
+
+"There is the inn!" said a portly fellow-traveller. "And a good thing,
+too, that we'll have a roof over our heads, for there will be no driving
+farther for some days to come."
+
+"We must make a jovial Christmas party by ourselves," said another old
+gentleman, gathering all his belongings together in preparation for
+getting out.
+
+I looked at mother. Her face was blanched.
+
+"But surely," she said, "this snow won't prevent the second _diligence_
+taking my daughter and myself to the _Pomme d'Or_ at Creux? It is only a
+matter of an hour from here."
+
+"You'll get no _diligence_ either to-day or to-morrow, madame," was the
+answer she received.
+
+The inn was reached--a funny little old-fashioned place--and we all
+descended ankle deep into the newly-fallen snow.
+
+The landlord of the inn was waiting at the door, and invited us all in
+with true French courtesy. The cosy kitchen we entered had a lovely wood
+fire in the old-fashioned grate, and the dancing flames cast a cheery
+light upon the whitewashed walls. Oh, if only this had been the inn
+where father was staying! How gladly we would have rested our weary
+limbs and revelled in that glorious firelight. But it was not to be.
+
+Mother's idea of another _diligence_ was quite pooh-poohed.
+
+"If it had been coming it would have been here before now," announced
+the landlord.
+
+"Then we must walk it," returned my mother.
+
+"Impossible," was the landlord's answer, and the portly old gentleman
+seconded him. "It is a matter of five miles from here."
+
+"If I wish to see my husband alive I must walk it," said my mother in
+tremulous tones.
+
+There was a murmur of commiseration, and the landlord, a kindly, genial
+old Frenchman, trotted to the door of the inn and looked out. He came
+back presently, rubbing his cold hands.
+
+"The snow has ceased, the stars are coming out. If Madame insists----"
+he shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"We shall walk it if you will kindly direct us the way."
+
+As she spoke my mother picked up her handbag, and I stooped for mine,
+but was arrested by a deep voice saying,--
+
+"I am going part of the way. If madame will allow me I will walk with
+her."
+
+I saw the landlord's open brow contract, and I turned to look at the
+speaker. He was a tall, dark, low-browed man, with shaggy black hair and
+deep-set eyes. He had been sitting there on our arrival, and I had not
+liked his appearance at first sight. I now hoped that mother would not
+accept his company. But mother, too intent on getting to her journey's
+end, jumped at the offer.
+
+"_Merci, monsieur_," she said gratefully. "We will start at once if you
+have no objection."
+
+The fellow got on his feet at once, and stretching out his hand took a
+slouched hat off the chair behind him and clapped it on his head. I did
+see mother give him one furtive look then--it gave him such a
+brigand-like appearance, but she resolutely turned away, and thanked the
+landlord for the short shelter he had afforded us. She was producing her
+purse, but the landlord, with a hasty glance in the direction of our
+escort, motioned her to put it away. He and the two gentlemen came to
+see us start, the landlord causing me some little comfort by calling
+after us that he would make inquiries as soon as he was able, as to
+whether we had reached our destination in safety.
+
+Our escort started ahead of us, and we followed close on his footsteps.
+We had journeyed so for two miles, plodding heavily and slowly along,
+for the snow was deep and the wind was cutting. Our companion never once
+spoke, and would only look occasionally over his shoulder to see if we
+were keeping up with him, and I was beginning to lose my fear of him and
+call myself a coward for being afraid, when suddenly the snow began
+again. This time it came down in whirling drifts penetrating through all
+our warm clothing, and making our walking heavier and more laboured than
+before. It was all we could do to keep our feet, for the wind whistled
+and moaned, threatening at every turn to bear us away.
+
+Then only did our companion speak.
+
+"_C'est mauvais_," he shouted above the storm, and his voice, sounding
+so gruff and deep and so unexpected, made me jump in the air.
+
+Mother assented in her gentle voice, and we plodded on as before, I
+wishing with all my heart that we had never left that cosy kitchen, for
+I could not see how we were to cover another three miles in this
+fashion. I said not a word, however, for I would not have gainsaid
+mother in this journey, considering how much there was at stake.
+
+It was she herself who came to a standstill after walking another half
+mile.
+
+"Monsieur," she called faintly, "I do not think I can go farther."
+
+He turned round then and, was it my fancy? but I thought, as he retraced
+his steps to our side, that an evil grin was making his ugly face still
+uglier.
+
+"Madame is tired. I am not surprised, but if she can manage just five
+minutes' more walk we shall reach my own house, where she can have
+shelter."
+
+Mother was grateful for his offer. She thanked him and continued her
+weary walk till a sudden bend in the road brought us almost upon a small
+house situated right on the road, looking dark and gloomy enough, with
+just one solitary light shining dimly through the darkness.
+
+The fellow paused here with his hand on the latch, and I noticed a small
+sign-board swaying and creaking in the wind just above our heads. This
+then was an inn too? Why then had the landlord of that other inn cast
+such suspicious glances at the proposal of this man?
+
+Such questions were answerable only the next morning, for just now I was
+too weary to care where I spent the night as I stumbled after mother
+into a dark passage, and then onwards to a room where the faint light
+had been dimly discernible from outside.
+
+In that room there was an ugly old woman--bent and aged--cooking
+something over a small fire; and crouched upon a low seat near the stove
+sat a hunchbacked man, swarthy, black-haired, and ugly too. My heart
+gave one leap, and then sank down into my shoes. What kind of a house
+had we come into to spend a whole night?
+
+Our escort said something rapidly in French--too rapidly for me to
+follow, and then motioned us to sit down as he placed two wooden chairs
+for us. Mother sank down, almost too wearied to return the greeting
+which the old hag by the fire accorded her.
+
+The hunchback eyed us without a word, but when I summoned up courage to
+occasionally glance in his direction I fancied that a sinister smile
+crossed his face, making him look curiously like our escort.
+
+Two bowls of soup were put down before us, and the old woman hospitably
+pressed us to partake of it. The whole family sat down to the same meal,
+but the hunchback had his in his seat by the fire. It was cabbage soup,
+and neither mother nor I fancied it very much, but for politeness' sake
+we took a few spoonfuls, and ate some of the coarse brown bread, of
+which there was plenty on the table.
+
+The warmth of the room was beginning to have effect on me, and my body
+was so inexpressibly weary that I felt half dozing in my seat, and my
+eyelids would close in spite of myself.
+
+All of a sudden I heard mother give a little scream. I was wide awake
+in an instant, and to my amazement saw the hunchback crawling on his
+hands and knees under the table. My mother's lips were white and
+trembling as she stooped to pick up the purse she had let fall in her
+fright, but before she could do so our escort stooped down and handed it
+to her with a--
+
+"_Permettez moi, madame._"
+
+At the same time he kicked out under the table, muttering an oath as he
+did so, and the hunchback returned to his seat by the fire and nursed
+his knees with his sinister grin.
+
+Mother began to apologise for her little scream.
+
+"I am very tired," she said, addressing the old woman; "and if it will
+not inconvenience you, my daughter and I would much like to retire for
+the night, as we wish to be up early to continue our journey."
+
+The old woman lighted a candle, looking at our escort as she did so.
+
+"Which room?" she asked.
+
+He gave a jerk of his head indicating a room above the one we were in;
+and then he opened the door very politely for us, and hoped we'd have a
+pleasant night.
+
+I could not resist the inclination to look back at the hunchback. He had
+left off nursing his knees, but his whole body was convulsed with silent
+laughter, and he was holding up close to his eyes a gold coin.
+
+The room the old woman conducted us to was a long one, with half-a-dozen
+steps leading up to it. She bade us good night and closed the door,
+leaving us with the lighted candle.
+
+The minute the door closed upon her, I darted to it. But horrors! there
+was no key, no bolt, nothing to fasten ourselves in. I looked at mother.
+She was sitting on the bed, and beckoned me with her finger to come
+close. I did so. She whispered,--
+
+"Phyllis, be brave for my sake. I have done a foolish thing in bringing
+you to this house. I distrust these people."
+
+"So do I," I whispered back.
+
+"That purse of mine that fell--they saw what was in it."
+
+"Did it fall open?"
+
+"Yes, and a napoleon rolled out--that hunchback picked it up and put it
+into his pocket. He did not think I saw him."
+
+"How much money have you got altogether?"
+
+"Twenty napoleons, and a few francs."
+
+"And they saw all that?"
+
+"I am afraid so. Of course they could not tell how much there was. They
+saw a number of coins. If they attempt to rob us of it all to-night we
+shall have nothing to continue our journey to-morrow. And how we can
+keep it from them I don't know."
+
+Mother's face was white and drawn. Father and Norah would not have
+recognised her.
+
+"We shall hide it from them," I answered as bravely as I could. I would
+not let mother see that I was nervous.
+
+The room was bare of everything but just the necessary furniture. A more
+difficult place to hide anything could not easily be found. Every
+article of ours would be ransacked, I felt sure. Our handbags would be
+searched; our clothes ditto. Where on earth could we put that purse?
+
+I was sitting on the bed as I looked round the room. We would, of
+course, be lying in the bed when they came to search the room, and even
+our pillows would not be safe from their touch. Stay! What did the bed
+clothes consist of? A hasty examination disclosed two blankets and a
+sheet, and under those the mattress. That mattress gave me an idea. I
+had found a hiding-place.
+
+"Have you scissors and needle and cotton in your bag?" I whispered.
+
+Mother nodded. "I think Norah put my sewing case in."
+
+She opened it. Yes, everything was to hand.
+
+With her help I turned the mattress right up, and made an incision in
+the middle of the ticking.
+
+"Give me the money," I said in a low voice.
+
+She handed it silently. I slipped each coin carefully into the incision.
+
+"We'll leave them the francs," mother whispered. "They might ... they
+might ... wish to harm us if they found nothing."
+
+I nodded. Then with the aid of the needle and cotton I stitched up the
+opening I had made, and without more ado we took off our outer clothes,
+our boots and stockings, and lay down in the bed.
+
+But not to sleep! We neither of us closed an eyelid, so alert were we
+for the expected footstep on the other side of the door.
+
+They gave us a reasonable time to go to sleep. Our extinguished candle
+told them we were in bed. Near about twelve o'clock our strained hearing
+detected the sound of a slight fumbling at the door. It opened, and the
+moonlight streaming in through the uncurtained windows showed us,
+through our half-shut eyelids, the figures of our escort and the
+hunchback. They moved like cats about the room. It struck me even then
+that they were used to these midnight searches.
+
+A thrill of fear went through me as the hunchback passed the bed, but a
+dogged persistency was with me still that they should not have our
+money. Our handbags were taken out of the room, doubtless to be examined
+at leisure by the old woman, and mulct of anything valuable. We heard a
+slight clink of money which meant the purse was emptied. Our clothes
+were shaken and examined, even our boots were looked into.
+
+Lastly they came to the bed. My eyes were glued then to my cheeks, and
+mother's must have been so as well. I could not see what they did, but I
+could feel them. They were practised though in their handling of our
+pillows, for had I been really asleep I should never have felt anything.
+
+They looked everywhere, they felt everywhere, everywhere but in the
+right place, and then with a hardly-concealed murmur of dissatisfaction
+they went from the room, closing the door after them. Mother and I lay
+quiet. The only thing we did was to hold one another's hands under the
+bed-clothes, and to press our shoulders close together.
+
+Only once again did the door open, and that was to admit our escort, who
+had brought back our handbags.
+
+And then the door closed for good and all, but we never said a word all
+the long night through, though each knew and felt that the other was
+awake. The grey dawn stealing in saw us with eyes strained and wide, and
+we turned and looked at each other, and mother kissed me. It was
+Christmas Day.
+
+Our hearts were braver with the daylight, and what was joy unspeakable
+was to see the snow melting fast away under the heavy thaw that had set
+in during the early hours of the dawn. Our journey could be pursued
+without much difficulty, for if need be we could walk every step of the
+way.
+
+When it was quite light we got up and dressed. I undid my stitching of
+the night before, gave mother back the gold safe and intact, and then
+sewed up the incision as neatly as I could.
+
+We went down hatted and cloaked to the room we had supped in the night
+before. It presented no change. Over the fire the old woman bent,
+stirring something in a saucepan; our escort was seated at the table,
+and by the stove sat the hunchback nursing his knees--with only one
+difference,--there was no grin upon his face. He looked like a man
+thwarted.
+
+We had just bade them good morning and the old woman was asking us how
+we had slept, when the noise of wheels and horses' feet sounded outside.
+It was the second _diligence_. The landlord of the inn had told the
+conductor to call and see if we had been forced to take refuge in our
+escort's house. The jovial conductor was beaming all over as he stamped
+his wet feet on the stone floor of the kitchen, laughing at the
+miraculous disappearance of all the snow. His very presence seemed to
+put new life into us.
+
+"And what am I indebted to you," asked mother, "for the kindly shelter
+you have afforded us?"
+
+Our escort shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever madame wishes," was his
+reply.
+
+So mother placed a napoleon upon the table. It was too much, I always
+maintained, after all the francs they had robbed from the purse, and the
+gold piece the hunchback had picked up, but it was the smallest coin
+mother had, and she told me afterwards she didn't grudge it, for our
+lives had been spared us as well as the bulk of our money.
+
+The _diligence_ rattled briskly along, and we reached the _Pomme d'Or_
+to find that father's illness had taken a favourable turn during that
+terrible night, and the only thing he needed now was care and good
+nursing. When he was well again he reported our experiences to the
+police, and we had good reason to believe that no credulous wayfarer
+ever had to undergo the terrible ordeal that we did that night. The
+house was ever after kept under strict police surveillance.
+
+
+
+
+A NIGHT OF HORROR.
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+The jaguar, otherwise known as the American leopard, belongs to the
+forests of South America, and has many points of difference from, as
+well as some of similarity with, the leopard of Asia. Though ferocious
+in his wild state, he is amenable to civilising influences and becomes
+mild and tame in captivity. He is an excellent swimmer and an expert
+climber, ascending to the tops of high branchless trees by fixing his
+claws in the trunks. It is said that he can hunt in the trees almost as
+well as he can upon the ground, and that hence he becomes a formidable
+enemy to the monkeys. He is also a clever fisherman, his method being
+that of dropping saliva on to the surface of the water, and upon the
+approach of a fish, by a dexterous stroke of his paw knocking it out of
+the water on to the bank.
+
+But the jaguar by no means confines his attention to hunting monkeys and
+defenceless fish. He will hunt big game, and when hungry will not
+hesitate to attack man.
+
+The strength of the jaguar is very great, and as he can climb, swim, and
+leap a great distance, he seems to be almost equally formidable in three
+elements. He is said to attack the alligator and to banquet with evident
+relish off his victim. D'Azara says that on one occasion he found a
+jaguar feasting upon a horse which it had killed. The jaguar fled at his
+approach, whereupon he had the body of the horse dragged to within a
+musket shot of a tree in which he purposed watching for the jaguar's
+return. While temporarily absent he left a man to keep watch, and while
+he was away the jaguar reappeared on the opposite side of a river which
+was both deep and broad. Having crossed the river the animal approached,
+and seized the horse with his teeth, dragged it some sixty paces to the
+water side, plunged in with it, swam across the river, pulled it out
+upon the other side, and carried it into a neighbouring wood.
+
+Such an animal could not but be a formidable foe to any one who had the
+misfortune to be unarmed when attacked, as many an early settler in the
+Western States of America found to his cost. Among such experiences, the
+following story of a night of horror told by Mrs. Bowdich stands out as
+a tale of terror scarcely likely to be surpassed.
+
+Two of the early settlers in the Western States of America, a man and
+his wife, once closed their wooden hut, and went to pay a visit at a
+distance, leaving a freshly-killed piece of venison hanging inside. The
+gable end of this house was not boarded up as high as the roof, but a
+large aperture was left for light and air. By taking an enormous leap, a
+hungry jaguar, attracted by the smell of the venison, had entered the
+hut and devoured part of it. He was disturbed by the return of the
+owners, and took his departure. The venison was removed. The husband
+went away the night after to a distance, and left his wife alone in the
+hut. She had not been long in bed before she heard the jaguar leap in at
+the open gable. There was no door between her room and that in which he
+had entered, and she knew not how to protect herself. She, however,
+screamed as loudly as she could, and made all the violent noises she
+could think of, which served to frighten him away at that time; but she
+knew he would come again, and she must be prepared for him. She tried to
+make a large fire, but the wood was expended. She thought of rolling
+herself up in the bed-clothes, but these would be torn off. The idea of
+getting under the low bedstead suggested itself, but she felt sure a paw
+would be stretched forth which would drag her out. Her husband had taken
+all their firearms. At last, as she heard the jaguar this time
+scrambling up the end of the house, she in despair got into a large
+store chest, the lid of which closed with a spring. Scarcely was she
+within it, and had dragged the lid down, inserting her fingers between
+it and the side of the chest, when the jaguar discovered where she was.
+He smelt round the chest, tried to get his head in through the crack,
+but fortunately he could not raise the lid. He found her fingers and
+began to lick them; she felt them bleed, but did not dare to move them
+for fear she should be suffocated. At length the jaguar leaped on to the
+lid, and his weight pressing down the lid, fractured these fingers.
+Still she could not move. He smelt round again, he pulled, he leaped on
+and off, till at last getting tired of his vain efforts, he went away.
+The poor woman lay there till daybreak, and then only feeling safe from
+her enemy, she went as fast as her strength would let her to her nearest
+neighbour's, a distance of two miles, where she procured help for her
+wounded fingers, which were long in getting well. On his return, her
+husband found a male and female jaguar in the forest close by, with
+their cubs, and all were destroyed.
+
+Human hair has been known to turn white in a single night, and is often
+said to do so in the pages of fiction. Whether it did so or not in the
+present case is not recorded, but certainly if it did not, it lost an
+exceptional opportunity.
+
+
+
+
+AUNT GRIEVES' SILVER.
+
+BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.
+
+
+When Kate Hamilton's father had been dead six months, and Kate had had
+time to realise that the extensive sheep station belonged to her and to
+her alone--that she, in fact, was what the shearers called "the
+boss"--then did she sit down and pen a few lines to her aunt in
+England--her father's only sister. She did not exactly know what
+possessed her to do it. She had never at any time during her nineteen
+years corresponded with her aunt; it was her father who had kept up the
+tie between his sister and himself. But notwithstanding that she was now
+"boss," perhaps a craving for a little of the sympathy and the great
+affection with which her father had always surrounded her, had something
+to do with her wishing to get up a correspondence with his sister.
+Whatever the reason the impulse was there, and the letter was despatched
+to the England that Kate had never seen except through her father's
+eyes.
+
+A few weeks later she received an answer that filled her with surprise.
+
+After a few preliminary remarks relating to the grief she felt at the
+news of her brother's death, Mrs. Grieves wrote as follows:
+
+     "Your cousin Cicely and I cannot bear to think of your
+     being alone--young girl that you are--without a single
+     relative near for comfort or advice. I have made up my mind
+     to start for Australia as soon as I can arrange my affairs
+     satisfactorily. There is nothing to keep us in England
+     since Cicely's father died last year, and I long to see my
+     brother's only child. Moreover, the voyage will do Cicely
+     good, for she is very fragile, and the doctor warmly
+     approves of the idea. So adieu, my dear child, till we
+     meet. I shall send a cablegram the day before our vessel
+     starts.
+
+                                "Your affectionate aunt,
+                                           "CAROLINE GRIEVES."
+
+Kate's face was a study when she had finished reading the letter.
+Surprise she certainly felt, and a little amusement, too, to think that
+she--an Australian bush-born girl--could not look after herself and her
+affairs without an English aunt and an English cousin travelling many
+thousands of miles across the water to aid her with their advice.
+
+Hadn't she been for the last three years her father's right hand in the
+store, and in the shearing-shed, too, for that matter? Didn't she
+understand thoroughly how the books were kept? For this very reason her
+father, knowing full well that the complaint from which he suffered
+would sooner or later cause his death, had kept her cognisant of how the
+station should be managed. And now these English relatives were leaving
+their beautiful English home to give her advice upon matters that they
+were totally ignorant of!
+
+Kate sat down with the letter in her hand and laughed. Then she looked
+sober. It would after all be pleasant to see some of her own relatives,
+not one of which--either on her dead mother's or her father's side--did
+she possess in Australia.
+
+Yes, after all, the idea, on closer investigation, did not seem at all
+disagreeable, and Kate took up the letter again and read it with
+pleasure this time.
+
+Even if she had wished to put a stop to the intended visit, she could
+not have had time, for three weeks later she received the cablegram:
+
+     "_We are leaving by the steamer Europia._"
+
+She really felt a thrill of joy as she read this. She could now
+calculate upon the day they were likely to arrive. The days flew fast
+enough, for Kate had not time to sit down and dream over the appearance
+of the travellers. The "boss" was wanted everywhere, and she must needs
+know the why and wherefore of matters pertaining to account-books,
+shearing sheds, cattle-yards, stores, and everything relating to the
+homestead.
+
+"It is good you were born with your father's business head," said Phil
+Wentworth, with a scarcely concealed look of admiration.
+
+He was the manager of the station at Watakona. Mr. Hamilton had chosen
+him five years before to be his representative over the shearing-shed
+and stores, finding him after that length of time fully capable of
+performing all and more than was expected of him. He was a good-looking
+young man of thirty, with a bright, cheery manner, that had a good
+effect upon those employed at the station.
+
+"Not a grumble from one of the men has ever been heard since Wentworth
+came here as manager," Kate's father had often said to her. "So
+different from that rascal Woods, who treated some of the men as if they
+were dogs, and allowed many a poor sheep to go shorn to its pen cut and
+bleeding from overhaste, with never a word of remonstrance."
+
+And Kate bore that in mind, as also some of her father's last words:
+
+"Don't ever be persuaded to part with Wentworth. He is far and away the
+best man I have ever had for the business."
+
+
+At last the day came when Mrs. Grieves and her daughter Cicely arrived
+at Watakona.
+
+There was a comical smile on the manager's good-looking face as trunk
+after trunk was lifted down off the waggon, and Kate's aunt announced
+that "there was more to come."
+
+"More to come!" answered Kate, surprised. And then, bursting into a
+laugh, "Dear aunt, what can you have brought that will be of any use to
+you in this out-of-the-way place?"
+
+Mrs. Grieves smilingly nodded her head. "There is not one trunk there
+that I could possibly do without."
+
+And Kate, with another smile, dismissed the subject.
+
+But not so her aunt. When they were all seated together after a
+comfortable tea, she began in a whisper, looking round cautiously first
+to see that no one was within hearing:
+
+"You are curious, Kate dear, to know what those trunks contain?"
+
+"My curiosity can stay, aunt. I am only afraid that what you have
+brought will be of no use to you. You see, I live such a quiet life
+here, with few friends and fewer grand dresses, that I fear you will be
+disappointed at not being able to wear any of the things you have
+brought."
+
+Cicely, a pretty, delicate-looking girl, laughed merrily.
+
+"They do not hold dresses, Kate. No, I have not thought to lead a gay
+life on a sheep station in Australia. What I have brought is something
+that I could not bear to leave behind. Those trunks contain all the
+silver I used to use in my English home."
+
+"Silver! What kind of silver?"
+
+"Teapots, cream ewers, épergnes, candlesticks, to say nothing of the
+spoons, forks, fish-knives, etc.," said Cicely gaily.
+
+"You've brought all those things with you here?" cried Kate, horrified.
+"Oh, aunt, where can I put them all for safety?"
+
+Mrs. Grieves looked nonplussed. "I suppose you have some iron safes----"
+she began.
+
+"But not big enough to store that quantity of silver!"
+
+Kate spent a restless night. Visions of bushrangers stood between her
+and sleep. What would she do with that silver?
+
+"Bank it," suggested Phil Wentworth the next morning, as she explained
+her difficulty to him in the little counting-house after breakfast.
+
+Kate shook her head. "Aunt wouldn't do it. If she did she might as well
+have banked it in England."
+
+The manager pulled his moustache. "How much is there?"
+
+"I haven't seen it, but from what Cicely says I should say there are
+heaps and heaps."
+
+"Foolish woman," was the manager's thought, but he wisely kept it to
+himself.
+
+When, however, the silver was laid before her very eyes, and piece after
+piece was taken from the trunks, ranged alongside one another in Mrs.
+Grieves's bedroom, Kate's heart failed her.
+
+"Mr. Wentworth must see it and advise me," was all she could say. And
+her aunt could not deter her.
+
+Kate's white brow was puckered into a frown, and her pretty mouth
+drooped slightly at the corners as she watched Mr. Wentworth making his
+inspection of the silver. She knew his face so well, she could tell at
+one glance that he was thinking her aunt an exceedingly foolish woman,
+and Kate was not quite sure that she did not agree with him.
+
+However, the silver was there, and they had to make the best of it, for
+Mrs. Grieves utterly rejected the idea of having it conveyed to a bank
+in Sydney.
+
+"The only thing to do," said the manager gloomily, turning to Kate, "is
+to place it under the trap-door in the counting-house."
+
+Kate looked questioningly at him. He half smiled.
+
+"I think that the only thing you are not aware of in the business is the
+fact that the flooring of the counting-house can be converted at will
+into a strong lock-up. Come, and I will show you."
+
+The three women followed him. To Cicely's English eyes the entire
+homestead was a strangely delightful place.
+
+Rolling to one side the matting that covered the floor of the
+counting-house, Mr. Wentworth paused, and introducing a lever between
+the joining of two boards upheaved a square trap-door, revealing to the
+eyes of the astonished English ladies, and the no less astonished
+Australian "boss," a wide, gaping receptacle, suitable for the very
+articles under discussion.
+
+It looked dark and gloomy below, but on the manager's striking a wax
+match and holding it aloft, they were enabled each one to descend the
+short ladder which the opening of the flooring revealed. Beneath the
+counting-house Kate found to her amazement a room quite as large as the
+one above it, furnished with chairs, a table, and a couple of stout iron
+safes. Upon the table stood an old iron candlestick into which Mr.
+Wentworth inserted a candle lighted from his wax match.
+
+"You never told me," were Kate's reproachful words, and still more
+reproachful glance.
+
+"I tell you now," he said lightly. "There was no need to before. Your
+father showed it me when I had been here a year. Indeed, he and I often
+forgot that the counting-house had been built for a double purpose,--but
+that was because there was nothing to stow away of much value. Now I
+think we have just the hiding-place for all that silver."
+
+It was indeed the place, the very place, and under great secrecy the
+silver was conveyed through the trap-door, and firmly locked into the
+iron safes.
+
+So far so good, and Kate breathed again with almost as much of her old
+light-heartedness as before.
+
+In spite of her doubt of the wisdom of bringing such valuables so far
+and to such a place, she and Cicely took a secret delight in a weekly
+cleaning up of the silver, secure of all observation from outsiders. It
+was a pleasure to Kate to lift and polish the handsome épergne, and to
+finger the delicate teaspoons and fanciful fish-knives and forks.
+
+"What a haul this would be for a bushranger!" she said one day, as she
+carefully laid the admired épergne back into its place in the iron safe.
+
+Cicely gave a gasp and a shudder. "You--you don't have them in these
+parts, surely!" she ejaculated.
+
+"If they find there is anything worth lifting they'll visit any
+homestead in the colony," returned Kate.
+
+"But oh! dear Kate, what should we do if they came here? I should die of
+fright."
+
+"Yes, I'm afraid you would," said Kate, glancing compassionately at the
+delicate figure beside her, and at the cheeks which had visibly lost
+their pink colour. "No, Cicely, I don't think there is any chance of
+such characters visiting us just now. The first and last time I saw a
+bushranger was when I was fifteen years old. He and his men tried to
+break into our house for, somehow, it had got wind that father had in
+the house a large sum of money--money which of course he usually banked.
+I can see dear old father now, standing with his rifle in his hand at
+the dining-room window, and Mr. Wentworth standing beside him. They were
+firing away at three men who were as much in earnest as my father and
+his manager were."
+
+"And what happened?" asked Cicely breathlessly, as Kate stopped to look
+round for her polishing cloth.
+
+"Father killed one man, the two others got away, not, however, before
+Mr. Wentworth had shot away the forefinger of the leader. We found it
+after they had gone, lying on the path beside the cattle-yard. He was a
+terrible fellow, the leader of that bushranging crew. He went by the
+name of Wolfgang. He may be alive now, I don't know. I have not heard of
+any depredations committed by him for two or three years now."
+
+"And I hope you never will," said Cicely with a shudder. "Kate, have you
+done all you want to do here? I should so like to finish that letter to
+send off by to-day's mail."
+
+"Then go. I'll just stay to lock up. You haven't much time if you want
+Sam Griffiths to take it this afternoon."
+
+Cicely jumped up without another word, and climbed the ladder.
+
+Kate lifted the case of fish-knives into the safe, and stretched out her
+hand for the other articles without turning her head. She felt her hand
+clutched as in a vice by fingers cold as ice. She turned sharply round.
+Cicely was at her side with lips and cheeks devoid of colour.
+
+"Good gracious, Cicely! what is the matter? How you startled me!" said
+Kate in a vexed tone.
+
+Cicely laid one cold, trembling, finger upon her cousin's lips.
+
+"He has seen us--he has been looking down on us," was all she could
+articulate.
+
+"Who? What do you mean?" But Kate's voice was considerably lowered.
+
+"The bushranger Wolfgang. He--he has seen all the silver!"
+
+Kate broke into a nervous laugh. "I think you are dreaming, Cicely. How
+do you know you saw Wolfgang? And how could he see us down here?"
+
+"It is no dream," answered Cicely in the same husky whisper. "Kate, as I
+climbed the ladder quickly I saw the face of a man disappear from the
+trap-door, but not before I caught sight of the forefinger missing off
+the hand that held one side of the trap-door. Kate, Kate, it was
+Wolfgang. He has been staring down at us."
+
+Kate looked up wildly at the opening above. It was free from all
+intruders now. She locked every article into the safe without uttering a
+word; then said, "Come."
+
+Together they mounted the ladder; together they latched down the
+trap-door; together they left the counting-house.
+
+"Tell Sam to ride to the shed and ask Mr. Wentworth to come to me at
+once--at once." Kate gave the order in a calm voice to the one woman
+servant that did the work in the house.
+
+"Sam isn't in the yards," was the answer. "He told me three hours ago
+that he was wanted by Mr. Wentworth to ride to the township for
+something or other. He was in a fine way about it, for he said it was
+taking him from his work here."
+
+Some of Kate's calm left her. She looked round at the helpless
+women--three now, for her aunt had joined them.
+
+"Aunt," she said, forcing herself to speak quietly, "I have fears that
+this afternoon we shall be attacked by bushrangers. Unfortunately Sam
+has been called away, and he is the only man we have on the premises.
+There is not another within reach, except at the shearing-shed, and you
+know where that is. Which of you will venture to ride there for help? I
+dare not go, for I must protect the house."
+
+She glanced at each of the three faces in turn, and saw no help there.
+Becky, the servant, had utterly collapsed at the word bushranger; the
+other two faces looked as if carved in stone.
+
+"Kate, Kate, is there no other help near?"
+
+"Not nearer than the shearing-shed, aunt."
+
+"I daren't go. I couldn't ride that distance."
+
+"Cicely?" Kate's tone was imploring.
+
+"Don't ask me," and Cicely burst into a flood of tears.
+
+"We must defend ourselves, then."
+
+The Australian girl's voice was quiet, albeit it trembled slightly.
+
+"Come to the counting-house. Becky, you come too. We must barricade the
+place. I'll run round and fasten up every door. They will have a tough
+job to get in," she murmured grimly.
+
+How she thanked her father for the strong oak door! The oaken shutters
+with their massive iron clamps! It would seem as if he had expected a
+raid from bushrangers at some time or other in his life. The
+counting-house door was stronger than the others. She now understood the
+reason why. The room below had been taken into consideration when that
+door was put up.
+
+It was three o'clock in the afternoon. A broiling, sun-baking afternoon.
+They were prepared, sitting, as it were, in readiness for the attack
+they were momentarily expecting.
+
+It came at last. The voice that sounded outside the counting-house door
+took her back to the time when she was fifteen years of age. It was a
+strange, harsh voice, grating in its harshness, strange in being like no
+other. She remembered it to be the voice of the man that had challenged
+her father that memorable day--remembered it to be the voice of
+Wolfgang.
+
+Like an evil bird of prey had he scented from afar the silver stored
+under the trap-door, just as he had scented the sum of money her father
+had hidden away in the house.
+
+"It's no use your sheltering yourselves in there," said the voice. "We
+want to harm no one--it's against our principles. What we want is just
+the silver hidden under the counting-house, and we want nothing more."
+
+With one finger upraised, cautioning silence, Kate saw for the twentieth
+time to the priming of her rifle--the very rifle that had shot
+Wolfgang's chief man four years before. There was no need for her to
+caution her companions to silence. They knelt on the floor--a huddled,
+trembling trio.
+
+If only Kate could see how many men there were! But she could not.
+
+"It will take them some time to batter in that door," thought she, "and
+by that time, who knows, help may come from some unexpected quarter."
+
+"Do you dare to defy us?" said the voice again. "We know you are utterly
+helpless. Sam has been got out of the way by a cooked-up story, ditto
+your manager. They are both swearing in the broiling township by now."
+And the voice broke off with a loud "Ha! ha!"
+
+At which two other voices echoed "Ha! ha! ha! ha!"
+
+Kate strained her ears to catch the sounds. Were there only three, then,
+just as there had been three four years before?
+
+Then ensued a battering at the door, but it stood like a rock. They were
+tiring at that game. It hurt them, and did no good. There was silence
+for the space of some minutes, and then the sound of scraping reached
+Kate's ears.
+
+What were they doing now?
+
+It sounded on the roof of the counting-house. O God! they were never
+going to make an entrance that way!
+
+Scrape, scrape, scrape. The sound went on persistently.
+
+Kate's face was hidden in her hands. Was she praying? thought Cicely.
+Then she, too, lifted up a silent prayer for help in their time of need.
+
+Kate's voice whispering in her ear aroused her. "Come," she breathed.
+
+And with one accord, without a question, the three followed her
+silently.
+
+The room beyond the counting-house was up a narrow flight of stairs. It
+used to be called by Kate, in derision, "Father's observatory." Through
+a small pane of glass in this room she could see the roof of the
+counting-house.
+
+Sawing away at the wooden structure upon which he was perched sat
+Wolfgang himself, whilst the man beside him was busily engaged in
+removing the thatch piece by piece.
+
+Kate waited to see no more. Raising her rifle to her shoulder she
+fired--fired straight at the leading bushranger.
+
+She saw him stagger and roll--roll down the sloping roof, and fall with
+a dull thud to the ground below.
+
+She could only lean against the wall, and hide her face in her trembling
+hands. Was he dead? Had she killed him? Or had the fall off the house
+completed the deed?
+
+She felt a hand on her arm. Becky was standing beside her. "Give me the
+rifle," she breathed. "I can load it."
+
+With a faint feeling of surprise at her heart, Kate handed her the
+weapon with fingers slightly unsteady. She received it back in silence,
+and mounted to her place of observation again.
+
+Wolfgang's companion was crouching. His attitude struck Kate
+disagreeably. His back was turned to her. What was he looking at?
+
+She strained her eyes, and descried, galloping at the top of his speed,
+Black Bounce, and on his back was Phil Wentworth. Behind him at
+breakneck pace came six of the shearers--tall, brawny men, the very
+sight of whom inspired courage.
+
+Wentworth's rifle was raised. A shot rang through the air. Then another.
+And yet another. Bang! bang! bang! What had happened?
+
+Kate, straining her eyes, only knew that just as the manager's rifle
+went off, the bushranger on the roof had fired at him, not, however,
+before Kate's shot disabled him in the arm, thus preventing his aim from
+covering the manager.
+
+"Thank God, thank God, we are saved!" she cried.
+
+And now that the danger was over, Kate sank down upon the floor of the
+"observatory," and sobbed as if her heart would break.
+
+Becky--her bravery returning as the sound of horses' hoofs struck upon
+her ear--slipped from the room, leaving Mrs. Grieves and Cicely to play
+the part of consolers to her young mistress.
+
+It appeared that a trumped-up story, purporting to come from one of his
+friends in the township, had caused Phil Wentworth to go there that
+morning, and that on his way he overtook Sam Griffiths, who grumpily
+asked him why he should have been ordered to the township when his hands
+were so full of work at home. This led the young manager to scent
+something wrong, and telling Griffiths to follow him home quickly he
+rode straight back to the shed, and getting some of the shearers to
+accompany him, made straight tracks for the house.
+
+Mrs. Grieves and Cicely had by this time had as much as they cared for
+of bush life, and very shortly after announced that the Australian
+climate did not suit either Cicely or herself as she had hoped it might,
+and that they had made up their minds to return to England.
+
+"I hope they intend to take their silver away with them," said the
+manager when Kate told him.
+
+She replied with a laugh, "Oh yes, I don't believe aunt would think life
+worth living if she had not her silver with her."
+
+Poor Aunt Grieves! the vessel she travelled by had to be abandoned
+before it reached England, and the silver she had suffered so much for
+lies buried in the sands of the deep.
+
+As for Kate, she subsequently took Philip Wentworth into partnership,
+and he gave her his name.
+
+
+
+
+BILLJIM.
+
+BY S. LE SOTGILLE.
+
+
+Nestling in the scrub at the head of a gully running into the Newanga
+was a typical Australian humpy. It was built entirely of bark. Roof,
+back, front, and sides were huge sheets of stringy bark, and the window
+shutters were of the same, the windows themselves being sheets of
+calico; also the two doors were whole sheets of bark swung upon leathern
+hinges.
+
+The humpy was divided into three rooms, two bedrooms and a general room.
+The "galley" was just outside, a three-sided, roofed arrangement, and
+the ubiquitous bark figured in that adjunct of civilisation.
+
+In springtime the roof and sides of this humpy were one huge blaze of
+Bougainvillæa, and not a vestige of bark was visible. It was surrounded
+by a paling fence, rough split bush palings only, but in every way
+fitted for what they were intended to do--that is, keep out animals of
+all descriptions.
+
+In the front garden were flowers of every conceivable hue and variety,
+from the flaring giant sunflower to the quiet retiring geranium, and
+stuck to old logs and standing dead timber were several beautiful
+orchids of different varieties. Violets, pansies, fuchsias and
+nasturtiums bordered the walks in true European fashion, and one
+wondered who had taken all this trouble in so outlandish a spot.
+
+At the back of the humpy rose the Range sheer fifteen hundred feet with
+huge granite boulders, twice the size of the humpy itself, standing
+straight out from the side of the Range, giving one the idea that they
+were merely stuck there in some mysterious manner, and were ready at a
+moment's notice to come tumbling down, overwhelming every one and
+everything in their descent.
+
+On the other three sides was scrub. Dense tropical scrub for miles,
+giving out a muggy disagreeable heat, and that peculiar overpowering
+smell common, I think, to all tropical growth. No one could have chosen
+a better spot than this if his desire were to escape entirely from the
+busy world and live a quiet sequestered life amongst the countless
+beautiful gifts that Dame Nature seems so lavish of in the hundred nooks
+and corners of the mountainous portion of Australia. In this humpy,
+then, hidden from the world in general, and known only to a few miners
+and prospectors, lived Dick Benson, his wife, and their daughter
+Billjim. That is what she was called, anyway, by all the diggers on the
+Newanga. It wasn't her name, of course. She was registered at Clagton
+Court House as Katherine Veronica Benson, but no one in all the district
+thought of calling her Kitty now, and as for Veronica--well, it was too
+much to ask of any one, let alone a rough bushman.
+
+The name Billjim she practically chose herself.
+
+One evening a digger named Jack L'Estrange, a great friend of the
+Bensons, was reading an article from the _Bulletin_ to her father, and
+Kitty, as she was then called, was whiling away the time by pulling his
+moustache, an occupation which interfered somewhat with the reading, but
+which was allowed to pass without serious rebuke.
+
+In this article the paper spoke of backblocks bushmen under the generic
+soubriquet of Billjim. And a very good name too, for in any up-country
+town one has but to sing out "Bill" or "Jim" to have an answer from
+three-fourths of the male population.
+
+The name tickled Kitty immensely, and she chuckled, "Billjim! Billjim!
+Oh, I'd like to be called that."
+
+"Would you though?" asked her father, smiling.
+
+"Yes," answered Kitty; "it's a fine name, Billjim."
+
+"Well, we will call you Billjim in future," said Dick; and from that day
+the name stuck to her. And it suited her.
+
+She was the wildest of wild bush girls. At twelve years old she could
+ride and shoot as well as most of us, and would pan out a prospect with
+any man on the Newanga.
+
+She had never been to school, there being none nearer than Clagton,
+which was some fifteen miles away, but she had been taught the simple
+arts of reading and writing by her mother, and Jack L'Estrange had
+ministered to her wants in the matter of arithmetic.
+
+With all her wildness she was a good, kindly girl, materially helping
+her mother in the household matters, and all that flower garden was her
+special charge and delight.
+
+Wednesday and Thursday of every week were holidays, and those two days
+were spent by Billjim in roaming the country far and wide. Sometimes on
+horseback, when a horse could be borrowed, but mostly on her own
+well-formed feet.
+
+She would wander off with a shovel and a dish into the scrub, and,
+following up some gully all day, would return at night tired out and
+happy, and generally with two or three grains of gold to show for her
+day's work. Sometimes she would come back laden with some new orchid,
+and this she would carefully fix in the garden in a position as similar
+as possible to that in which she had found it, and usually it would
+blossom there as if it were thankful at being so well cared for.
+
+When Billjim wasn't engaged making her pocket-money, as she termed it,
+her days would be spent with Jack L'Estrange.
+
+Jack was a fine, strapping young fellow of twenty-three, and was doing
+as well on the Newanga as any. Since the day he had snatched Billjim
+(then a wee mite) from the jaws of an alligator, as Queensland folk will
+insist upon calling their crocodile, he had been _l'ami de la maison_ at
+the Bensons', and Billjim thought there was no one in the world like
+him. He in return would do any mortal thing which that rather capricious
+young lady desired.
+
+One evening, when they were all sitting chatting round the fire in the
+galley, Benson said:
+
+"Don't you think, Jack, that Billjim ought to go to some decent school?
+The missus and me of course ain't no scholars, but now that we can
+afford it we'd like Billjim to learn proper, you know."
+
+Jack looked at Billjim, who had nestled up closer to him during this
+speech, and was on the point of answering in the negative, when less
+selfish thoughts entered his head, and he replied:
+
+"Well, Dick, much against my inclination, I must say that I think she
+ought to go. You see," he continued, turning to Billjim and taking her
+hand, "it's this way. We should all miss you, lass, very much, but it's
+for your own good. You must know more than we here can teach you if you
+wish to be any good to your father and mother."
+
+Billjim nodded and looked at him, and Jack had to turn his eyes away and
+speak to Mrs. Benson for fear of going back on his words.
+
+"You see, Mrs. Benson," said Jack, "it wouldn't be for long, for Billjim
+would learn very quickly with good teachers, and be of great use to you
+when Dick makes that pile."
+
+Mrs. Benson smiled in spite of herself when Jack mentioned "that pile."
+Dick had been going to strike it rich up there on the Newanga for over
+seven years, and the fortune hadn't come yet.
+
+"I suppose you're right," she said, "and I'm sure Billjim will be a good
+girl and study quick to get back. Won't you, lass?"
+
+"Yes'm," answered Billjim, with a reservoir of tears in her voice, but
+none in her eyes. She wouldn't have cried with Jack there for the world!
+
+So after a lot of talking it was settled, and Billjim departed for
+school, and the humpy knew her no more for four long years.
+
+Ah! what a dreary, dreary time that was to Mrs. Benson and Dick. Jack
+kept her flower garden going for all those years, and Snowy, her dog,
+lived down at his camp. These had been Billjim's last commands.
+
+Dick worked away manfully looking for that pile, and succeeded passing
+well, as the account at Clagton Bank could show, but there was no
+alteration made at the "Nest," as the humpy was designated.
+
+Jack passed most of his evenings up there, and on mail days was in great
+request to read Billjim's epistles out loud.
+
+No matter who was there, those letters were read out, and some of us who
+knew Billjim well passed encouraging remarks about her improvement, etc.
+
+We all missed her, for she had been used to paying periodical flying
+visits, and her face had always seemed to us like a bright gleam of
+sunshine breaking through that steaming, muggy, damp scrub.
+
+One mail day, four years very near to the day after Billjim's departure,
+the usual letter was read out, and part of it ran so:
+
+"Oh, mum dear, do let me come back now. I am sure I have learned enough,
+and oh! how I long for a sight of you and dad, and dear old Jack and
+Frenchy, and Jim Travers, and all of you in fact. Let me come, oh! do
+let me come back."
+
+Upon my word, I believe there was a break in Jack's voice as he read.
+Mrs. Benson was crying peacefully, and Dick and French were blowing
+their noses in an offensive and boisterous manner.
+
+A motion was put and carried forthwith that Billjim should return at
+once. Newanga couldn't go on another month like this. Quite absurd to
+think of it.
+
+The letter was dispatched telling Billjim of the joyful news, and
+settling accounts with the good sisters who had sheltered and cared for
+her so long.
+
+Great were the preparations for Dick's journey to the coast to meet her
+when the time came. So great was the excitement that a newcomer thought
+some great reef had been struck, and followed several of us about for
+days trying to discover its location and get his pegs in!
+
+Every one wanted to lend something for Billjim's comfort on the journey
+out. No lady's saddle was there in all the camp, and great was Dick's
+trouble thereat, until Frenchy rigged his saddle up with a bit of wood
+wrapped round with a piece of blanket, which, firmly fixed to the front
+dees, did duty for a horn.
+
+"It's a great idea, Frenchy," said Dick; "but, lord, I'd ha' sent her
+the money for one if I'd only ha' thought of it, but, bless you, I was
+thinking of her as a little girl yet."
+
+'Twas a great day entirely, as Micky the Rat put it, when Billjim came
+home.
+
+Every digger for miles round left work and made a bee-line from his
+claim to the road, and patiently waited there to get a hand-shake and a
+smile from their friend Billjim, and they all got both, and went back
+very grateful and very refreshed.
+
+Billjim had turned into a pretty woman in those four years, and I think
+every one was somewhat staggered by it.
+
+Jack L'Estrange's first meeting with his one-time playmate was at the
+Nest, and it so threw Jack off his balance that he was practically
+maudlin for a week after the event.
+
+When he entered the door he stood at first spell-bound at the change in
+his favourite, then he said:
+
+"Why, Bill--er Kate, I.... 'Pon my word, I don't know what to say. Oh,
+Christopher! you know this is comical; I came up here intending to kiss
+my little friend Billjim, and I find you grown into a beautiful woman."
+
+"Kiss me, Jack?" broke in Billjim; "kiss me? Why, I'm going to hug you!"
+And she did, and Jack blushed to the roots of his curly golden hair, and
+was confused all the evening over it.
+
+The four years' schooling had not changed Billjim one iota as far as
+character went. She was the identical Billjim grown big and grown
+pretty, that was all.
+
+But something was to happen which was to turn the wild tom-boy into a
+serious woman, and it happened shortly after her return home.
+
+It was mail night up at the Nest, and Jack L'Estrange was absent from
+the crowd that invariably spent an hour or two getting their mail and
+discussing items of grave interest. Being mail night, Jack's absence was
+naturally noticed, and every one made some remark about it.
+
+However, old Dick said: "Oh, Jack's struck some good thing, I suppose,
+and got back to camp too late to come up. He'll come in the morning
+likely."
+
+This seemed to satisfy every one save Billjim. She turned to Frenchy,
+and said:
+
+"Do you know whereabouts Jack was working lately?"
+
+"Yes," answered Frenchy. "He was working at the two mile, day before
+yesterday, so I suppose he's there yet."
+
+"Yes," said Billjim, "I suppose he will be." But Billjim wasn't
+satisfied. When every one was asleep she was out, and knowing the scrub
+thoroughly, was over to Jack's camp in a quarter of an hour. Not finding
+Jack there, she made for the two mile with all speed, for something told
+her she knew not what. An undefinable feeling that something was wrong
+came across her. She saw Jack lying crushed and bleeding and no one
+there to help him! Do what she would, dry, choking sobs burst from her
+tight-closed lips as she scrambled along over boulders and through the
+thick scrub. Brambles, wait-a-bit vines, and berry bushes scratched and
+stung her, and switched across her face, leaving bleeding and livid
+marks on her tender skin. But she pushed on and on in the fitful
+moonlight through the dense undergrowth, making a straight line for the
+two mile.
+
+Arrived there, she stopped for breath for a while, and then sent forth a
+long "Coo-ie." No answer. "I was right," thought Billjim, "he is hurt.
+My God! he may be dead out here, while we were there chatting and
+laughing as usual. Oh, Jack, Jack!"
+
+Up the gully she sped, from one abandoned working to another, over
+rocks and stones, into water-holes, with no thought for herself. At
+last, there, huddled up against the bank, with a huge boulder pinning
+one leg to the ground, lay poor Jack L'Estrange.
+
+Billjim's first impression was that he was dead, he looked so limp and
+white out in the open there with the moon shining on his face, but when
+her accustomed courage returned she stooped over him and found him
+alive, but unconscious.
+
+She bathed his temples with water, murmuring:
+
+"Jack dear, wake up. Oh, my own lad, wake up and tell me what to do."
+
+Jack opened his eyes at last, as if her soft crooning had reached his
+numbed senses.
+
+"Halloa, Billjim," he said faintly. "Is that you or a dream?"
+
+"It's me, Jack," replied Billjim, flinging school talk to the four
+winds. "It's me. What can I do? How can I help? Are you suffering much?"
+
+"Well," said Jack, "you can't shift that boulder, that's certain, for
+I've tried until I went off. It's not paining now much, seems numbed. Do
+you think you could fetch the boys? Get Frenchy especially; he knows
+something about bandaging and that. It's a case with the leg, I think."
+
+"All right, dear," said Billjim; and the "dear" slipped out unawares,
+but she went on hurriedly to cover the slip: "Yes, I'll get Frenchy and
+Travers, Tate and Micky the Rat; they all live close together. You won't
+faint again, Jack, will you? See, I'll leave this pannikin here with
+water. Keep up your pecker, we shan't be long," and she was gone to hide
+the tears in her eyes, and the choke in her voice. "It's a case with the
+leg" was too much for her.
+
+She was at Frenchy's camp in a very short time. Frenchy was at his fire,
+dreaming. When he saw who his visitor was he was startled, to say the
+least of it.
+
+"What, Billjim the Beautiful? At this hour of night? Why, what in the
+name of...?" were his incoherent ejaculations.
+
+And Billjim for the first time in that eventful night really gave way.
+She sat down and sobbed out:
+
+"Oh, Frenchy.... Come.... Poor Jack.... Two mile ... crushed and
+bleeding to death, Frenchy.... I saw the blood oozing out.... Oh, dear
+me!... Get the boys ... come...."
+
+Frenchy's only answer was a long, melodious howl, which was promptly
+re-echoed from right and left and far away back in the scrub, and from
+all sides forms hurried up clad in all sorts of strange night costumes.
+
+Some shrank back into the shadows again on seeing a woman sitting at the
+fire sobbing, but one and all as they hurried up asked:
+
+"What's up? Niggers?"
+
+They were told, and each hurried back for clothes. Frenchy got his
+bandages together, and fetched his bunk out of his tent.
+
+"We'll take this," he said; "it's as far from Jack's camp to the two
+mile as it is from here. Now then, Billjim, off we go."
+
+Her followers had to keep moving to keep near her, loaded as they were,
+but at last they arrived at the scene of Jack's disaster.
+
+Jack was conscious when they arrived, and Frenchy whipped out a brandy
+flask and put it in Billjim's hand, saying:
+
+"Give him a dose every now and again while we mend matters. Sit down
+there facing him. That's right. Now, chaps!"
+
+With a will the great piece of granite was moved from off the crushed
+and bleeding limb. With deft fingers Frenchy had the trouser leg ripped
+up above the knee, and then appeared a horribly crushed, shattered
+thigh. Frenchy shook his head dolefully. "Any one got a small penknife?
+Ivory or smooth-handled one for preference," he demanded.
+
+"You're not going to cut him?" queried Billjim, without turning her
+head.
+
+"No, no," said Frenchy; "I want it to put against the vein and stop this
+bleeding. That'll do nicely," as Travers handed him a knife. "Sit
+tight, Jack, I must hurt you now."
+
+"Go ahead," said Jack uneasily; "but don't be longer than you can help,"
+and he caught hold of Billjim's hand and remained like that, quiet and
+sensible, while Frenchy put a ligature round the injured limb and
+bandaged it up as well as was possible.
+
+"Now, mates," he said, as he finished, "this is a case for Clagton and
+the doctor at once. No good one going in and fetching the doctor out,
+it's waste of time, and then he mightn't be able to do anything. So we
+must pack him on that stretcher and carry him in. Everybody willing?"
+
+Aye, of course they were, though they knew they had fifteen miles to
+carry a heavy man over gullies and rocks and through scrub and forest.
+
+So Jack was carefully placed on the stretcher.
+
+"Now you had better get home, Billjim, and tell them what has happened,"
+said Frenchy.
+
+"No, no, I won't," said Billjim; "I'm going with you;" and go she did,
+of course, holding Jack's hand all the way, and administering small
+doses of brandy whenever she was ordered. "La Vivandière," as Frenchy
+remarked, sotto voce, "but with a heart! Grand Dieu, with what a heart!"
+
+It was a great sight to see that gallant little band carrying twelve
+stone of helpless humanity in the moonlight.
+
+Through scrub, over rocks and gullies, and through weird white gum
+forest, and no sound but the laboured breathing of the bearers. There
+were twelve of them, and they carried four and four about, those fifteen
+miles.
+
+Never a groan out of the poor fellow up aloft there, though he must have
+suffered agonies when any one stumbled, which was bound to occur pretty
+often in that dim light.
+
+Slowly but surely they covered the distance, and just as day began to
+dawn they reached the doctor's house at Clagton.
+
+In a very little time Jack was lying on a couch in the surgery.
+
+After some questions the doctor said:
+
+"Too weak. Can't do anything just now."
+
+"It's a case, I suppose?" asked Frenchy.
+
+"Yes," said the doctor; "amputation, of course, and I have no one here
+to help me. Stay, though! Who bandaged him?"
+
+"I did," answered Frenchy; "I learnt that in hospitals, you know."
+
+"Oh, well," said the doctor, quite relieved, "you'll do to help me. Go
+and get a little sleep, and come this afternoon."
+
+"Right you are," said Frenchy. "Come on, Billjim. Can't do any good here
+just now. I'll take you to Mother Slater's."
+
+Billjim gave one look at Jack, who nodded and smiled, and then went away
+with Frenchy.
+
+For three weeks after the operation Jack L'Estrange lay hovering on the
+brink of the great chasm. Then he began to mend and get well rapidly.
+
+Billjim was in constant attendance from the day she was allowed to see
+him, and the doctor said, in fact, that but for her care and attention
+there would probably have been no more Jack.
+
+Great was the rejoicing at the Nest when Jack reappeared, and the
+rejoicing turned to enthusiasm when it was discovered that there was a
+mutual understanding come to between Billjim and the crippled miner.
+
+Micky the Rat prophesied great things, but said:
+
+"Faix, 'tis a distressful thing entirely to see a fine gurrl like that
+wid a husband an' he wed on wan leg. 'Twas mesilf Billjim should ha'
+tuk, no less."
+
+But we all knew Micky the Rat, you see.
+
+The wedding-day will never be forgotten by those who were on the Newanga
+at the time.
+
+The event came off at Clagton, and everybody was there. No invitations
+were issued. None were needed. The town came, and the miners from far
+and near, _en masse_.
+
+Those who couldn't get a seat squatted in true bush fashion with their
+wide-brimmed hats in their hands, and listened attentively to the
+service; a lot of them never having entered a church door in their lives
+before.
+
+At the feast, before the newly married couple took their departure,
+everybody was made welcome. It was a great time.
+
+Old Dick got up to make a speech, and failed ignominiously. He looked at
+Billjim for inspiration. She was just the identical person he shouldn't
+have looked at, for thoughts of the Nest without Billjim again rose
+before him, and those thoughts settled him, so he sat down again without
+uttering a word.
+
+Jack said something, almost inaudible, about seeking a fortune and
+finding one, which was prettily put, and Frenchy as best man was heard
+to mutter something about "Beautiful ... loss to camp ... happiness ...
+wooden leg," and the speech making was over.
+
+At the send off much rice flew about, and as the buggy drove off, an old
+dilapidated iron-shod miner's boot was found dangling on the rear axle
+of that conveyance.
+
+That was Micky the Rat's parting shot at Jack for carrying Billjim away.
+
+Clagton was a veritable London for that night only. You couldn't throw a
+stone without hitting some one, and as a rule an artillery battery could
+have practised for hours in the main street without hitting any one or
+anything, barring perhaps a stray dog.
+
+Things calmed down at last, however, and when the newly married returned
+and, adding to the Nest, lived there with the old couple, every one was
+satisfied. "Billjim" remained "Billjim" to all of us, and when a
+stranger expresses surprise at that, Billjim simply says, "Ah! but you
+see we are all mates here, aren't we, Jack?"
+
+
+
+
+IN THE WORLD OF FAERY.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGENDS OF LANGAFFER.
+
+BY MADAME ARMAND CAUMONT.
+
+
+I.
+
+THE TINY FOLK OF LANGAFFER.
+
+
+Langaffer was but a village in those days, with a brook running through
+it, a bridge, a market-place, a score of houses, and a church.
+
+It may have become a city since, and may have changed its name. We
+cannot tell. All we know is, that the curious things we are about to
+relate took place a long time ago, before there was any mention of
+railroads or gaslamps, or any of the modern inventions people have
+nowadays.
+
+There was one cottage quite in the middle of the village, much smaller,
+cleaner, and neater than its neighbours. The little couple who lived in
+it were known over the country, far and wide, as "Wattie and Mattie, the
+tiny folk of Langaffer."
+
+These two had gone and got married, if you please, when they were quite
+young, without asking anybody's advice or permission. Whereupon their
+four parents and their eight grandparents sternly disowned them; and the
+Fairy of the land, highly displeased, declared the two should remain
+tiny, as a punishment for their folly.
+
+Yet they loved one another very tenderly, Wattie and Mattie; and, as the
+years rolled by, and never a harsh word was heard between them, and
+peace and unity reigned in their diminutive household--which could not
+always have been said of their parents' and grandparents'
+firesides--why, then the neighbours began to remark that they were a
+good little couple; and the Fairy of the land declared that if they
+could but distinguish themselves in some way, or perform some great
+action, they might be allowed to grow up after all.
+
+"But how could we ever do a great deed?" said Wattie to Mattie,
+laughing. "Look at the size of us! I defy any man in the village, with
+an arm only the length of mine, to do more than I! Of course I can't
+measure myself with the neighbours. To handle Farmer Fairweather's
+pitchfork would break my back, and to hook a great perch, like Miller
+Mealy, in the mill-race, might be the capsizing of me. Still, what does
+that matter? I can catch little sprats for my little wife's dinner; I
+can dig in our patch of garden, and mend our tiny roof, so that we live
+as cosily and as merrily as the best of them."
+
+"To be sure, Wattie dear!" said Mattie. "And what would become of poor
+me supposing thou wert any bigger? As it is, I can bake the little
+loaves thou lovest to eat, and I can spin and knit enough for us both.
+But, oh, dear! wert thou the size of Farmer Fairweather or Miller Mealy,
+my heart would break."
+
+In truth the little couple had made many attempts at pushing their
+fortune in the village; and had failed, because it was no easy problem
+to find a trade to suit poor Wattie. A friendly cobbler had taught him
+how to make boots and shoes, new soling and mending; and he once had the
+courage to suspend over his door the sign of a shoemaker's shop. Then
+the good wives of Langaffer did really give him orders for tiny slippers
+for their little ones to toddle about in. But, alas! ere the work was
+completed and sent home, the little feet had got time to trot about a
+good deal, and had far outgrown the brand-new shoes; and poor Wattie
+acquired the character of a tardy tradesman. "So shoemaking won't do,"
+he had said to Mattie. "If only the other folk would remain as little as
+we are!"
+
+In spite of this, Wattie and Mattie not only continued to be liked by
+their neighbours, but in time grew to be highly respected by all who
+knew them. Wattie could talk a great deal, and could give a reason for
+everything; and his dwarf figure might be seen of an evening sitting on
+the edge of the bridge wall, surrounded by a group of village worthies,
+whilst his shrill little voice rose high above theirs, discussing the
+affairs of Langaffer. And little Mattie was the very echo of little
+Wattie. What _he_ said _she_ repeated on his authority in many a
+half-hour's gossip with the good wives by the village well.
+
+Now it happened that one day the homely community of Langaffer was
+startled by sudden and alarming tidings. A traveller, hastening on foot
+through the village, asked the first person he met, "What news of the
+war?"
+
+"What war?" returned the simple peasant in some surprise.
+
+"Why, have you really heard nothing of the great armies marching about
+all over the country, attacking, besieging and fighting in pitched
+battles--the king and all his knights and soldiers against the enemies
+of the country--ah, and it is not over yet! But I wonder to find all so
+tranquil here in the midst of such troublous times!" And then the
+stranger passed on; and his words fell on the peaceful hamlet like a
+stone thrown into the bosom of a tranquil lake.
+
+At once there was a general commotion and excitement among the village
+folk. "Could the news be true? How dreadful if the enemy were indeed to
+come and burn down their homesteads, and ravage their crops, and kill
+them every one with their swords!"
+
+That night the gossip lasted a long time on Langaffer Bridge. Wattie's
+friends, the miller and the grocer, the tailor and the shoemaker, and
+big Farmer Fairweather spoke highly of the king and his faithful
+knights, and clenched their fists, and raised their voices to an angry
+pitch at the mention of the enemy's name. And little Wattie behaved like
+the rest of them, strutted about, and doubled up his tiny hands, and
+proclaimed what he should do if Langaffer were attacked--and "if he were
+only a little bigger!" Whereupon the neighbours laughed and held their
+sides, and cried aloud, "Well done, Wattie!"
+
+But the following evening brought more serious tidings. Shortly before
+nightfall a rider, mounted on a sweltering steed, arrived at the village
+inn, all out of breath, to announce that the army was advancing, and
+that the General of the Forces called upon every householder in
+Langaffer to furnish food and lodging for the soldiers.
+
+"What! _Soldiers_ quartered on us!" cried the good people of Langaffer.
+"Who ever heard the like?"
+
+"They shall not come to _my_ house!" exclaimed Farmer Fairweather
+resolutely.
+
+"Oh, neighbour Fairweather!" shouted half a dozen voices, "and thou hast
+such barns and lofts, and such very fine stables, and cowsheds, thou art
+the very one who canst easily harbour the soldiers."
+
+"As for _me_," cried the miller, "I have barely room for my meal-sacks!"
+
+"Oh, plenty of room!" screamed the others, "and flour to make bread for
+the troopers, and bran for the horses!"
+
+"But it falls very hard on poor people like us!" cried the weaver, the
+tinker, the cobbler and tailor; upon which little Wattie raised his
+voice and began, "Shame on ye, good neighbours! Do ye grudge hospitality
+to the warriors who go forth to shed their blood in our defence? Every
+man, who has strength of body and limb, ought to feel it an honour to
+afford food and shelter to the army of the land!"
+
+"_Thy_ advice is cheap, Wattie!" cried several voices sarcastically,
+"thou and thy tiny wife escape all this trouble finely. For the general
+would as soon dream of quartering a soldier on dwarfs as on the sparrows
+that live on the housetops!"
+
+"And what if we are small," retorted Wattie, waxing scarlet, "we have
+never shirked from our duty yet, and never intend to do so."
+
+This boast of the little man's had the effect of silencing some of the
+most dissatisfied; and then the people of Langaffer dispersed for the
+night, every head being full of the morrow's preparations.
+
+"Eh, Wattie dear," said Mattie to her husband, when the two were
+retiring to sleep in their cosy little house, "we may bless ourselves
+this night that we are not reckoned amongst the big people, and that our
+cottage is so small no full-grown stranger would try to enter it."
+
+"But we must do something, Mattie dear," said Wattie. "You can watch the
+women washing and cooking all day to-morrow, whilst I encourage the men
+in the market-place and on the bridge. These are great times, Mattie!"
+
+"Indeed they are, Wattie dear." And so saying, the little couple fell
+fast asleep.
+
+The following morning Langaffer village presented a lively picture of
+bustle and excitement. Soldiers in gaudy uniforms, and with gay-coloured
+banners waving in the breeze, marched in to the sound of trumpet and
+drum. How their spears and helmets glittered in the sunshine, and what a
+neighing and prancing their steeds made in the little market-square! The
+men and women turned out to receive them, the children clapped their
+hands with delight, and the village geese cackled loudly to add to the
+stir.
+
+Wattie was there looking on, with his hands in his pockets. But nobody
+heeded him now. They were all too busy, running here, running there,
+hastening to and fro, carrying long-swords and shields, holding horses'
+heads, stamping, tramping, scolding and jesting. Little Wattie was more
+than once told to stand aside, and more than once got pushed about and
+mixed up with the throng of idle children, whose juvenile curiosity kept
+them spell-bound, stationed near the village inn.
+
+Wattie began to feel lonely in the midst of the commotion. A humiliating
+sense of his own weakness and uselessness crept over him; and the poor
+little dwarf turned away from it all, and wandered out of the village,
+far away through the meadows, and into a lonely wood.
+
+On and on he went, unconscious of the distance, till night closed in,
+when, heartsick and weary, he flung his little body down at the foot of
+a majestic oak, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+He had not lain long when he was startled by a sound close at hand; a
+sigh, much deeper than his own, and a half-suppressed moan--what could
+it be?
+
+In an instant Wattie was on his feet, peering to right and left, trying
+to discover whence those signs of distress proceeded.
+
+The moon had just risen, and by her pale light he fancied he saw
+something glitter among the dried leaves of the forest. Cautiously
+little Wattie crept closer; and there, to his astonishment, lay extended
+the form of a knight in armour. He rested on his elbow, and his head was
+supported by his arm, and his face, which was uncovered, wore an
+expression of sadness and anxiety. He gazed with an air of calm dignity
+rather than surprise on the dwarf, when the latter, after walking once
+or twice round him, cried out, "Noble knight, noble knight, pray what is
+your grief, and can I do aught to relieve it? Say, wherefore these
+groans and sighs?"
+
+"Foes and traitors, sorrow and shame!" returned the warrior. "But tell
+me, young man, canst thou show me the road to Langaffer?"
+
+"That I can, noble sir," answered Wattie, impressed by the stranger's
+tone. "Do I not dwell in Langaffer myself!"
+
+"Then perhaps, young man, thou knowest the Castle of Ravenspur?"
+
+"The ruined tower of Count Colin of Ravenspur!" cried Wattie, "why, that
+is close to Langaffer. Our village folk call it 'the fortress' still,
+although wild and dismantled since the time it was forsaken by----"
+
+"Name not Count Colin to me!" cried the knight, impatiently. "The base
+traitor that left his own land to join hands with the enemy! His sable
+plume shall ne'er again wave in his own castle-yard!... But come,
+hasten, young man, and guide me straight to Ravenspur. Our men, you say,
+are encamped at Langaffer?"
+
+"That they are," returned Wattie; "well-nigh every house is filled with
+them. They arrived in high spirits this morning; and doubtless, by this
+time, are sleeping as heavily as they were carousing an hour ago."
+
+"All the better," cried the knight, "for it will be a different sort of
+sleep some of them may have ere the morrow's setting sun glints through
+the stems of these forest trees! And now, let us hasten to Ravenspur."
+
+So saying, he drew himself up to his full height, lifted his sword from
+the ground and hung it on his side, and strode away with Wattie, looking
+all the while like a great giant in company of a puny dwarf.
+
+As they emerged from the forest Wattie pointed with his finger across
+the plain to the village of Langaffer, and then to a hill overhanging
+it, crowned by a fortress which showed in the distance its chiselled
+outlines against the evening sky. An hour's marching across the country
+brought them close to the dismantled castle. The moonbeams depicted
+every grey stone overgrown with moss and ivy, and the rank weeds choking
+the apertures which once had been windows.
+
+"An abode for the bat and the owl," remarked Wattie, "but, brave sir,
+you cannot pass the night here. Pray--pray come to my tiny house in the
+village, and rest there till the morning dawns."
+
+"I accept thy hospitality, young man," said the warrior, "but first thou
+canst render me a service. Thou art little and light. Canst clamber up
+to yonder stone where the raven sits, and tell me what thou beholdest
+far away to the west?" Whereupon Wattie, who was agile enough, and
+anxious to help the stranger, began to climb up, stone by stone, the
+outer wall of the ruined fortress. A larger man might have felt giddy
+and insecure; but he, with his tiny figure, sprang from ledge to ledge
+so swiftly, holding firmly by the tufts of grass and the trailing ivy,
+that ere he had time to think of danger, he had reached the spot where,
+a moment before, a grim-looking raven had been keeping solemn custody.
+Here the stone moved, and Wattie fancied he heard something rattle as he
+set his foot upon it. The raven had now perched herself on a yet higher
+eminence, on a piece of the old coping-stone of the castle parapet; and
+she flapped her great ugly wings, and cawed and croaked, as if
+displeased at this intrusion on her solitude. Wattie followed the
+ill-omened bird, and drove her away from her vantage-ground, where he
+himself now found a better footing from which to make his observations.
+
+"To the west," he cried, "lights like camp-fires, all in a row far
+against the horizon!"
+
+This was all he had to describe; and it seemed enough to satisfy the
+armed stranger.
+
+"And now, young man," he said, when Wattie had, after a perilous
+descent, gained the castle-yard once more, "I shall be thy guest for the
+night."
+
+A thrill of pride and pleasure stole through Wattie's breast as he
+thought of the honour of receiving the tall warrior. But the next
+instant his heart was filled with anxiety as he remembered the tiny
+dimensions of his home, Mattie and himself.
+
+All these hours his little wife had passed in sore perplexity because of
+his absence. At the accustomed time for supper she had spread the
+snow-white napkin on the stool that served them for a table. She had
+piled up a saucerful of beef and lentils for Wattie, and filled him an
+egg-cupful of home-brewed ale to the brim. And yet he never came!
+
+What could ever have happened? A tiny little person like Wattie might
+have been trampled to death in the crowd of great soldiers that now
+filled Langaffer! A horse's kick at the village inn might have killed
+him! He might have been pushed into the stream and been drowned. Oh, the
+horrible fancies that vaguely hovered round poor Mattie's fireside! No
+wonder the little woman sat there with her face pale as ashes, her teeth
+chattering, and her tiny hands clasped tightly together.
+
+And thus Wattie found her when he returned at last, bringing the
+stranger knight along with him. But Mattie was so overjoyed to see her
+Wattie safe home, and held her arms so tightly round his neck, that he
+could scarcely get his story told.
+
+Little indeed did the good people of Langaffer, that night, asleep in
+their beds, dream of the great doings under the modest roof of Wattie
+and Mattie; all the furniture they possessed drawn out and joined
+together, and covered with the whole household stock of mattresses,
+quilts and blankets, to form a couch for their guest's repose.
+
+The knight had eaten all Mattie's store of newly-baked bread, and now
+only begged for a few hours' rest, and a little more water to quench his
+thirst when he should waken. As he took off his helmet with its great
+white plume, and handed it to Wattie, the latter staggered under its
+weight, and Mattie cried out, "Oh, Wattie, how beautiful, how noble it
+must be to ride o'er hill and dale in such a gallant armour!"
+
+Then thrice to the Fairy Well in the meadow beyond the bridge of
+Langaffer must Wattie and Mattie run to fetch water, the best in the
+land, clear as crystal, and cold as ice; for it required fully three
+times what they could carry to fill the great stone pitcher for the
+sleeping warrior.
+
+And the third time the two came to the spring, behold, the water bubbled
+and flashed with the colours of the rainbow, and by the light of the
+moon they caught a glimpse of something bright reflected on its surface.
+They glanced round, and there a lovely, radiant being sat by, with a
+tiny phial in her hand.
+
+"Hold here, little people!" she cried, "let me drop some cordial into
+the pitcher."
+
+"Nay, nay!" screamed Mattie.
+
+"Nay!" cried Wattie sternly, "the drink must be as pure as crystal."
+
+"For your noble warrior," added the fairy rising; "but the beverage will
+taste the sweeter with the drops that I put into it." And so saying, she
+stretched forth her hand, and shook the contents of her tiny flask into
+the pitcher; and her gay laugh rang merrily and scornfully through the
+midnight air.
+
+Wattie and Mattie, half-frightened, hastened homewards; and lo, when
+crossing the bridge, an old hag overtook them, and, as she hurried past,
+she uttered a spiteful laugh.
+
+"There is something strange in the air to-night," said Mattie. "See that
+weird old woman, and hark, Wattie, how Oscar, the miller's dog, barks at
+the moon."
+
+"Mattie," cried Wattie resolutely, "let us empty our pitcher into the
+mill-race, and go back once again, and draw afresh! 'Tis safer."
+
+So the tiny couple, weary and worn out as they were, trudged all the way
+to the Fairy Well once more to "make sure" that the stranger knight
+should come to no harm through their fault.
+
+And this time the water flowed clear and cold, but with no varied tints
+flashing through it. Only Wattie seemed to hear the stream rushing over
+the pebbles like a soft, lisping voice. "Hush! listen! what does it
+say?"
+
+"To me," cried Mattie, "it whispers, 'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' But
+that has no sense, Wattie dear. Come, let us go!"
+
+"And to me the same!" cried Wattie, "'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' That
+means something."
+
+It was now early dawn as the two passed over the bridge and by the
+miller's house, and they could see the fish floating _dead_ on the
+surface of the mill-race, and poor Oscar the dog lying stretched on the
+bank, with his tongue hanging out stiff and cold. And silently wondering
+at all these strange things the little couple finished their task.
+
+When the hour of noon arrived, the din of battle raged wild and fierce
+round the village of Langaffer. The enemies of the land had arrived from
+the west with false Colin at their head, and were met by the soldiers in
+the plain, below the Castle of Ravenspur. With a loud war-cry on either
+side foe rushed upon foe, and the fight began. Horsemen reeled over and
+tumbled from their chargers, blood flowed freely on every side, shrieks
+rent the air; but the strength of the combatants appeared equal. At last
+Count Colin and his men pressed closer on the royal army, and forced
+them back by degrees towards Langaffer.
+
+It seemed now that the enemy's troops were gaining; and groans of
+despair broke forth from the villagers and countryfolk who watched with
+throbbing hearts the issue of the day.
+
+At this moment the knight who had been little Wattie's guest dashed
+forward, mounted on a snow-white charger, his armour of polished steel
+glistening, and his fair plume waving in the sunshine.
+
+"Back with the faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the
+traitor!" he cried, and rode to the front rank himself.
+
+His word and action wrought like an enchantment on the soldiers. They
+rallied round the white-plumed stranger, who soon was face to face with
+false Colin. And then the hostile bands, with their rebel commander,
+were in turn driven back, and back, and back across the plain, and right
+under the beetling towers of the fortress of Ravenspur.
+
+Now Wattie was standing near the ruin, and saw the combat, and heard the
+sounds of the warriors' voices reverberating from the bend of the hill.
+How his heart bounded at the brave knight's battle-cry: "_Back with the
+faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the traitor!_" And then
+indeed the blood seemed to stand still in his veins when he heard false
+Colin exclaim, "Oh, had I the silver sword of Ravenspur!"
+
+Ah! Wattie remembered the raven, and the one loose stone in the castle
+wall.
+
+In another instant his tiny figure was grappling with the trailing ivy
+on the outer fencework of the fortress.
+
+And now he is seen by false Colin, and now the archers bend their bows,
+and the arrows fly past him on every side. But Wattie has hurled down a
+stone into the old courtyard, and, from behind it, has drawn forth a
+silver-hilted brand.
+
+"He is so small that our arrows all miss him!" cry the archers. "Nay,"
+cries false Colin, "but he bears the enchanted weapon of Ravenspur! Take
+it from him, my men, and fetch it to me."
+
+"Count Colin shall have the _point_ of the sword," cries Wattie, "but
+the silver handle is for the white-plumed knight!" and, running round
+the ledge of the castle wall to the highest turret, he flings the
+shining weapon down amongst the men of Langaffer.
+
+And now there was a fresh charge made on the enemy, and the "unknown
+warrior," armed with the newly-found talisman, stood face to face, hand
+to hand, with the traitor.
+
+... _Count Colin fell_, pierced through his armour of mail by the sword
+that once had been his! The enemy fled, and the victory was won.
+
+Then the stranger knight undid his visor, and took off his armour; and,
+as his golden locks floated down his shoulders, the soldiers cried out,
+"'Tis the King! 'tis the King!"
+
+Wattie was called forth by the King of all the Land, and was bidden to
+take the knightly helmet with its waving plume, and the shield, and the
+silver sword, and to wear them. The men of Langaffer laughed aloud; but
+Wattie did as he was commanded, and put on the knightly armour and
+weapons.
+
+And, behold at that moment he grew up into a great, strong warrior,
+worthy to wield them! He was knighted then and there, "Sir Walter of
+Ravenspur," and presented with the castle on the hill, which the king's
+own army repaired ere they quitted Langaffer.
+
+And then the King of all the Land sent a fair white robe, the size of
+the Queen's ladies'; and when little Mattie put this on, she grew up
+tall and stately to fit it. And, for many and many a year to come, she
+was known as the "Good Dame Martha, the faithful lady of Sir Walter of
+Ravenspur."
+
+
+II.
+
+THE KINGFISHER.
+
+
+Martin was a gardener, and lived in a cottage in the midst of a hamlet
+near Langaffer. All the country for miles round belonged to the old king
+and queen; and their beautiful palace was hard by the village, in a
+stately grove of elms and beech trees. Before the windows extended a
+lovely garden, which was kept in order by Martin. Here he toiled every
+day from morning-dawn till evening-dusk; and, in his own churlish
+manner, he had come to love the flowers that cost him so much labour.
+
+Like many another honest gardener, however, Martin found it very hard
+that he could not have his own way in this world, even as concerned his
+plants. For instance, the old monarch would come out every morning
+after breakfast in his dressing-gown and slippers, and would admire the
+bloom; but the very flowers he appeared to prize most were those that
+cost Martin least trouble, and which the gardener in his heart despised
+as cheap and vulgar.
+
+Then the queen and the young ladies were wont to appear on the terrace
+before dinner, with their little lapdogs, and call out for posies. They
+must have the finest tea-roses and moss-roses that were only in bud.
+Martin might grumble about to-morrow's "poor show," and point to some
+rare full-blown beauties--but no, they just desired those which were not
+yet opened.
+
+Moreover, there grew here and there in the garden a plant or shrub,
+which, Martin considered, would have been better removed; especially one
+large lauristinus, which, he declared, "destroyed all symmetry," and
+"hindered the flowers about it from enjoying the sunshine."
+
+But the old king obstinately opposed changes of this sort, and strictly
+forbade his gardener, on any pretext whatever, to remove the
+lauristinus; as it was well known at the court that for generations a
+spell was connected with this special shrub, and that therefore the less
+it was meddled with the better.
+
+All this interference tended to sour poor Martin's temper; but he
+himself declared it was nothing compared to the aggravating behaviour of
+Prince Primus, commonly called "Lord Lackaday," the king's eldest son.
+
+This young nobleman, who was renowned far and wide for his indolent
+habits, sauntered forth every day with a little boy carrying his
+fishing-tackle, away through the lovely gardens, without once turning
+his head to behold the brilliant parterres of "calceolarias,
+pelargoniums, petunias and begonias," or to inhale the sweet-scented
+heliotropes,--away through the park, and on to the river; for my Lord
+Lackaday's sole pastime was angling.
+
+"Humph! there he goes with his tackle," Martin would murmur, turning
+from tying up his carnations to stare after him. "If old Martin, now,
+were to spend _his_ days lying stretched _his_ full length on the
+grass, with a rod dangling in the water before him, what would the world
+come to? And where would _you_ be, my beauties?" he added, continuing
+his occupation. "Hanging your lovely heads, my darlings!" And so he
+grumbled and mumbled in an undertone to himself the whole livelong day,
+until he went home to his supper at night; when his good wife, Ursula,
+would endeavour to cheer him with her hearty welcome.
+
+One evening Martin went with his clay pipe and his pewter ale-pot in his
+hand to the village inn, to divert himself listening to the general
+gossip which was carried on there between the host and the little group
+of customers--weavers, tinkers, tailors, blacksmiths and labourers.
+To-night they talked of the rich old king and queen, and Lord Lackaday,
+and all the gay princesses, knights and ladies, who lived at the court,
+and rode by in such splendid carriages, in such gorgeous attire.
+
+"They eat out of golden dishes," said the tailor, "and the very nails in
+their boots are silver!"
+
+Martin knew as much about the court as any present; but he was in one of
+his silent humours this evening.
+
+"The princess gave a hundred crowns," cried the blacksmith, "for a
+one-eyed lapdog, and My Lord Lackaday--Prince Primus, I mean--two
+hundred for a certain white fly for his angling-rod----"
+
+"And he never gave _me_ a hundred _groats_," blurted out Martin, who
+could not stand any reference to the prince in question.
+
+Thereupon the conversation took another turn; wages were discussed, the
+weaver and the ploughman "compared notes"; and, as for Martin, it was
+the unanimous opinion of the whole company that he, at least, ought to
+strike--to insist on an increase of pay, or refuse to labour any more as
+the king's own gardener.
+
+Accordingly, the next morning Martin watched and waited till his royal
+master came sidling along the smooth gravel walk in his embroidered
+slippers, with his dressing-gown floating about him, sniffing with
+good-humoured satisfaction the sweet fragrance of the standard roses,
+that formed a phalanx on either side.
+
+"I've got to tell your Majesty," began Martin abruptly, "that, unless
+your Majesty raises my salary, I can't work any more in your Majesty's
+garden."
+
+Whereupon the old king started back all astonished; then laughed so
+heartily that he brought on a fit of coughing.
+
+"Your Majesty may be highly amused," grumbled Martin, "but I've said my
+say, and I mean to stick to it!"
+
+"But suppose your salary _ain't_ raised," began the king, trying his
+best to look serious, "what then?"
+
+"Then I'll go!" cried Martin; and, so saying, he flung his spade with
+such force into the soil, that it stood upright.
+
+"Well, my man, we'll give you a week to come to your senses," replied
+the monarch, as, gathering up his skirts, he shuffled away down the
+garden walk.
+
+When Martin arrived home he found a great fuss going on in his little
+cottage. All the good wives of the hamlet were gathered about the
+door-porch; and, when he entered, lo, and behold, Dame Ursula held in
+her arms the dearest little beauty of a baby-boy!
+
+She wept for joy, as she saw how pleased her goodman was with his new
+little son; but when he related to her all that had passed between
+himself and his master, the old king, she clasped her hands together,
+and began to weep and wail for sorrow, "because," as she said, "it was a
+very bad time to be 'out of work,' and an evil omen for the child.
+However, we'll have a real nice christening, Martin dear, and invite all
+the _good fairies_. And next week you will go on with your gardening
+again, you know, just as if nothing had happened."
+
+So they had as grand a christening as people in their circumstances
+could afford. The baby was called Lionel, "which," remarked some of the
+neighbours, "was quite too fine a name for a common gardener's son."
+Only one bright little, gay little fairy could be found who had time to
+come to the christening. But she was a good-natured little thing, that
+somehow always found exactly time to render a great many kindly
+services. She willingly became Lionel's godmother, and promised to help
+him through life as far as she could. "However," added the little lady,
+with a sigh, "there's many a wicked fairy in the land may try to throw a
+shadow across his path."
+
+Now the day after the christening, and after the fairy's departure, the
+troubles in little Lionel's home appeared to set in. Martin's leather
+money-bag hung empty, and there was very little bread in the house for
+his wife to eat; and this Saturday night no wages were coming due. Oh,
+how he yearned for Monday morning, that he might go at his digging
+again; and how anxiously he hoped that all might continue as before!
+
+Slowly the week dragged out, the lagging hours weighing like chains on
+the heart of the honest yeoman, who was not accustomed to idleness.
+
+At last the Monday morning dawned, with rustling of leaves, and
+twittering of birds; and Martin flung his clothes on, and hastened forth
+to the royal garden.
+
+Ah, me! the place looked neglected since only last week. The roses and
+carnations hung their heads for want of a drop of water, and the leaves
+of the fuchsias had mostly turned white. Weeds were staring out boldly
+right and left; and the box-borders, that had ever been so trim and
+neat, just appeared as if all the cats and dogs in the country-side had
+gathered in on purpose to tear them to pieces.
+
+Martin sped to the toolhouse for his watering-can, rake and hoe; but he
+was somewhat dismayed indeed to find his implements broken in pieces,
+and lying scattered about.
+
+What could it mean?
+
+He took a few strides towards the "lime walk," and gazed up at the
+castle windows. The lattices were closed, and all was silent. But then,
+of course, the old king and queen and My Lord Lackaday, and all the
+princesses would be sleeping in their beds at this early hour of the
+morning. Martin must wait until some human creature appeared to tell him
+how the garden tools came to be broken and scattered.
+
+In the meantime he trudged back to his own domain among the flowers, and
+passed the dreary moments picking off the withered leaves. By-and-by a
+light footstep was audible, and "Impudent Jack the jockey" arrived
+whistling, with a heavy-jowled bull-dog at his heels, and stamped right
+across the garden parterres, switching off the carnation-tops with his
+cutty-whip.
+
+"Holloa there, man! Mind what you're about!" cried Martin foaming with
+wrath. "I wish His Majesty the old king saw you."
+
+"The old king!" cried Jack, standing still, and gazing at Martin with
+some amazement. "Why, Martin, the old king is _dead_ a week to-morrow,
+and My Lord Lackaday is master now. And, as for the garden, my man, you
+may set your mind at rest about that, for his new Royal Majesty has
+given orders that the whole concern is to be turned into a lake for His
+Majesty to fish in. Now!" And, so saying, _impudent_ Jack that he was,
+continued his way, whistling louder, and switching off more carnation
+tops than before.
+
+Poor Martin was utterly dazed. Could it be true, or was it only a
+cunning invention of Impudent Jack the jockey's?
+
+Alas, the prolonged stillness that reigned in the park, and the forlorn
+aspect of the castle windows, made his heart sink like lead within him.
+
+Suddenly a postern door banged, and then a slow, dawdling step was heard
+in the distance, and Martin perceived, approaching the "lime walk," My
+Lord Lackaday, with his fishing-rod and tackle. There were two or three
+young pages with him bearing baskets and nets; and he overheard one of
+them say, "By-and-by your Majesty shall not have so far to go, once the
+new pond here is finished."
+
+This was more than Martin could endure. He dashed after the royal
+fisherman, and screamed forth, "Can it be true that the flower gardens
+are to be made a pond of? And how is your father's gardener then to get
+his living?"
+
+"Don't bother us," drawled out the new king; "we don't like flowers, nor
+do we care whether you get a living or not!"
+
+The blood rushed to Martin's head, and a singing sound filled his ears.
+"A pond!" he cried. "A common fishpond! And how am I to earn my living
+now? And what is to become of my wife and little Lionel?"
+
+In his anger and despair, Martin sprang blindly forward, and kicked the
+standard roses, and wrung the necks of the beautiful purple iris that
+bloomed in the shade of some laurel bushes. His eye caught the
+spellbound lauristinus, and, forgetting his late good master's commands,
+he fell on it furiously with both hands, and tore, and wrenched it from
+the earth.
+
+Then suddenly, as the roots and fibres of the ill-omened plant with a
+crackling noise were released from the soil, a wonderful being, which
+had been buried underneath it--a wicked fairy with an evil eye--uncoiled
+herself, and rose up straight and tall before him. She gave a malicious
+smile, and simpered out flattering words to the half-bewildered
+labourer.
+
+"A thousand thanks, O noble knight, for relieving a spell-bound lady!
+Pray let me know, is there aught that I can do to indicate my
+gratitude?"
+
+"Tell me how I can earn my daily bread?" stammered forth poor Martin.
+
+"Daily bread!" cried the fairy, tossing her head contemptuously. "I can
+tell thee, gallant sir, where to find gold, ay, more real yellow gold
+than the king and all his court ever dreamed of! I have not been pent up
+under that lauristinus all these years for nothing! I know a secret or
+two."
+
+Martin's eyes grew dilated, and his breath came and went, and he seized
+the fairy by the wrist. "Answer me," he gasped out hoarsely, "where's
+all that gold to be got? No palavering, or I'll bury you up again, and
+plant that same lauristinus-bush on your head!"
+
+The fairy rolled her evil eye, and gave a forced laugh. "At the back of
+yonder mountain!" she cried, pointing with her thin, long hand to a hill
+whose summit overlooked the park. "The way thou must take is through the
+forest, till thou comest to the charcoal-burners' huts. Then follow a
+crooked path leading to the left, round to the back of the hill. Thou
+wilt find an opening in the earth. _The gold is there!_"
+
+Martin scarcely waited for the last words. He loosened his grasp of the
+fairy's wrist, and hastened full speed home to his wife and child.
+
+"To a hole at the back of the mountain to look for gold!" Poor Dame
+Ursula was sorely puzzled when her good-man arrived all excited, and
+bade her make a bundle of what clothes she possessed, bring the baby
+Lionel, and follow him to push their fortune at the back of the
+mountain.
+
+Now at the back of the mountain there was a deep mine where many people,
+men, women and children, were searching after, and finding, gold. Only
+they were obliged to descend deep, deep into the bowels of the earth,
+where all was dark, save for the pale flickering of little lanterns,
+which they were allowed to carry down.
+
+Poor Dame Ursula wept bitterly at the notion of taking her darling
+little Lionel into such a dismal pit. But there was no help for it; down
+they must go, and live like the rest at the bottom of the gloomy mine,
+whilst Martin, with a pickaxe, wrought for gold.
+
+... The days passed, and the weeks passed, and the months, and the
+_years_! And little Lionel was growing up amidst the dross. His long
+hair was filthy, and matted together, and his skin was always stained
+with the clay. His parents could scarcely know whether he was a lovely
+boy or not. It was so dark down there, that his mother could not show
+his blue eyes to the neighbours; yet she ever kept him by her side, for
+fear of losing him, and also because she dreaded he might learn bad ways
+from the gold-diggers--to curse and swear like them, and tell lies, and
+steal other people's treasures.
+
+And poor Martin dug from year-end to year-end, in the weary hope of some
+day lighting on a great heap of wealth.
+
+The time dragged slowly on, and Lionel's father was getting old and
+weak, and his pickaxe fell with feeble, quavering strokes into the
+earth; and Lionel's poor mother was growing blind with constantly
+peering after her son through the half-obscurity of their underground
+abode.
+
+Then one morning she missed him altogether, having mistaken for him
+another youth, whom she followed and then found with bitter anguish to
+be not her boy. Thus Lionel was alone; and he, too, searched for his
+mother, and, in so doing, became completely lost in the mine.
+
+On and on he wandered, through endless subterraneous corridors, until at
+last he spied a feeble glimmer before him. He never remembered to have
+been here before, or to have seen this light. It was the entrance to the
+mine.
+
+There was a large basket, with two old men standing in it; and they told
+Lionel that they were about to be taken up into the daylight.
+
+"Oh, let me go with you!" cried Lionel. "Take me also to the daylight,
+if only for a little while!"
+
+They hoisted him into the basket; and immediately several unseen hands
+from above drew all three right up, out of the dark gold mine. The pale,
+thin ray grew stronger, broader, brighter as they ascended; and, at the
+mouth of the mine, a perfect flood of golden sunshine overwhelmed
+Lionel, who now held his hands across his brow, and felt painfully
+dazzled.
+
+"Young man," said a voice beside him, in mournful accents, "this upper
+air is not for thee. Go down again to the shady retreat to which thou
+art accustomed."
+
+It was an aged female that spoke; she sat on the ground all clad in a
+sooty garment.
+
+"Not for me!" cried Lionel, bursting into tears; "and why should it not
+be for me as well as for others?"
+
+But just at this instant a fairy-like thing in white glided past the
+youth, and whispered, "Heed her not, she is an evil genius! Hie thee,
+young man, for shelter to yonder wood; from its leafy shade thou canst
+behold the lovely earth with its verdant meadows, rich foliage and
+brilliant flowers, and the soft, fleecy clouds embracing one another in
+the azure sky overhead. Never fear, it is all for thee; thine eyes were
+meant to gaze on it."
+
+Lionel ran, and his young heart bounded within him for joy. He felt like
+some blind person who sees again for the first time.
+
+All through those dismal years down in the mine his mother had told him
+how lovely the sunshine was, and the soft green grass; and how pure and
+sweet the country air; but he had little dreamed it could be so
+delightful, so beautiful as this!
+
+The forest stood before him with its thousands of singing-birds, and its
+carpet of many-coloured leaves and wild flowers. He would enter in
+there.
+
+Suddenly a croaking sound from a branch overhead arrested his attention,
+and Lionel saw a great magpie staring down at him with dark, piercing
+eyes.
+
+"Halt!" cried the magpie, "nor enter this wood upon the peril of thy
+life! Here are lions and tigers, bears and wolves, that will rend thee
+to pieces."
+
+He was startled and troubled for a moment; but at once his eye caught
+sight of a pretty little mocking-bird, that laughed like a human being,
+and shook its tiny head at him.
+
+"_She_ doesn't believe you, anyhow," said Lionel to the magpie. "Nor
+will I." And he walked away right into the forest.
+
+As he went he stopped to examine the feathery-looking ferns, and the
+wondrous velvety moss that grew on the roots of the trees. By-and-by a
+rushing noise was heard, which became louder as Lionel proceeded. Could
+that be the wild beasts of which the magpie had warned him? He stood
+still with fast-beating heart and listened.
+
+But the thought of the fairy-like voice and the gay little mocking-bird
+encouraged him, and he pressed forward to see what that rushing noise
+could mean.
+
+The next instant found young Lionel by the side of a majestic waterfall,
+standing with parted lips and rounded eyes, gazing before him in a
+bewilderment of admiration. The cascades leaped laughingly from rock to
+rock, and were lost in a limpid pool; then flowed away as a gentle,
+rippling brook.
+
+"How lovely!" gasped Lionel; and he bent forward, and looked into the
+placid surface of the water in the rocky basin. But what did he behold
+there? A vision that appalled him, and caused him to start back
+abashed--_himself_, all grimy, with his matted hair and besmeared face!
+For he had still the dress of the gold mine clinging to him; and he wept
+for shame to feel himself so ugly in a spot where all was beauty.
+
+Lionel stood and gazed on the silver stream with his wondering eyes; he
+observed the little birdies come down quite fearlessly to quench their
+thirst, and lave their tiny bodies in the cooling drops. Then he, too,
+trembling at his own temerity, bathed himself in the crystal pool, and
+came forth fair and shining, with his sunny locks waving on his
+shoulders.
+
+And now he continued his path through the forest with a happy heart;
+for, what if his garments _were_ old and mud-stained, he felt that he
+himself was fresh and comely!
+
+Young Lionel gathered a nosegay as he went, harebells and violets,
+oxlips and anemones; thinking all the while of the tales his mother oft
+had told him about his father's skill in flowers. And heartily he
+laughed at the frolics of the cunning little squirrels he spied for the
+first time among the branches over his head.
+
+At last he heard the echo of many voices and the sounds of merry-making,
+and paused, hesitating and timid. Whence came all this laughter and
+these cries of mirth? Surely not from the voice of one being, a
+sallow-looking female attired in gaudy garments, like a gipsy, who now
+came along his path.
+
+"Turn, noble sir, and come with me," she cried, "and I will tell thee
+thy fortune!"
+
+But Lionel liked not her artful eyes, so he only said, "What sounds are
+those?"
+
+"They are the inhabitants of the country," answered the female vaguely;
+"but beware of them, young stranger, they will surely take thy life."
+
+"But I must see them," cried Lionel, "their voices please my ears! They
+seem to be very happy."
+
+"Such happiness is not for thee, young man!" shrieked the fortune-teller
+angrily. "Be warned, and return from whence thou camest; else these
+country clowns, when they behold thy miserable attire, will stone thee
+to death, as a thief or a highwayman."
+
+Lionel was shocked; yet the leer of the gipsy's eye made him think of
+the lying magpie. So he left her, and hastened on, and, behold! there
+stood before him the village maypole, bedecked with roses and ribbons,
+and a living garland of youths and fair maidens dancing round it.
+
+They had a lovely little fairy-body in their midst, and were entreating
+her to be their "May-Queen," but laughingly she broke away from them
+all, and declared she had her duties elsewhere--other young folks in
+another hamlet to render happy. She nodded in a friendly, familiar way
+to Lionel, who waited, shyly looking on, and motioned to him with her
+little wand to join the party round the May-pole.
+
+Far from repulsing him with sneers and jests, or "stoning him to death,"
+the young people were very kind to Lionel; and, taking his hand,
+welcomed him into their chain of dancers.
+
+And when the frolics were at an end, and each one satiated with
+happiness and excitement, they brought him to their festal board, and
+gave him to eat and drink.
+
+Then the good old wives of the hamlet gathered round, and began to
+question the stranger youth, inquiring his name and whence he came. When
+they heard that he was called "Lionel," and his father "Martin," they
+held up their hands with astonishment, and nodded their heads to one
+another, and cried out, "Dame Ursula's son! Dame Ursula's babe, that was
+christened Lionel, the day Lord Lackaday became king! Well to be sure!
+And where is Dame Ursula now? And Martin the gardener? And where have
+they hidden themselves all these long years?" cried the old wives of the
+hamlet in a breath.
+
+But Lionel wept bitterly, as he thought of his mother and father far
+down in the bottom of the gold-mine; and at the same time he was
+ashamed to tell the village people where they were.
+
+"I must go," he cried, "and bring them here! I must be off to search for
+them, away ... away ... at the back of the mountain."
+
+Then the old wives insisted on his waiting and resting the night there;
+for he had need of sleep, he was so tired after walking and bathing,
+dancing and weeping. And they gave him a nice, spruce, dimity-curtained
+bed to sleep in; and presented him with a beautiful suit of new garments
+for the morrow; "for," they said, "they had been at his christening, and
+it was easy to see that the good Dame Ursula, wherever she had been all
+these years, had brought her boy up well."
+
+Lionel was fatigued, and shut his eyes at once for the night; but, ere
+slumber overtook him, he heard distinctly the old wives' gossip by his
+bedside.
+
+"What a shame it was," said they, "of My Lord Lackaday to turn away poor
+Martin as he did, and then transform the magnificent palace garden into
+a fishpond!"
+
+"But he was punished for it," whispered another. "They say an 'evil
+spell' hangs over his only child, the lovely princess--the 'Lady Lilias'
+as she is called. They say some creature from below the cursed fishpond
+is to marry her--some dreadful beast no doubt. And the king is in
+terror, and spends his time fishing there day and night."
+
+The words awakened a strange curiosity in Lionel's heart; they rang in
+his ears, and mingled with his dreams the whole night through; and it
+seemed to him as if he and his parents were, in some way, bound up with
+the fate of this poor young princess and her unhappy father, the king.
+
+The following morning he donned the brave new garments they had given
+him, and went forth to look at the park and the palace he had so often
+heard of, before starting back to the gold-mine.
+
+He discovered the royal entrance without assistance. But what was his
+surprise to see, crouched on the roadside near it, a being which looked
+this time just what she was, a wicked fairy with an evil eye! She
+uncoiled herself, and stood up, straight and tall, before him. She gave
+a malicious smile, and simpered forth these words: "Beware, young man,
+of entering in there! That is the royal demesne, and no stranger
+intrudes unpunished. None so poor and so mean as thou art dares be seen
+within those precincts."
+
+"My parents have taught me that _to tell lies is mean_! And thou hast
+told me enough!" cried Lionel, indignantly.
+
+At his words the creature vanished from before him; and on the spot
+where she had stood he saw an ugly bush of deadly nightshade.
+
+Then he boldly entered the royal park, and walked in thoughtful silence
+till the stone work of the ancient castle walls met his view. At one
+side was a venerable shady lime walk, and Lionel perceived a maiden
+slowly gliding down it, attired in white, with golden hair, much longer
+than his own, and eyes of an azure blue.
+
+"Are you the spellbound Lady Lilias?" asked Lionel. "And where is the
+lake that was once a lovely garden?"
+
+"Oh, I dare not go there," sighed the maiden; "not even to cull the
+sweet white water-lilies I wish so much, because my father fears I may
+meet some creature from below the water. Didst thou ever hear the like?
+But I think I might go with thee," she added wistfully, taking Lionel's
+hand. "No vile creature can harm me when thou art by my side!"
+
+Her innocent, confiding words captivated Lionel's heart, and he
+exclaimed, "I will protect you, Lady Lilias, from every danger."
+
+Then she led him to the great artificial lake at the back of the royal
+mansion; and there, sure enough, lay the king stretched out his full
+length upon the bank, with his fishing-rod dangling in the water.
+
+Near the margin of the lake grew lovely white water-lilies, and the Lady
+Lilias stooped to gather them. But her father was all alarmed on
+beholding her approach the spot which fate had connected with so much
+danger for his child.
+
+"My daughter, my Lilias!" he cried out, "when I have fished up the
+creature from below the lake that waits to marry thee, I will kill it,
+and then thou may'st wander as thou wilt. But oh, keep far from the
+water's edge, my child!"
+
+"Ah, here is a _Lion_ will guard thy _Lily_, father dear," returned the
+girl laughing, and she presented young Lionel to the king.
+
+But, at this instant, a violent tugging was perceptible at the end of
+the monarch's angling-rod; and he rose in great excitement to draw in
+his line, which this time seemed to have hooked some extraordinary
+booty.
+
+Lionel ran forward, and assisted the king to land it.
+
+And what was the wondrous fish? A little tiny fairy-body all laughing
+and shining like a mermaid.
+
+"I have come," she began gaily, "from the bottom of the lake, but your
+Majesty need not fear that fair Lady Lilias will fall in love with an
+old fairy like me. Yet there stands one at her side, my godson, young
+Lionel, old Martin the gardener's son, who has indeed come also from
+beneath the lake; and deeper down than I. For you must know that below
+your Majesty's feet, and below the royal palace and this park and pond,
+there are workmen grovelling sordidly for gold, and the danger is, that
+some fine morning both the palace and the hamlet may be undermined, and
+fall into the pit that they are digging."
+
+"Oh," cried the king greatly relieved, "then my Lilias shall marry young
+Lionel! He is a goodly youth; and my heart shall be at rest about my
+daughter. And now, good Fairy, that I fear no longer an ugly monster for
+my child, I shall fish no more to-day, but inquire into these things,
+that threaten the safety of my kingdom!"
+
+Lady Lilias and "My Lord Lionel," as he was now called, were married at
+once; for the good fairy declared, _a good thing could never be done too
+soon_.
+
+The marriage was a grand one, as became a royal princess of the great
+house of Primus Lackaday; and immediately after the ceremony, by
+Lionel's desire, the young pair drove in a glass-coach, drawn by eight
+swift chargers, through the forest, Lilias bearing in her hands a large
+posy of water-lilies--away, past the cascade, and on, to the opening of
+the gold-mine, at the back of the mountain.
+
+An order was sent down in the basket, by a special messenger, bidding
+old Martin and Dame Ursula ascend to meet their Lionel and his noble
+bride.
+
+As it was, the poor old couple had been searching in anguish for their
+son; and now, weary and heavy-hearted, they had arrived just at the foot
+of the opening when the news came to them.
+
+Then the sudden reaction, and the sight of the brand-new silk and velvet
+garments Lionel sent down for them, almost killed them with joy. "'Tis
+my _Lionel's voice_ I hear!" cried Dame Ursula as they were being drawn
+up in the basket.
+
+"Ah me, the odour of my flowers after twenty years!" sobbed out Martin,
+the tears trickling down his furrowed cheeks at the recognition of his
+favourites.
+
+And so they were all happy again; and Lionel's fortune was made,
+although his father found no heaps of gold.
+
+As for the king, _in three days_ he was back to his fishing again, lying
+on the bank of the great pond, as happy as ever he was in the old times
+when he was only "My Lord Lackaday." He said the land was too much
+trouble for him; Lilias and Lionel might rule it as they thought fit.
+And so these two _really_ carried out all _he_ had promised to do.
+
+The good little fairy-body rarely appeared in the country after Lionel's
+wedding-day; for the people were all happy now, "and," as she declared,
+"had no need of her."
+
+And then it happened that one day at noontide, when the sun was shining
+overhead with a dazzling heat, and all the air was warm and drowsy, the
+king, who had been angling since early morning, without catching the
+smallest minnow, and had fallen fast asleep, lost his balance, and
+rolled down the sloping bank into the water, and disappeared. They
+dredged the lake for his body in vain. No trace of him was to be
+discovered, although they sent the most expert divers down to search.
+
+But, strange to say, every evening from that time forward, just about
+sunset, a little bird with plumage gay, called "_The Kingfisher_," might
+be seen to haunt the margin of the lake, ready, with its pointed beak,
+to hook up the tiny fishes, that glided in shoals at nightfall near the
+surface of the water.
+
+
+III.
+
+CASPAR THE COBBLER, OF COBWEB CORNER.
+
+
+In the centre of a certain old city in the Land of Langaffer stood a
+king's castle, surrounded by a high turreted wall, with many little
+gablets and long windows, and balconies adorned with flowers. A
+courtyard full of soldiers was inside. Like the city, the castle was
+picturesque, with its quaint architecture, its nooks and turns, its
+solid masonry and stone-carving. The interior must have been beautiful
+indeed; for the king, who had a very excellent taste, could scarcely be
+induced to leave his royal home even for an hour, so much did he love
+it. He was wont to inhale the fresh air every morning on the southern
+parapet where the clematis trailed over the antique coping, and, in the
+long summer twilight he would enjoy gazing at the east, where the
+sinking sun had spread its golden hue over his dominions, from the tiny
+top turret pointing to the woods and mountains that lay away beyond the
+city.
+
+Now, in close proximity to the castle were some of the darkest and
+narrowest streets of the city. One of these was Cobweb Corner; and here,
+in a small attic, dwelt a humpbacked, plain-visaged little man, who the
+whole day long loved to think about the king. He was called "Caspar the
+Cobbler, of Cobweb Corner."
+
+The people all knew Caspar, but they did not know that Caspar's secret
+ambition was to become some day cobbler to the king.
+
+Caspar's father and mother had been poor folk, like himself; and when he
+came into the world, a sickly, plain-featured babe, his mother sent for
+the very last of the fairies in the land to be her child's godmother,
+and to bequeath him some wonderful gift which might make up for his lack
+of strength and beauty.
+
+"What an ugly child," said the fairy; "yet somebody will love him, and
+he may become beautiful--and, when all else forsake him, why, then the
+most graceful of the birds shall be his friends."
+
+Poor Caspar's mother considered that she had accomplished a great thing
+in persuading the fairy to act as godmother; but his father thought he
+could do better for his son in teaching him his own handicraft to the
+best of his ability.
+
+And therefore, with an extraordinary amount of care and patience, the
+old man instructed his little lad how to manage his awl; and, ere he
+died, had the satisfaction of knowing that his Caspar bade fair to
+become as clever a cobbler as any in the city.
+
+Several years had passed, and Caspar lived on alone in the little attic
+near the castle wall. The way up to his room was dark and narrow, up
+rickety stairs, and along crooked passages; but, once at the top, there
+was plenty of cheerful light streaming in through the dormer-window, and
+the twittering of the birds, as they built their nests in the eaves, had
+something pleasant and gay.
+
+The feathered songsters were Caspar's most constant companions, and he
+understood every word they said. He confided to them all his secrets,
+amongst others, what a proud man he should be, the day he made a pair of
+shoes for the king! Other secrets he imparted also to the birds, which
+the city folk down in the streets guessed little about.
+
+Many and many a time, as Caspar sat so much alone, he would sigh, and
+wish that his fairy-godmother would come and see him sometimes. But,
+alas, that could not be, for the king had given strict orders that the
+sentinels posted at the city gates should allow "no fairy bodies" in.
+Even the very last of the kind was, by a new law, banished to
+far-distant fairyland. "No more magic wands, no more wonders nowadays,"
+sighed poor Caspar; "nothing can be won but by hard and constant work,
+work, work!"
+
+Moreover, poor Caspar had to learn that even honest work sometimes fails
+to ward off hunger and poverty. For many a long month the crooked
+little cobbler was doomed to toil, and to suffer privation as well. He
+might make his boots and shoes night and day, and lay them out, pair by
+pair, in neat rows along a shelf in the corner of his attic, but what
+availed all this if no customer ever ventured up to look at them, nor
+even to order mendings?
+
+The fact was, that about this time the folk in that old city began to
+wear _wooden_ shoes, which, they said, were good enough for them, and
+lasted longer than any other.
+
+Only fair-haired, blue-eyed Mabel, Dame Dimity's daughter, who had the
+daintiest little feet in the world, and knew how to dance like any
+fairy--she wore lovely little shoes manufactured by Caspar.
+
+When Midsummer-day came round Mabel was elected May-queen. Then she came
+tripping up the rickety staircase, and along the dingy passage to the
+attic workshop, in Cobweb Corner. "Caspar, Caspar, here, quick! My
+measure for a darling little pair of shoes to dance in!" and she held
+out the most elegant little foot which any shoemaker could possibly
+choose for a pattern.
+
+Three days after that the shoes were finished, a bonnie wee pair of
+crimson ones, in the softest of kid-leather; and when Mabel came to
+fetch them, and tried them on, they fitted like a glove. She drew them
+both on, and danced round the room to show how delighted she was. And
+dear! how lovely they looked, all three--Mabel and the little red
+shoes!!
+
+Poor deformed Caspar smiled as he watched her, and felt happy to have
+rendered her so happy.
+
+"I love to see you, little Mabel," he said, "and that is why I shall
+shut up my workshop on Midsummer-day, and go out to the common when you
+are crowned 'Queen o' the May.' I only wish the sky may be as blue--as
+blue--as your eyes are, Mabel!" And then the crooked little cobbler
+stammered and blushed at his own forwardness in paying such a compliment
+to the prettiest maiden in the land.
+
+But little Mabel said, "I will watch out for you, Caspar. I shall care
+for nobody on all the green so much as you."
+
+Caspar could scarcely quite believe little Mabel when she said this; yet
+he was greatly touched by her kindness, and he promised to go and look
+at her from afar.
+
+When Midsummer-day dawned over that old city the weather was
+beautiful--the sky, as blue as Mabel's eyes; and young and old flocked
+out to bask in the sunshine, and enjoy the games and the merry-making.
+Even the king sallied forth from his castle, accompanied by his
+courtiers, to favour with his presence the time-honoured custom of
+crowning the May-queen.
+
+When he beheld little Mabel he exclaimed, "What a lovely maiden, fit to
+be a princess!"
+
+Caspar was standing quite near, and heard it with his own ears. He
+expected after that to see Mabel drop a curtsey to the king. But no, the
+little maiden looked straight at him--poor Caspar--instead, and with her
+queen's flowery wand, pointed down to her bonnie crimson shoes.
+
+The cobbler of Cobweb Corner was becoming dazed with happiness. Curious
+thoughts about his fairy-godmother crept into his head; strange thrills
+of pleasure and of pain shot through his dwarfish frame, and turned him
+well-nigh sick with emotion. It seemed to Caspar that he had grown older
+and younger in that one summer day. He felt giddy, and suddenly longed
+for his quiet attic in Cobweb Corner.
+
+He stole silently away, and had left the crowd behind him on the Common,
+when he suddenly became aware of a tiny hand slipped into his own; and,
+looking down to the ground, observed a dainty pair of red shoes tripping
+lightly by his side. "What! little Mabel?"
+
+"I just wanted to leave when you would leave, Caspar. For there was
+nobody on all the green I cared for so much as you."
+
+Ah, this time he did believe her,--poor Caspar! And so he must tell her
+all _his_ secret. "I love you, little Mabel, oh so much! And oh, if some
+day you could marry me, I should keep you in darling little crimson
+shoes all your life! And who knows--perhaps through your love Mabel--I
+might grow better-looking. They said my godmother promised it."
+
+"I love you as you are, plain or handsome, you dear, good Caspar," cried
+little Mabel, "and I will marry you just as soon as my mother, Dame
+Dimity, gives her consent!"
+
+Alas! True love is ever doomed to be crossed, else this little tale of
+ours had been a good deal shorter; had, perhaps, even ended here!
+
+Dame Dimity would on _no_ account yield her consent to the union of her
+daughter, the beauty of the town, with the cobbler of Cobweb Corner.
+Why, if it came to that, there was Christopher Clogs, the wooden
+shoemaker, who was a good figure and a wealthy man to boot! He lived in
+the Market Place, and drove a thriving business, whilst Caspar was known
+to have only one coat to his back. Really the effrontery of Cobweb
+Corner was astounding!
+
+Poor Mabel's eyes were now often dimmed with tears; yet once every day
+she passed through the narrow street near the castle wall, and gazed up
+at Caspar's gable-window, until she saw the little shoemaker smile down
+at her. After she had vanished, Caspar would feel very lonely; yet he
+said to himself, "When I want to see her blue eyes, then I must look at
+the sky. She'll always have blue eyes, and she'll always be _my Mabel_."
+
+These days Caspar rarely left his workshop in the old garret. He was
+very poor, and had nothing to buy with; so he went to no shops, and he
+avoided the neighbours, as they were beginning to make merry about him,
+and Mabel, and Dame Dimity. He could not bear to hear them say that
+Mabel was betrothed to Christie Clogs, the wooden shoemaker. Anything
+but that!
+
+When he had nobody to talk to, why, he opened his window to converse
+with the swallows, and asked them every evening what was the news--for
+Caspar could not afford to take in a newspaper.
+
+"Oh, what do you think!" they cried one night, swirling round his head
+in circles, as their custom was, "here is something to interest you,
+Caspar! The king has got _sore feet_--from wearing tight boots, they
+say,--and sits in an arm-chair with his feet wrapped up in a flannel.
+We saw it all just a while ago."
+
+"I took stock of His Majesty's feet that day," said Caspar promptly,
+"the day he was out on the 'Green.' I can't help measuring people's feet
+with my eye," he added apologetically to the swallows; "you see, it's my
+trade, and it is the only thing I am good at."
+
+But ere he had finished speaking, the friendly swallows had described
+their last swift circle in the air, and, with a sharp scream of
+"Goodnight," had darted into their nests under the old pointed roof.
+
+That evening, ere he lay down in _his_ nest, poor Caspar had cut out of
+soft, well-tanned leather a pair of shoes, which he knew to be the
+king's own measure. "Ah," said Caspar, "the poor king must have his new
+shoes as soon as possible, for it is awful to suffer toe-ache, and to be
+obliged to sit all day long with one's feet swathed in flannel." And
+Caspar sat with his leather apron on, and wrought as if for life and
+death at the new shoes. He was too busy even to rise and look at the
+window for little Mabel passing by.
+
+At last they were completed. Then the humpbacked cobbler, having washed
+his hands, and brushed his one coat, went off, quivering with
+excitement, bearing the new shoes in his hands, away downstairs, and
+through the narrow street under the castle wall, till he came and stood
+before the castle gate. Here the sentinel on duty demanded what he
+wanted.
+
+"Pair of shoes for His Majesty," responded Caspar in a businesslike
+manner, and was admitted.
+
+When he had crossed the courtyard, and had arrived at the entrance of
+the inner apartments, he was accosted by a couple of lackeys covered
+with gold lace, and with powdered hair.
+
+"Heigho! What's all this!" they exclaimed. "Where dost thou hail from,
+old Hop-o'-my-thumb?"
+
+"I am Caspar the cobbler, of Cobweb Corner," replied the little man
+gravely; "as you may perceive by these new shoes which I bring for the
+king, and which are His Majesty's exact fit."
+
+"Begone, knave!" cried the lackeys indignantly. "Dost thou imagine the
+king would wear anything contrived by the likes of thee. Be off, old
+mountebank, ere thou and thy shoes are flung into the castle dungeon!"
+
+In vain poor Caspar intreated; they would not even listen to him. At
+last, in utter terror for his life, he hurried away, disappointed,
+mortified, sick at heart, carrying the despised piece of workmanship, at
+which he had toiled so carefully and conscientiously all these weeks,
+back home to his obscure lodging in Cobweb Corner. Here, overcome with
+vexation, the little man flung himself upon his bed, and cried himself
+asleep.
+
+When he awoke it was evening. A fresh breeze was gently stirring the
+casement, the window was open, and the swallows passing and repassing it
+in circles, producing a screaming, chattering noise all the time.
+
+Caspar's eye fell first on his work-table, on which lay, side by side,
+his latest, best work, the brand new shoes for the king. Ah! the
+swallows saw them too, and this was the cause of all the extra
+twittering and screaming this evening.
+
+"Dear feathered friends," cried Caspar, springing to the open window,
+"how can ye help me? They are finished! They fit! But how are they to be
+conveyed to His Majesty? The menials in the castle would not let me in."
+
+"Wee--wee--we could carry _one_!" piped the swallows, slily, dipping
+their long lanced wings, and swirling swiftly by.
+
+"No, not _one_, ye silly creatures!" cried Caspar all out of breath;
+"_both_ or none!"
+
+The swallows made a second long sweep, and as they neared the gablet
+again, hissed forth, "Singly were surer." But, as Caspar made a sign of
+impatience, four of his friends, the swifts, darted straight across the
+window-sill to the work-table, and, seizing the new shoes by heel and
+toe, sped off with them across the old wall to the royal castle.
+
+It seemed but an instant and they were back, screaming and hissing and
+circling towards their nest in the eaves. Caspar put his head out at
+the open casement, and listened anxiously to their sounds.
+
+"Dropped them at his bed-room window--the little balcony--some one
+opened--took them in--so, so, sleep well, sleep well,--goodnight!"
+
+The following morning Caspar the cobbler was up and dressed before
+daybreak, and down in the streets, in and out amongst the crowds, trying
+to overhear some gossip about the king.
+
+The city folk were surprised to see him once more in their midst; and
+good-naturedly permitted him to sit at their firesides for old times'
+sake, although he called for no ale, nor lighted a long pipe like the
+others. All poor Caspar desired was to ascertain the latest court news;
+but, to his annoyance, he was doomed to learn first a great many things
+that did not please him about Dame Dimity and Christie Clogs.
+
+At last, late on in the afternoon, somebody inquired if the company were
+informed of the good tidings, "that His Majesty the king was recovered
+of his foot-ache, and could walk about again, thanks to a shoemaker who
+had succeeded in fitting His Majesty's foot to a 'T.'"
+
+"_That_ shoemaker, whoever he be, has founded his own fortune this day!"
+exclaimed the innkeeper.
+
+Caspar sprang to his feet, and at the same time the pewter tankards and
+all the pipes, the host and all the customers, danced round before his
+eyes. With a great gasp of excitement he bounded out to the street, and
+sped on to the market place, past Dame Dimity's, and past Christie
+Clogs', and on to the narrow street with the overshadowing wall, and on,
+and on, until he arrived at the royal entrance. He obtained admittance
+as before, and pressed forward till he was arrested by the supercilious
+lackeys in gold-lace livery.
+
+"What! here again, old Hop-o'-my-thumb!" cried they.
+
+"But I am the royal shoemaker, gentlemen!" exclaimed Caspar, proudly,
+"and that was my own work which I carried in my hand yesterday morning."
+
+"What knavery is this?" returned the head menial of the castle, "the
+royal shoemaker, villain, is no clumsy clown from these parts; but he
+and his wares come from abroad, from Paris. He is, moreover, with the
+king at present, receiving his reward for the beautiful new pair of
+shoes in softly-tanned leather, which arrived last night at dusk. He is
+an elegant gentleman, this Parisian, and knows fine manners as well as
+his trade, for he ne'er goes nor comes without dealing out _largesse_ to
+us, the gentlemen attendants, and therein exhibits his good breeding."
+
+"But the shoes!" stammered out Caspar all aghast. "The shoes! I made
+them, and His Majesty the king has them on at this very moment. Confound
+your Parisian!" he screamed, waxing wroth; "it was _I_ who made the
+shoes--they were found on the western balcony last night--His Majesty
+must know that they are the work of Caspar the cobbler, of Cobweb
+Corner!"
+
+At this moment a musical murmur of voices was audible from within, and a
+creaking of boots; and at once the angry lackeys turned smiling faces
+towards the departing French merchant, who politely pressed a little
+coin into each of their outstretched palms.
+
+When at length he took his departure, Caspar followed him some way with
+a very ugly expression disfiguring his features. "I could kill this
+dandy interloper, who steals the reward and credit of my hard-earned
+toil! I could stick my awl through him!"
+
+Poor Caspar, it was well that at this instant he was accosted by his
+loving little angel, his sweet, blue-eyed Mabel!
+
+"Eh, my Caspar, whatever has come over you, and whither are you going,
+that you do not even see your own Mabel? And, oh! I am thankful to have
+met you now, for look, Caspar, with trudging past Cobweb Corner every
+day my pretty shoes are well-nigh worn through! So I must have a new
+pair, and you may set about making them at once."
+
+Then poor Caspar told her about his grievous disappointment at the
+castle, and the insults and humiliation he had experienced at the hands
+of the royal underlings. "It is too bad." he said, "to think that nobody
+knows that I made them!"
+
+"The swallows know it," added Mabel pensively, "and you should have
+followed their advice; for, after all, they are your best friends."
+
+"What!" returned Caspar sharply, "and sent only one at a time? Is that
+what you mean, Mabel?"
+
+"I dare say that was what _they_ meant," she returned.
+
+Caspar groaned.
+
+"But look," continued the little maiden gaily, her blue eyes dancing
+with a bright idea, "remember this, O Caspar, the king's shoes must
+by-and-by become worn through, like mine! And then--and then, he must
+have new ones too--and then--and then we'll take the swallows' advice,
+and act with greater caution."
+
+That evening when Caspar went home to Cobweb Corner, and flung open his
+gable-window, there were _no_ graceful circles described overhead, and
+_no_ twittering amongst the eaves. All was silent. The swallows had
+taken leave of Cobweb Corner, and of the royal castle, and of the quaint
+old city, with its many spires and turrets. They were off, all together,
+a joyous merry troup of tourists, swiftly, swiftly winging their way to
+warmer climes for the winter.
+
+Poor Caspar missed them sadly, and reproached them a little at first for
+being heartless, selfish creatures. Soon, however, he gained courage
+again; and began to work at Mabel's shoes ... and then at the king's--to
+have them ready by spring time, when, as the little maiden said, "the
+others should be worn out."
+
+Several times that winter Caspar saw the king walk out in the identical
+shoes his hands had manufactured; and his heart gave a leap every time
+he observed them becoming thinner.
+
+At last the soft western breezes, the budding flowers, and the
+bright-blue, sunny sky of springtime came again; and the swallows
+returned swiftly, swiftly, swirling and screaming, just as they had done
+last year. They nested in their old corner under the eaves of Caspar's
+gable-roof. And by-and-by, when it was gossipped throughout the city
+that the king's feet were paining him again, because the very last new
+shoes--which _really_ came from Paris, didn't fit at all, then the
+swallows at nightfall hissed at Caspar's window, "_Soon, soon, see they
+be ready! Singly is surely!_"
+
+The dandified tradesman from Paris arrived at the castle with all his
+samples; but he was received with suspicion, and dismissed in disgrace,
+and this time distributed no _largesse_ amongst the gold-laced lackeys.
+
+The same night the swallows might have been observed darting off from
+Cobweb Corner, bearing _one_ neatly-made shoe in soft, well-tanned
+leather. They dropped it outside the royal window, on the western
+balcony.
+
+The following morning there was a great proclamation out all over the
+town. The mayor read it aloud on the market place in front of Christie
+Clogs' house, offering an immense reward to the person who could produce
+the missing shoe, "fellow to that one discovered on the king's balcony
+last night"; and a second reward, "ten times as great to the
+manufacturer of the said pair of shoes, which fitted His Majesty to a
+'T.'"
+
+In front of the crowd thronging the market place stood Caspar, his
+figure erect, his face transformed into a beautiful face by the delight
+which had taken possession of his whole soul. The success of an honest
+workman beamed in his countenance, and rendered the poor cobbler noble.
+
+Mabel ran to his side, and he placed the missing shoe in her hands. "It
+is safe with my true, blue-eyed darling!" cried Caspar proudly; and the
+people raised a hearty cheer.
+
+Then they formed a procession, and, with Caspar and Mabel at their head,
+marched to the royal presence.
+
+This time the king received Caspar himself, and from Mabel's lips
+learned the whole story of the shoes from the very beginning.
+
+After that, there was great rejoicing in the quaint old city; for both
+Caspar and Mabel were now the favourites with all the better folk. The
+king issued a command for their immediate marriage, and appointed Caspar
+to a post in the castle.
+
+But the only title Caspar was willing to accept was that of "Cobbler to
+the King"; and, as such, he subsequently removed his belongings from
+Cobweb Corner to a fine large house which was prepared for him in the
+market place.
+
+The fairy godmother was allowed to come and grace the wedding with her
+presence; and she promised so many blessings that Caspar and Mabel ought
+to have been still happier if that had been possible.
+
+As for Dame Dimity, she married Christie Clogs herself; and report says
+she led a sore life of it when he came home tipsy at night, and began to
+fling his wooden shoes about.
+
+
+IV.
+
+DAME DOROTHY'S DOG.
+
+
+On the outskirts of Langaffer village, and not far from the great pine
+forest, stood the cottage of old Dame Dorothy, with its latticed windows
+and picturesque porch, and its pretty little garden, fenced in with
+green palings and privet hedge.
+
+Dame Dorothy was a nice, particular old lady, who spent her time in and
+about her house, trying to make things neat and cosy. In winter she
+might be seen polishing her mahogany furniture, rubbing bright her
+brazen candlesticks and copper kettle, or sweeping about the fireplace;
+whilst in summertime she was mostly busy weeding her garden, raking the
+little walks, and watering her flowers.
+
+Yet she never smiled, only sighed very often; and toiled every day more
+diligently than the day before.
+
+Strange to say, Dame Dorothy was not comfortable in spite of all her
+conscientiously-performed labours; nor happy, although she lived in such
+a beautiful little cottage. She never imagined for a moment that the
+cause of this could be the fact--that she kept a black dog.
+
+Black Nero was a magnificent mastiff, with not a white hair on his back.
+He had run into Dame Dorothy's one Fifth of November from the forest,
+when quite a little puppy; and she had housed him and fed him ever
+since; and now she was so much attached to him that she declared she
+could not part with him for the world.
+
+In return for her care he trampled over her flower-beds, tore down her
+hollyhocks, and scraped up the roots of her "London Pride" with his
+fore-paws; made a passage for himself through her privet hedge, and lay
+stretched on fine days his full length on her rustic sofa in the
+door-porch.
+
+When the rosy-cheeked village children passed by to school in the
+morning Nero snarled and snapped at them through the railings, so that
+not one durst venture to say "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy."
+
+Even the next-door neighbours were afraid of him; and some acquaintances
+of the widow, who themselves kept cats and dogs, and nice little soft
+kittens as pets, now rarely invited her over to a friendly dance or a
+wedding or christening; for if they did the black dog was certain to
+accompany his mistress; and then, in the midst of the party, he would
+raise such a barking, and create such a confusion, that none of the
+dames could get speaking.
+
+In winter, when the cold blasts swirled dreamily through the leafless
+branches of the Langaffer beeches, causing them to creak and moan; when
+the snow lay thick upon the ground, and the nights closed in apace, and
+the villagers relished the comforts of the "ingle-nook,"
+then--alas!--there was no fireside enjoyment for poor Dame Dorothy. She
+might fasten her shutters, and draw her armchair close to the hearth;
+she might pile up the logs in the chimney to make a blazing fire--but
+all in vain! Home cheer there was none; for the black dog was there,
+with his great body extended between her and the warmth. She might boil
+the kettle, and gaze at herself in its shining lid; but Nero's face was
+reflected in the kettle-lid too; and in all the lids, and pots and pans,
+and pewters and coppers right round the room, with his ugly muzzle
+half-open for growling and snarling.
+
+Moreover, the dog was so greedy and thankless, he never wagged his tail,
+but would snap at the victuals his mistress herself was eating; and when
+she did give him the choicest dainties that came off her gridiron, and
+the very top of the cream, he would only whine for more.
+
+For all this, Dame Dorothy had no idea of parting with the graceless
+brute, but continued to pet and pamper him. She was even secretly proud
+of Nero, because he was the biggest dog in the village, and by far the
+most terrible. Once she told the neighbours over the palings that he was
+a great protection to her, especially at night, and she "such a poor
+lone widow!"
+
+Whereupon these good people honestly replied, "Oh, Mistress Dorothy,
+never dread a worse enemy than your own black dog!"
+
+Then in her heart she remembered how that very morning Nero had indeed
+caught her thumb between his teeth when impatiently snatching his food;
+and how the evening before he had upset the milkpail, and left the black
+mark of his paw on her new knitted quilt; and how, one day last week, he
+had sat down on her best Sunday cap. And Dame Dorothy knew in her heart
+that the village folk spoke truly; but she would not acknowledge it,
+no--but with a melancholy shake of her head, repeated, "Poor dear Nero!
+People have something against thee, my dear black doggie!"
+
+Now it happened that one fine morning in May, when the lark was warbling
+high overhead, and the hawthorn bushes were putting on their first pink
+blossoms, and all the forest was gay with budding flowers and singing
+birds, and the village school-children were passing hand-in-hand,
+carrying their little slates and satchels, that they met a tiny fairy
+all in white, with a wondrous beaming face, and golden hair floating
+down over her shoulders. Naturally they stopped to stare at her, for
+they had never seen such a lovely little lady before; and she smiled
+pleasantly, for she had never beheld such a collection of wondering
+round eyes, and so many wide-open mouths gaping at her.
+
+Presently she asked, "Can you tell me, young people, whose is that
+pretty cottage, so nicely situated at the corner of the wood, with the
+beautiful porch and palings?"
+
+"Dame Dorothy's!" exclaimed they all in a breath.
+
+"It must be very delightful there," she continued. "I shall go in, and
+see Dame Dorothy."
+
+"Don't! She keeps a dog," cried one, "and he will eat you up."
+
+"Such a nasty, big black dog," added another, "that barks----"
+
+"Like a lion," interposed a third.
+
+"And bites like a tiger!" added a fourth.
+
+"Oh, don't go, pretty lady!" repeated a fifth and sixth, and many more
+childish voices together; "and pray don't open the gate, for we are all
+so afraid he might spring out at us."
+
+"Thank you, my dears, but I am not afraid," said the fairy. "And I
+intend to visit Dame Dorothy all the same."
+
+Then the children were more astonished still when they saw her glide in
+between the palings without ever unlatching the gate. She was such a
+slender little fairy-body! But they held their breaths, and clutched at
+one another's skirts with fear, as they heard the harsh yelp of Nero,
+and perceived him bounding forward from his seat in the doorway.
+
+"Ah! eh! oh! he will devour her!" they all gasped out together. But just
+then the little lady was waving her tiny hand toward their school-house;
+and they all ran on so fast, so fast, that the door was not quite closed
+when they arrived.
+
+And now the good little fairy with her white dress, and her golden
+tresses floating behind her, fixed her blue eyes very steadily on the
+dog's black eyes, and held up her tiny forefinger.
+
+Thus she walked straight into Dame Dorothy's cottage, and, as she flung
+open the door, a whole flood of sunshine streamed in along with her.
+
+And the black dog hung his head, and followed her slowly, growling and
+grinding his teeth as if he would best like to snatch her, and munch her
+up, and swallow her down all in a minute.
+
+But Dame Dorothy was enchanted with her bright little visitor; for, to
+tell the truth, the callers-in were very rare that year at the woodside
+cottage, and the widow's heart often yearned for some one to speak to.
+
+The white fairy inquired how it was that so few flowers were seen in the
+garden, and so few birds' nests under the eaves of the cottage; and why
+Dame Dorothy did not take her knitting that fine morning, and enjoy the
+bright sun in the doorway?
+
+The widow looked melancholy, and heaved a deep sigh; but the black dog,
+who had overheard every syllable, sneaked away with a low growling
+noise, and knocked down a chair on purpose to indicate his malice.
+
+"I shall return another day," said the good little fairy as she rose to
+take leave, "and bring you such a sweet nosegay fresh from the forest,
+to decorate the table and cheer your heart, because," she added, quite
+in a whisper, lest Nero might hear her--"because I am sorry to see you
+have none left in your flower-beds."
+
+From this day forth Dame Dorothy's dog was "poorly." He skulked about
+the garden, keeping to the gravel walk, with drooping ears and tail
+between his legs. And by-and-by he began to leave his food untasted.
+
+The poor widow noticed the change, and became anxious. Then presently
+she grew more uneasy; and at last, greatly concerned about her
+favourite's health, she set about cutting him out a warm coat for the
+autumn out of her own best velvet mantle, for she was sure he had taken
+the influenza.
+
+By-and-by she observed that Nero grew worse on the days of the bright
+little fairy's visits; that no sooner did the white robe and the golden
+hair cross the threshold than he would move away from the fireside,
+slink whining under the tables and chairs, and pass outside the house
+altogether.
+
+Yet Dame Dorothy could not help loving the sunny fairy who every time
+fetched a lovely posy of sweet-scented flowers from the forest; to say
+nothing of her winning voice, her musical laughter, her gentle, loving
+eyes.
+
+And the village children trooped often now past the woodside cottage,
+for they wanted to catch a glimpse of the fairy as she went in and out;
+and they were quite overjoyed when she spoke to them.
+
+At last one day Dame Dorothy, who had got into the habit of telling the
+fairy everything, thought she would consult her about her dog.
+
+"Ah me, my poor Nero!" she said; "look at him, he is not thriving at
+all. And what will become of me, a lone widow woman, if aught befall my
+black dog? And only think, I cannot persuade him to wear the jacket I
+sewed for him out of my own best mantle!"
+
+"Poor black dog!" said the little fairy as gravely as she could, and
+nothing more.
+
+After that she went away; and the same night the dog disappeared.
+
+Dame Dorothy sought for him high and low, called him by name, coaxingly,
+entreatingly; but all in vain. Then she sat down in her great armchair
+by her own fireside, and began to weep for her favourite.
+
+Now it was a very comfortable chair, and the beech-logs in the wide
+grate sent out a nice warm glow, and it was the first time for months
+that the rightful possessor of the place could enjoy these in
+undisturbed tranquillity.
+
+Dame Dorothy soon fell fast asleep. And then she had such funny dreams
+about _white_ dogs, and _black_ fairies, and school children, all
+clothed in little jackets cut out of her own best mantle, that she
+laughed aloud several times in her sleep, and indeed did not waken until
+the morning sun sent his beams in through the diamond panes of her
+window.
+
+Many days Dame Dorothy searched for her black dog in every corner of the
+cottage, and under every bush in the garden, and all among her privet
+hedge, for she was sure he had lain down in some spot to die. But not
+the least trace of him did she discover.
+
+And then she gathered up all her grief to pour it forth in one loud,
+intense lamentation the first time the bright little fairy should
+arrive.
+
+"But oh, do not weep so, good Dame Dorothy," said the little lady.
+"When I return again, I shall fetch you another pet to keep you company
+all day long, and bring joy to your heart, and peace to your fireside!"
+
+She kept faithful to her promise, the good little fairy; for the next
+time she came from the forest she brought with her a lovely
+white-breasted _turtle-dove_ for Dame Dorothy.
+
+The village children saw her on the road, and they all flocked in before
+her, crying, "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy. Oh, you are going to get such a
+beautiful, _beautiful_ bird!" Then the old lady smiled at the children,
+as she never had smiled for years and years.
+
+And, as the days went by, the little garden near the great pine forest
+grew fair and fragrant. The roses and the sweet woodbine clambered over
+the pretty porch. The hollyhocks and the London-pride flourished once
+more, and the little birds built their nests, and twittered fearlessly
+under the eaves of the rustic cottage.
+
+The new white pet became so tame and so gentle that it would eat from
+its mistress's hand, and would perch lovingly upon her shoulder.
+
+And when she was invited by her old acquaintances in the village to an
+afternoon party, she was always requested to bring her pet along with
+her; for all the villagers, young and old, who had formerly dreaded the
+great black dog, now loved and welcomed _Dame Dorothy's dove_.
+
+
+V.
+
+THE LITTLE LOCKSMITH.
+
+
+Long ago there lived in Langaffer a light-hearted, light-haired, lazy
+little lad called Randal. He enjoyed a happy home, health and high
+spirits, and a gay, merry life with his brothers and sisters.
+
+They went to no school, but in the early Spring days sallied forth to
+gather primroses and anemones; they knew the spot where the tallest
+rushes grew, for plaiting into butterflies' cages, the best
+seggan-leaves for tiny canoes, and could tell where the finest
+blackbirds' eggs were to be found.
+
+In autumn, when the leaves were turning yellow, and the squirrels were
+fat and tame, they roamed together through the dingle in search of
+hazel-nuts; and waded up and down the shallow stream, their chatter
+mingling with its bubbling noise, whilst they tried to catch the darting
+minnows.
+
+Every corner of the village had echoed with their laughter, and with the
+shrill, clear voice of Randal, the bonniest and blithest of the band.
+
+Now, in a shady grove, at some distance from the village, there stood a
+quaint-looking edifice, with antique windows and sculptured pillars
+partly overgrown with ivy. The tiny lads and lasses of Langaffer knew it
+well enough by sight; but little cared they who lived there, or what
+might be inside. In the long summer twilight they chased one another
+round the basement walls, and startled the swallows from the eaves with
+their joyous screams; and that was enough for them.
+
+Yet there came a day when Randal was alone, lying listlessly his full
+length upon the grass, flapping away the midges with a blade of
+spear-grass, just in front of the mansion, when he beheld the portal
+open, and a youth step forth.
+
+The young man had a beaming countenance, and walked with a quick,
+elastic step.
+
+Then Randal wondered for the first time in his life what that lofty
+edifice could be, and why the youth came "all so smiling out" from its
+stately portico. He sprang to his feet, and, running forward, cried out,
+"Pray, sir, can you tell me what building is this?"
+
+"Oh, a beautiful fairy palace," cried the stranger, "with such wonderful
+things in every apartment! The oftener one enters, the more one sees,
+and all so curious, so lovely!"
+
+"What! Then you will take me with you the next time you go?" cried
+Randal, eagerly.
+
+"Oh, no, my lad," said the stranger. "If you wish to enter in you must
+have a key of your own."
+
+"But _where_ shall I get one?" said Randal.
+
+"Make it!" was the reply. "If you go to the forge at the four roads'
+end, and apprentice yourself to the locksmith there, he will show you
+how to set about it. It's a labour that's well repaid."
+
+The youth went away, and his words filled Randal with a strange yearning
+to behold the interior of the mysterious mansion.
+
+But he lost no time; he ran full speed till he came to the forge at the
+four roads' end, and begged the locksmith to receive him as an
+apprentice, and teach him how to construct a magic key, that would open
+the fairy palace.
+
+And there, at the smithy, Randal beheld a number of little locksmiths
+about his own age, each with a leathern apron on, and arms bared to the
+elbows, working away at the anvil. They were all making keys, and some
+had well-nigh finished, whilst others were only beginning.
+
+Then little Randal bared his arms too, and got a leathern apron on, and
+began to work with all his might, thinking only of the beautiful fairy
+palace, that stood so silent and majestic in the midst of the shady
+pine-grove.
+
+What could be within its walls? When should he obtain a peep at all the
+wondrous things he had heard of? Not till his key was ready!
+
+And alas! it was heavy work at the smithy. Day after day must the little
+mechanic toil, till the great beads of perspiration gathered upon his
+brow.
+
+As for the other apprentices, only _some_ wrought steadily on, with
+unflinching courage. Most of them, who were beginners, like Randal,
+idled when the master locksmith chanced to leave the forge, and skimped
+their work, and grumbled, and declared there was nothing in the palace
+worth the labour.
+
+One boy, whose key was almost shaped, gave up in despair, cried out that
+all the treasures of Fairyland should not induce him to work another
+minute; then flung down his tools upon the ground, tore off his apron,
+and ran out into the green fields.
+
+This discouraged many of the little workmen, who, one by one, dropped
+their implements, and slipped away, murmuring that the task was too
+difficult and tedious.
+
+Poor Randal felt sorely tempted to follow their example; and indeed he
+might have yielded, too, had not one pale-faced, earnest-looking boy,
+who held a file and piece of polished metal in his hand, exclaimed,--
+
+"Six times have I tried my key in the lock of the palace door, and all
+in vain. The _seventh_ time I must succeed--and then--the treasures are
+mine!"
+
+"What that pale-faced boy can do, I can do," said Randal to himself;
+and, like a thorough workman, he set himself bravely to his task,
+determined, come what might, to finish it.
+
+And every morning, when Randal left his home, and started for the forge,
+he took his way through the pine grove, just to gaze a moment with awe
+and admiration at the fairy palace, and for the twentieth time to fancy
+himself deftly turning the key in the lock, and gliding softly in.
+
+But once, as he hastened by at break of day, whom should he meet but
+Sylvan, the squire's son, setting out with a couple of terriers to hunt
+for weasels.
+
+"Where are you going so early?" said Sylvan; and Randal told him.
+
+Then the young squire laughed aloud, and cried out, "Oh, I have been a
+locksmith too at the four roads' end! My father made me go and work like
+a common slave. But I have had enough of that sort of life, and I don't
+wish to hear anything more about 'locks and keys, and fairy palaces.'
+Come with me, and I'll teach you how to set a trap."
+
+But Randal silently shook his head, and went his way to the forge at the
+four roads' end. Sylvan's words, however, continued to ring in his ears,
+and spoiled his heart for his labour. And all that day the smithy seemed
+in his eyes like an ugly den, and himself and the little locksmiths like
+so many toil-worn slaves. And now he chafed and fretted; and now he
+loitered at his work; and now he hastened to make up for squandered
+time. And then, alas, in his haste, he broke the key he was making.
+
+"Here's a pretty mess!" cried Randal in despair. "Must I start at the
+beginning again? Or shall I give it up altogether? Ah! why did I hear
+about the fairy palace at all?"
+
+The temptation was strong to fling down his tools, as many another
+before him had done, and leave the anvil for ever. Randal's ten fingers
+were just raised to unfasten the ties of his leather apron, when a
+joyous cry rang through the forge.
+
+It came from the pale-faced, earnest-looking lad, who held up his
+shining new key now completed. "My seventh trial," he shouted, with
+tears in his eyes, "and I know that it is perfect!" and he bounded forth
+in the direction of the wonderful mansion in the forest.
+
+At the sight of the pale boy's success Randal blushed deep red, and bit
+his lip; then, picking up his instruments one by one, he begged the
+master to give him another bit of iron.
+
+After that, the little locksmith wrought the livelong day with more
+energy and greater courage than any one at the forge. Before daybreak
+now he hastened to his work, ever choosing the nearest way, and avoiding
+the wood, lest he might encounter idle Sylvan, the squire's son. But
+once, at eventide, whom should he chance to meet but the gentle,
+pale-faced boy, coming from the fairy house, and looking so radiant and
+happy, that Randal rushed towards him, and questioned him about the
+treasures.
+
+"Oh, Randal!" cried his friend, "you will simply be enchanted when you
+come. For, once within the fairy palace, you must look and listen, and
+laugh, and admire."
+
+"Oh, tell me no more," cried the little locksmith, "my key is almost
+finished!"
+
+After this many more days passed in silent, steady toil; until at last,
+one bright morning in early Spring, as the sunbeams were breaking
+through the mist, Randal quietly laid down his file, and, nervously
+clasping a brightly-polished key in his vigorous young hand, glided
+softly from the smithy, and out into the cool air.
+
+The master locksmith stepped to the threshold to look after him; and,
+as he shaded his hand with his horny palm, and watched the lad's
+retreating figure, a smile of satisfaction and approval flitted across
+his wrinkled face.
+
+The new key turned smoothly in the lock, the door was opened, and he
+entered in.
+
+Randal wandered through the fairy palace. He found himself in beautiful
+apartments, lofty, grand and airy, containing countless lovely and
+curious objects. Some of these he could only look at; others he might
+feel and handle at his pleasure.
+
+There were portraits of kings and great warriors, pictures of
+battlefields and processions, which filled his mind with wonder; of
+quaint streets, and homely firesides, and little children attired in
+funny costumes, that made him laugh, and clap his hands, and hold his
+sides for merriment.
+
+In another apartment were various kinds of coloured glasses and prisms,
+through which the little Langaffer lad looked at strange countries he
+had never dreamed of before. Nay, from a certain oriel window he
+discovered stars, so many and so beautiful that he trembled with
+delight.
+
+And, all the time, there were other children from other villages
+rambling, like Randal, through the chambers of the fairy mansion. They
+moved gently about from room to room, taking one another's hands, and
+holding their breaths in astonishment. And only one subdued murmur
+filled the air of "Oh, how lovely, how fine! Ah, how strange!" For,
+besides all these things, there were exquisite flowers to be seen, and
+animals of every shape and size, and pearls and corals, precious stones
+and sparkling gems, and pretty contrivances for the children to play
+with.
+
+And the very best of it all was, that Randal possessed the key which he
+himself had made. He was as much the lord of the "wonderful palace" now
+as any one!
+
+The villagers were indeed astonished when Randal went home, and related
+to them what he had seen. And they all _respected_ the little locksmith,
+who, by his own honest toil, had gotten what they called, "The Key to
+the Treasures of Fairyland."
+
+
+
+
+ROMANCE IN HISTORY.
+
+
+
+
+HOW CICELY DANCED BEFORE THE KING.
+
+BY THOMAS ARCHER.
+
+
+The old manor-house of Sir Christopher Burroughs of Stolham, Norfolk,
+lay shining in the last rays of the setting sun, on the eve of May Day
+1646. The long range of windows along the front of the building between
+the two buttresses flashed with crimson and gold; for the house faced
+the south-west, and the brilliant light that shone from the rim of the
+blood-red cloud behind which the sun was sinking, glowed deep on the
+diamond panes. But the house was lighted within as well as without. In
+the large low-ceilinged dining-hall wax candles burned in great silver
+sconces, and the cloth was laid for supper. In the upper room the gleams
+that came through the spaces between the heavy curtains showed that
+there was company there. If any one had gone close to the porch and
+listened, he could have heard the sound of voices talking loudly, and
+now and then a laugh, or could have seen the shadows of servants passing
+to and fro in the buttery just within the great hall; nay, any one going
+round the corner of the house where there was an angle of the wall of
+the garden, could have heard from an upper window the sound of a lute
+playing a slow and stately measure, and if his ears had been very sharp
+indeed, he would have detected the light footfalls of dancers on the
+polished oaken floor.
+
+It was an exciting time; for King Charles I and his cavaliers and the
+army that they commanded had been beaten by Oliver Cromwell and the
+soldiers of the Parliament at Naseby, in Northamptonshire, and the King
+had lost all his baggage and his letters and papers. After this Charles
+had been from place to place with his army, till he reached Oxford,
+where his council was staying, and from this town he thought he should
+be able either to get to London or to go northward and join the Scotch
+army.
+
+But news had just come to Sir Christopher Burroughs that Cromwell and
+his general, Fairfax, had marched to Newbury, only a mile from Oxford;
+and though the worthy knight of Stolham was not fighting for the King
+any more than most of his neighbours in Norfolk were, he was more on the
+side of the Royal cause than on that of the Parliament; so that the
+report of the King's danger gave him a good deal of anxiety, and he and
+his friends and their ladies were talking about it as they waited for
+the butler to come and tell them that supper was ready. The troubles of
+the times did not always prevent people from eating and drinking and
+having merry-makings. The people around Stolham did not care enough for
+the Royal cause to give up all pleasures; and some of them--friends of
+Sir Christopher too--were more inclined to side with the Parliament and
+the Puritan generals, though at present they said very little about it;
+and Sir Christopher presently called out,--
+
+"Well, we met not to talk of politics or of the King's affairs; so let
+us to supper, though I cannot but say that I would fain see the ceasing
+of this strife, and the King with his own again."
+
+"Yes, with his own; but not with that which belongs to his subjects,"
+said a farmer, who had been fined for not paying the taxes which the
+King had ordered to be forced upon the people without the consent of
+Parliament.
+
+"Come, come," said Dame Burroughs, laughing and taking the farmer's arm,
+"we women hear enough of such talk every day in the week; but to-morrow
+will be May Day, and there will be open house to our friends, and for
+the lads and lasses, dancing at the May-pole, and a supper in the barn.
+Let us keep English hearts within us even in these dark times, and make
+merry as we can."
+
+"But methinks the May-pole is no more than a pagan thing, an idol to
+encourage to vanity and profane dancing," said a sour-faced man, who had
+been standing by the window.
+
+"It may have been a pagan custom once," said Sir Christopher; "and the
+same may be said of preaching from a pulpit; but all depends on the way
+of it, and not on the thing itself. As to dancing, it is an old custom
+enough; there is Scripture warrant for it perhaps, and it comes
+naturally to all young creatures. I'll be bound, now, that our Dick and
+his little cousin Cicely are at this moment getting the steps of the
+gavotte or the other gambadoes that have come to us from France and
+Spain, that they may figure before the company to-morrow."
+
+"That are they!" said the dame laughing, as a servant opened the door,
+and each of Sir Christopher's friends gave a hand to a lady to lead them
+down to supper. "Hark! don't you hear my kinswoman's lute? Poor, kind
+Dorothy, she will play to them for the hour long, and likes nothing
+better. I can hear their little feet pit-a-patting; and Dick would
+insist on putting on his new fine suit, all brave with Spanish point and
+ribbon velvet, and the boy has buckled on a sword, too, while the little
+puss, Cicely, not to be backward, is all a prop with a stiff petticoat
+and a brocaded fardingale, and has on her little silk cap with the
+pearls, just as I have heard the fashion is among the Queen's French
+ladies of honour. Hark! there they go, tum-tum-ty, tum-twenty-tum,
+tum-twenty-tum! Bless their little hearts!"
+
+The sour-faced man made a grimace; for his wife was just before him, and
+he could see her feet moving in time to the music as they all went down
+into the great hall laughing and talking; nor did the sound of the music
+cease till it was shut out by the closing of the door after they had sat
+down to supper; and even then it came upon them in gushes of melody
+every time a servant opened the door, to bring in another dish or a
+flagon of ale or of wine.
+
+They heard it when, supper being nearly over, the butler came in softly
+and whispered to Sir Christopher, who, asking them to excuse him for a
+moment, went out into the hall.
+
+A horseman was standing there, booted and spurred, and with his riding
+whip in his hand, and his steed was snorting, and scraping the ground
+outside.
+
+"Do you know me again, Sir Christopher?" said the man, in a low voice.
+
+"Let me bring you to the light," muttered the knight, leading him to the
+porch where there was a lantern hanging. "To be sure. I have seen you up
+at Whitehall and at Oxford, too, and are not likely to forget His
+Majesty's Groom of the Chambers. How fares it with our Royal Master?"
+
+"Why, it stands this way, sir, as I take it," whispered the visitor.
+"His Majesty must either fly the country or reach the army of the Scots,
+which he has no liking for, or raise the eastern counties and risk
+another battle. As it is, we have come safe out of Oxford, where Fairfax
+and the arch-rebel Cromwell are closing upon the city, and the king has
+ridden behind me after I had trimmed off his pointed beard, and made him
+look as much like a servant as is possible to his sainted person. I left
+him an hour ago after we had left Deeping, for I came on here to see if
+you could receive him, not according to his rank, but as a plain guest,
+with the name of Thomas Williams; for there are those about who might be
+meddlesome, and His Majesty can only tarry for two or three days,
+waiting for a message from the Scots generals, to be brought by a trusty
+hand. I had feared that His Majesty would have overtaken me, for my
+horse cast a shoe, and came limping along for a mile or more, till at
+the smithy yonder by the roadside I found a farrier."
+
+"Bring my dear friend Mr. Thomas Williams on with you," said Sir
+Christopher loudly, as the door opened and a serving man came out; "he
+shall be welcome for old times' sake when we were at college together,
+and tell him I will not have him put up at the inn while there is a bed
+and a bottle at Stolham Manor."
+
+Now neither Sir Christopher nor this visitor, who was the King's Groom
+of the Chamber, knew that the King, hearing the sound of horsemen behind
+him, had ridden past and turned down a bye-road, which all the same led
+him to Stolham; still less did they imagine that he was actually in the
+old manor house while they were talking there in the hall; because they
+had no notion of what had happened in the room where Mistress Dorothy
+was twanging the lyre, and the two young cousins were footing to the
+tune of Valparaiso Bay.
+
+While the children were in the very midst of a figure and Dick was
+snapping his fingers, and Cicely was making the grand _chasse_, Mistress
+Dorothy, glancing up from her music towards the window, had seen a pale
+face looking through the pane. She was not a woman to scream or to
+faint, for she was a quiet, staid, middle-aged person of much
+experience, and had lived in London, where she went to Court more than
+once with Sir Christopher and her kinswoman Dame Burroughs; so she kept
+on playing, and walked a little nearer to the window. The man who was
+outside--for it was a man, and he had climbed the angle of the wall, and
+now sat amidst the ivy close to the window-sill--beckoned to her, and as
+she advanced opened the breast of his coat, and showed a great jewel
+fastened with a gold chain under his vest.
+
+Another moment, and she had unfastened the window, and he had raised
+himself to the sill and come in. He was dressed like a servant,--a
+groom,--for he wore high riding-boots and spurs, and had a cloak
+strapped round his waist; he seemed to forget to take off his hat, but
+stood still in the middle of the room, as Mistress Dorothy suddenly
+knelt before him, and said in a whisper, "Children, children, kneel; it
+is the King!"
+
+Then the visitor removed his hat and showed his high, handsome face.
+Dick and Cicely also fell on their knees, but the King said, "Rise,
+madam; rise, little ones; and pardon my intrusion. I am travelling
+secretly, and was on my way hither when I found that I was followed, and
+so left my horse at the inn in the next village, and walked on. I would
+not that Sir Christopher Burroughs should be summoned, for my pursuers
+will ere long be at the gate, and, not finding me here, may pass."
+
+Now Dick Burroughs was as sharp a little blade as could be found between
+Stolham and Land's End, and quick as lightning he said, "But, Majesty,
+if it be no offence, let Cousin Cicely and I go on with our dancing, for
+there be some friends of Sir Christopher at supper, and should they or
+the servants no longer hear the lute, and think that we be tired, they
+may be sent to call us to bed, seeing that to-morrow will be May Day,
+and we shall rise early."
+
+"And then, Your Majesty," lisped Cicely, "if anybody break in and come
+up here and see us dancing, they will go away, and you can hide behind
+the hangings yonder."
+
+"You are a bright lad, and you a loyal little lady," said Charles, with
+a grave smile.
+
+"There is a horseman coming up the road," said Dick, in a whisper. "Your
+Majesty had best find a hiding-place, and I will show it you. Above this
+room is the turret, and behind the hangings here is a door, where a
+ladder goes straight up the wall to take you to the turret-room, from
+which you can see far up and down the road. Let me go first and light
+Your Majesty, and carry your cloak." Then, taking a candle from the
+music stand, he began to mount the steps.
+
+"Thou'rt a brave lad," said the King, "and I'll follow thee."
+
+"And it shall go hard but I'll get thee some supper, your Majesty," said
+Dick; "but Cis and I must keep on dancing till all the guests be
+gone,--and you will see who comes and leaves,--even if it be till
+daybreak, for there is a May moon shining all night."
+
+"Now, Mistress Dorothy, now, Cis," cried Dick, when he had come down and
+closed door and curtain, "music, music, for we must keep on dancing."
+The dancing never ceased, but Dick stole to the buttery and found a pie
+and a flagon of wine, which he carried with cup, knife, and napkin, to
+the King in the turret-room, and then down to dance again, till his legs
+ached and poor Cicely began to droop.
+
+There was a knock at the door, and the stumbling of feet upon the stair,
+and then the voice of Sir Christopher outside saying, "What warrant ye
+have to enter this house I know not; but as you take not my word, look
+for yourselves.' With that he opened the door, and two men looked into
+the room.
+
+"Dance up, Cis," whispered Dick, who gave a skip, and pretended to see
+nobody. "Play a little faster, Mistress Dorothy."
+
+"Now," said Sir Christopher, to the two fellows who stood outside,
+"mayhap you will leave these children to their sport till it is time for
+them to go to bed;" and with that he shut the door, and the fellows went
+lumbering down the stair. It seemed to be hours afterward when Sir
+Christopher again appeared. He opened the door suddenly, and he was not
+alone. Dame Burroughs was with him and a strange gentleman.
+
+"What! not in bed, you naughty rogues!" he said, as his eye fell on
+Cissy, who was sitting on the floor, her head upon her hands, fast
+asleep.
+
+"Dick, lad, what ails thee?" For Dick was standing by the hangings with
+the sword that he carried half-drawn from the scabbard, and great black
+rings round his eyes, and his legs trembling.
+
+"Come, Dick," said the knight, "this is His Majesty's Groom of the
+Chambers, and I would that we knew where our royal master could be
+found."
+
+"Here he is," said a deep voice from behind the curtain, as the King
+drew it aside and stepped into the room. The music ceased, Madame
+Dorothy gave a great cry. Charles stooped and caught up Cicely from the
+ground in his arms and kissed her.
+
+"Come, sweetheart," he said, "thou hast danced for the King till thou
+art half-dead, but the King will not forget thee. Richard, thou'rt a
+brave lad, and thou must come and kiss me, too. If we both live, thou
+shalt not repent having served Charles Stuart both with head and feet."
+
+
+
+
+A MOTHER OF QUEENS.
+
+_A ROMANCE OF HISTORY._
+
+
+One day, I will not say how many years ago, a young woman stepped from a
+country waggon that had just arrived at the famous Chelsea inn, "the
+Goat and Compasses," a name formed by corrupting time out of the pious
+original, "God encompasseth us."
+
+The young woman seemed about eighteen years of age and was neatly
+dressed, though in the plain rustic fashion of the times. She was well
+formed and good-looking, both form and looks giving indications of the
+ruddy health due to the bright sun and the fresh air of the country.
+
+After stepping from the waggon, which the driver immediately led into
+the court-yard, the girl stood for a moment uncertain which way to go,
+when the mistress of the inn, who had come to the door, observed her
+hesitation, and asked her to enter and take a rest.
+
+The young woman readily accepted the invitation, and soon after, by the
+kindness of the landlady, found herself by the fireside of a nicely
+sanded parlour, with a good meal before her--welcome indeed after her
+long and tedious journey.
+
+"And so, my girl," said the landlady, after having heard the whole
+particulars of the young woman's situation and history, "so thou hast
+come all this way to seek service, and hast no friend but John Hodge,
+the waggoner? Truly, he is like to give thee but small help, wench,
+towards getting a place."
+
+"Is service, then, difficult to be had?" asked the young woman, sadly.
+
+"Ay, marry, good situations, at least, are somewhat hard to find. But
+have a good heart, child," said the landlady, and as she continued she
+looked round her with an air of pride and dignity; "thou see'st what I
+have come to, myself; and I left the country a young thing, just like
+thyself, with as little to look to. But 'tisn't every one, for certain,
+that must look for such a fortune, and, in any case, it must first be
+worked for. I showed myself a good servant before my poor old Jacob,
+heaven rest his soul, made me mistress of 'the Goat and Compasses.' So
+mind thee, girl----"
+
+The landlady's speech might have continued indefinitely--for the good
+dame loved well to hear the sound of her own voice--but for the
+interruption occasioned by the entrance of a gentleman, whom the
+landlady rose and welcomed heartily.
+
+"Ha! dame," said the new-comer, who was a stout respectably attired man
+of middle age, "how sells the good ale? Scarcely a drop left in thy
+cellars, I hope?"
+
+"Enough left to give your worship a draught after your long walk," said
+the landlady, as she rose to fulfil the promise implied in her words. "I
+did not walk," was the gentleman's reply, "but took a pair of oars down
+the river. Thou know'st, dame, I always come to Chelsea myself to see if
+thou lackest anything."
+
+"Ay, sir," replied the landlady, "and it is by that way of doing
+business that you have made yourself, as all the city says, the richest
+man in the Brewers' Corporation, if not in all London itself."
+
+"Well, dame, the better for me if it is so," said the brewer, with a
+smile; "but let us have thy mug, and this pretty friend of thine shall
+pleasure us, mayhap, by tasting with us."
+
+The landlady was not long in producing a stoup of ale, knowing that her
+visitor never set an example hurtful to his own interests by
+countenancing the consumption of foreign spirits.
+
+"Right, hostess," said the brewer, when he had tasted it, "well made and
+well kept, and that is giving both thee and me our dues. Now, pretty
+one," said he, filling one of the measures or glasses which had been
+placed beside the stoup, "wilt thou drink this to thy sweetheart's
+health?"
+
+The poor country girl to whom this was addressed declined the proffer
+civilly, and with a blush; but the landlady exclaimed:
+
+"Come, silly wench, drink his worship's health; he is more likely to do
+thee a service, if it so please him, than John the waggoner. The girl
+has come many a mile," continued the hostess, "to seek a place in town,
+that she may burden her family no more at home."
+
+"To seek service!" exclaimed the brewer; "why, then, it is perhaps well
+met with us. Has she brought a character with her, or can you speak for
+her, dame?"
+
+"She has never yet been from home, sir, but her face is her character,"
+said the kind-hearted landlady; "I warrant me she will be a diligent and
+trusty one."
+
+"Upon thy prophecy, hostess, will I take her into my own service; for
+but yesterday was my housekeeper complaining of the want of help, since
+my office in the corporation has brought me more into the way of
+entertaining the people of the ward."
+
+Ere the wealthy brewer and deputy left "the Goat and Compasses,"
+arrangements were made for sending the country girl to his house in the
+city on the following day.
+
+Proud of having done a kind action, the garrulous hostess took advantage
+of the circumstance to deliver a long harangue to the young woman on her
+new duties, and on the dangers to which youth is exposed in large
+cities. The girl listened to her with modest thankfulness, but a more
+minute observer than the good landlady might have seen in the eye and
+countenance of the girl a quiet firmness of expression, such as might
+have shown the lecture to be unnecessary. However, the landlady's
+lecture ended, and towards the evening of the day following her arrival
+at "the Goat and Compasses," the girl found herself installed as
+housemaid in the home of the rich brewer.
+
+The fortunes of this girl it is our purpose to follow. It was not long
+before the post of housekeeper became vacant, and the girl, recommended
+by her own industry and skill, became housekeeper in the brewer's
+family. In this situation she was brought more than formerly into
+contact with her master, who found ample grounds for admiring her
+propriety of conduct, as well as her skilful economy of management. By
+degrees he began to find her presence necessary to his happiness; and at
+length offered her his hand. It was accepted; and she, who but four or
+five years before had left her country home a poor peasant girl, became
+the wife of one of the richest citizens of London.
+
+For many years, Mr. Aylesbury, for such was the name of the brewer, and
+his wife, lived in happiness and comfort together. He was a man of good
+family and connections, and consequently of higher breeding than his
+wife could boast of, but on no occasion had he ever to blush for the
+partner whom he had chosen.
+
+Her calm, inborn strength, if not dignity, of character, united with an
+extreme quickness of perception, made her fill her place at her
+husband's table with as much grace and credit as if she had been born to
+the station. As time ran on, Mr. Aylesbury became an alderman, and,
+subsequently, a sheriff of the city, and in consequence of the latter
+elevation, was knighted.
+
+Afterwards the important place which the wealthy brewer filled in the
+city called down upon him the attention and favour of the king, Charles
+I., then anxious to conciliate the goodwill of the citizens, and the
+city knight received the farther honour of a baronetcy.
+
+Lady Aylesbury, in the first years of her married life, gave birth to a
+daughter, who proved an only child, and around whom, as was natural, all
+the hopes and wishes of the parents entwined themselves. This daughter
+had only reached the age of seventeen when her father died, leaving an
+immense fortune behind him.
+
+It was at first thought that the widow and her daughter would become
+inheritors of this without the shadow of a dispute. But it proved
+otherwise. Certain relatives of the deceased brewer set up a plea upon
+the foundation of a will made in their favour before he married.
+
+With her wonted firmness, Lady Aylesbury immediately took steps for the
+vindication of her rights.
+
+A young lawyer, who had been a frequent guest at her husband's table,
+and of whose abilities she had formed a high opinion, was the person
+whom she fixed upon as her legal representative. Edward Hyde was,
+indeed, a youth of great ability. Though only twenty-four years of age
+at the period referred to, and though he had spent much of his youthful
+time in the society of the gay and fashionable of the day, he had not
+neglected the pursuits to which his family's wish, as well as his own
+tastes, had devoted him. But it was with considerable hesitation, and
+with a feeling of anxious diffidence, that he consented to undertake the
+charge of Lady Aylesbury's case; for certain feelings were at work in
+his heart which made him fearful of the responsibility, and anxious
+about the result.
+
+The young lawyer, however, became counsel for the brewer's widow and
+daughter, and, by a striking display of eloquence and legal knowledge,
+gained their suit.
+
+Two days afterwards, the successful pleader was seated beside his two
+clients. Lady Aylesbury's usual manner was quiet and composed, but she
+now spoke warmly of her gratitude to the preserver of her daughter from
+want, and also tendered a fee--a payment munificent, indeed, for the
+occasion.
+
+The young barrister did not seem at ease during Lady Aylesbury's
+expression of her feelings. He shifted upon his chair, changed colour,
+looked to Miss Aylesbury, played with the purse before him, tried to
+speak, but stopped short, and changed colour again. Thinking only of
+best expressing her own gratitude, Lady Aylesbury appeared not to
+observe her visitor's confusion, but rose, saying:
+
+"In token that I hold your services above compensation in the way of
+money, I wish also to give you a memorial of my gratitude in another
+shape."
+
+As she spoke thus, she drew from her pocket a bunch of keys such as
+every lady carried in those days, and left the room.
+
+What passed during her absence between the young people whom she had
+left together will be shown by the sequel. When Lady Aylesbury returned,
+she found her daughter standing with averted eyes, with her hand in that
+of the young barrister, who knelt on the mother's entrance, and besought
+her consent to their union. Confessions of mutual affection ensued, and
+Lady Aylesbury was not long in giving her consent to their wishes.
+
+"Give me leave, however," said she to the lover, "to place around your
+neck the memorial which I intended for you. The chain"--it was a superb
+gold one--"was a token of gratitude, from the ward in which he lived, to
+my dear husband." Lady Aylesbury's calm, serious eyes were filled with
+tears as she threw the chain round Edward's neck, saying, "These links
+were borne on the neck of a worthy and an honoured man. May thou, my
+beloved son, attain to still higher honours."
+
+The wish was fulfilled, though not until danger and suffering had tried
+severely the parties concerned. The son-in-law of Lady Aylesbury became
+an eminent member of the English bar, and also an important speaker in
+Parliament.
+
+When Oliver Cromwell brought the king to the scaffold, and established
+the Commonwealth, Sir Edward Hyde--for he had held a government post,
+and had been knighted--was too prominent a member of the royalist party
+to escape the attention of the new rulers, and was obliged to reside
+upon the continent till the Restoration.
+
+While abroad, he was so much esteemed by the exiled prince (afterwards
+Charles II.) as to be appointed Lord High Chancellor of England, which
+appointment was confirmed when the king was restored to his throne. Some
+years afterwards, Hyde was elevated to the peerage, first in the rank of
+a baron, and subsequently as Earl of Clarendon, a title which he made
+famous in English history.
+
+These events, so briefly narrated, occupied considerable time, during
+which Lady Aylesbury passed her days in quiet and retirement. She had
+now the gratification of beholding her daughter Countess of Clarendon,
+and of seeing the grandchildren who had been born to her mingling as
+equals with the noblest in the land.
+
+But a still more exalted fate awaited the descendants of the poor
+friendless girl who had come to London, in search of service, in a
+waggoner's van. Her granddaughter, Anne Hyde, a young lady of spirit,
+wit, and beauty, had been appointed, while her family were living
+abroad, one of the maids of honour to the Princess of Orange, and in
+that situation had attracted so strongly the regard of James, Duke of
+York, and brother of Charles II., that he contracted a private marriage
+with her.
+
+The birth of a child forced on a public announcement of this contract,
+and ere long the granddaughter of Lady Aylesbury was openly received by
+the Royal Family, and the people of England, as Duchess of York, and
+sister-in-law of the sovereign.
+
+Lady Aylesbury did not long survive this event. But ere she sunk into
+the grave, at a ripe old age, she saw her descendants heirs-presumptive
+of the British Crown. King Charles had married, but had no children,
+and, accordingly, his brother's family had the prospect and the right of
+succession. And, in reality, two immediate descendants of the poor
+peasant girl did ultimately fill the throne--Mary (wife of William
+III.), and Queen Anne.
+
+Such were the fortunes of the young woman whom the worthy landlady of
+"the Goat and Compasses" was fearful of encouraging to rash hopes by a
+reference to the lofty position it had been her good fortune to attain
+in life. In one assertion, at least, the hostess was undoubtedly
+right--success in life must be laboured for in some way or other.
+Without the prudence and propriety of conduct which won the esteem and
+love of her wealthy employer, the sequel of the country girl's history
+could not have been such as it was.
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF GRIZEL COCHRANE.
+
+_A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE._
+
+BY W. R. C.
+
+
+Sir John Cochrane of Ochiltree, the father of our heroine, was the
+second son of the first Earl of Dundonald. He was a distinguished friend
+of Sidney, Russell, and other illustrious men, who signalised themselves
+in England by their opposition to the court; and he had so long
+endeavoured in vain to procure some improvement in the national affairs,
+that he at length began to despair of his country altogether, and formed
+the design of emigrating to America. Having gone to London in 1683, with
+a view to a colonising expedition to South Carolina, he became involved
+in the deliberations of the Whig party, which at that time tended
+towards a general insurrection in England and Scotland, for the purpose
+of forcing an alteration of the royal councils and the exclusion of the
+Duke of York from the throne. In furtherance of this plan, Sir John
+pledged himself to assist the Earl of Argyle in raising the malcontents
+in Scotland.
+
+By the treachery of some of the subordinate agents this design was
+detected prematurely; and while some were unfortunately taken and
+executed, among whom were Sidney and Lord Russell, the rest fled from
+the kingdom. Of the latter number were the Earl of Argyle, Sir John
+Cochrane, and Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth. The fugitives found safety
+in Holland, where they remained in peace till the death of Charles II.
+in February 1685, when the Duke of York, the object politically of their
+greatest detestation, became king. It was then determined to invade
+Scotland with a small force, to embody the Highland adherents of Argyle
+with the west country Presbyterians, and, marching into England, to
+raise the people as they moved along, and not rest till they had
+produced the desired melioration of the state. The expedition sailed in
+May; but the Government was enabled to take such precautions as, from
+the very first, proved a complete frustration to their designs. Argyle
+lingered timidly in his own country, and, finally, against the advice of
+Cochrane and Hume, who were his chief officers, made some unfortunate
+movements, which ended in the entire dissolution of his army, and his
+own capture and death. While this well-meaning but weak nobleman
+committed himself to a low disguise, in the vain hope of effecting his
+escape, Sir John Cochrane, after a gallant fight against overwhelming
+numbers, finding his enemies were gathering large reinforcements,
+retired with his troops to a neighbouring wilderness or morass, where he
+dismissed them, with the request that each man would provide the best
+way he could for his own safety. For himself, having received two severe
+wounds in the body during the engagement, and being worn out with
+fatigue, he sought refuge in the house of his uncle, Mr. Gavin Cochrane
+of Craigmuir, who lived at no great distance from the place of
+encounter. Here he was seized and removed to Edinburgh, where, after
+being paraded through the streets bound and bare-headed, and conducted
+by the common hangman, he was lodged in the tollbooth on July 3rd, 1685,
+there to await his trial as a traitor. The day of trial came, and he was
+condemned to death, in spite of the most strenuous exertions of his aged
+father, Earl of Dundonald.
+
+No friend or relative had been permitted to see him from the time of his
+apprehension; but it was now signified to him that any of his family he
+desired to communicate with might be allowed to visit him. Anxious,
+however, to deprive his enemies of an opportunity of an accusation
+against his sons, he immediately conveyed to them his earnest
+entreaties, and indeed commands, that they should refrain from availing
+themselves of this leave till the night before his execution. This was a
+sacrifice which it required his utmost fortitude to make; and it had
+left him to a sense of the most desolate loneliness, insomuch that,
+when, late in the evening, he heard his prison door unlocked, he lifted
+not his eyes toward it, imagining that the person who entered could only
+be the gaoler, who was particularly repulsive in his countenance and
+manner. What, then, was his surprise and momentary delight when he
+beheld before him his only daughter, and felt her arms entwining his
+neck! After the first transport of greeting she became sensible that, in
+order to palliate his misery, she must put a strong curb upon her own,
+and in a short time was calm enough to enter into conversation with her
+father upon the subject of his present situation, and to deliver a
+message from the old earl, her grandfather, by which he was informed
+that an appeal had been made from him to the king, and means taken to
+propitiate Father Peters, his Majesty's confessor, who, it was well
+known, often dictated to him in matters of state. It appeared evident,
+however, by the turn which their discourse presently took, that neither
+father nor daughter were at all sanguine in their hopes from this
+negotiation. The Earl of Argyle had been executed but a few days before,
+as had also several of his principal adherents, though men of less
+consequence than Sir John Cochrane; and it was therefore improbable that
+he, who had been so conspicuously active in the insurrection, should be
+allowed to escape the punishment which his enemies had it now in their
+power to inflict. Besides all this, the treaty to be entered into with
+Father Peters would require some time to adjust, and meanwhile the
+arrival of the warrant for execution must every day be looked for.
+
+Under these circumstances, several days passed, each of which found Miss
+Grizel Cochrane an inmate of her father's prison for as many hours as
+she was permitted. Grizel Cochrane was only at that period eighteen
+years old; she had, however, a natural strength of character, that
+rendered her capable of a deed which has caused her history to vie with
+that of the most distinguished of heroines.
+
+Ever since her father's condemnation, her daily and nightly thoughts had
+dwelt on the fear of her grandfather's communication with the king's
+confessor being rendered unavailable for want of the time necessary for
+enabling the friends in London to whom it was trusted, to make their
+application, and she boldly determined to execute a plan, whereby the
+arrival of the death-warrant would be retarded.
+
+At that time horses were used as a mode of conveyance so much more than
+carriages that almost every gentlewoman had her own steed, and Miss
+Cochrane, being a skilful rider, was possessed of a well-managed
+palfrey, on whose speed and other good qualities she had been accustomed
+to depend. One morning after she had bidden her father farewell, long
+ere the inhabitants of Edinburgh were astir, she found herself many
+miles on the road to the borders. She had taken care to attire herself
+in a manner which corresponded with the design of passing herself off
+for a young serving-woman journeying on a borrowed horse to the house of
+her mother in a distant part of the country; and by only resting at
+solitary cottages, where she generally found the family out at work,
+save perhaps an old woman or some children, she had the good fortune, on
+the second day after leaving Edinburgh, to reach in safety the abode of
+her old nurse, who lived on the English side of the Tweed, four miles
+beyond the town of Berwick. In this woman she knew she could place
+implicit confidence, and to her, therefore, revealed her secret. She had
+resolved, she said, to make an attempt to save her father's life, by
+stopping the postman, an equestrian like herself, and forcing him to
+deliver up his bags, in which she expected to find the fatal warrant. In
+pursuance of this design she had brought with her a brace of small
+pistols, together with a horseman's cloak, tied up in a bundle, and hung
+on the crutch of her saddle, and now borrowed from her nurse the attire
+of her foster-brother, which, as he was a slight-made lad, fitted her
+reasonably well.
+
+She had, by means which it is unnecessary here to detail, possessed
+herself of the most minute information with regard to the places at
+which the postmen rested on their journey, one of which was a small
+public-house, kept by a widow woman, on the outskirts of the little town
+of Belford. There the man who received the bag at Durham was accustomed
+to arrive about six o'clock in the morning, and take a few hours' repose
+before proceeding farther on his journey. In pursuance of the plan laid
+down by Miss Cochrane, she arrived at this inn about an hour after the
+man had composed himself to sleep, in the hope of being able, by the
+exercise of her wit and dexterity, to ease him of his charge.
+
+Having put her horse into the stable, which was a duty that devolved on
+the guests at this little change-house, from its mistress having no
+ostler, she entered the only apartment which the house afforded, and
+demanded some refreshment. "Sit down at the end of that table," said the
+old woman, "for the best I have to give you is there already; and be
+pleased, my bonny man, to make as little noise as ye can, for there's
+ane asleep in that bed that I like ill to disturb." Miss Cochrane
+promised fairly; and after attempting to eat some of the viands, which
+were the remains of the sleeping man's meal, she asked for some cold
+water. "What," said the old dame, as she handed it to her, "ye are a
+water-drinker, are ye? It's but an ill custom for a change-house." "I am
+aware of that," replied her guest, "and, therefore, when in a public
+house, always pay for it the price of the stronger potation, which I
+cannot take." "Indeed--well, that is but just," responded the dame, "and
+I think the more of you for such reasonable conduct." "Is the well where
+you get this water near at hand?" said the young lady; "for if you will
+take the trouble to bring me some from it, as this is rather warm, it
+shall be considered in the lawing." "It is a good bit off," said the
+woman; "but I cannot refuse to fetch some for such a civil, discreet
+lad, and will be as quick as I can. But, for any sake, take care and
+don't meddle with these pistols," she continued, pointing to a pair of
+pistols on the table, "for they are loaded, and I am always terrified
+for them." Saying this, she disappeared; and Miss Cochrane, who would
+have contrived some other errand for her had the well been near, no
+sooner saw the door shut than she passed, with trembling eagerness, and
+a cautious but rapid step, across the floor to the place where the man
+lay soundly sleeping in one of those close wooden bedsteads common in
+the houses of the poor, the door of which was left half open to admit
+the air, and which she opened still wider, in the hope of seeing the
+mail-bag and being able to seize upon it. But what was her dismay when
+she beheld only a part of the integument which contained what she would
+have sacrificed her life a thousand times to obtain just peeping out
+from below the shaggy head and brawny shoulders of its keeper, who lay
+in such a position upon it as to give not the smallest hope of its
+extraction without his being aroused from his nap. A few moments of
+observation served to convince her that, if she obtained possession of
+this treasure, it must be in some other way, and again closing the door
+of the bed, she approached the pistols, and having taken them one by one
+from the holsters she as quickly as possible drew out their loading,
+which, having secreted, she returned them to their cases, and resumed
+her seat at the foot of the table. Here she had barely time to recover
+from the agitation into which the fear of the man's awaking during her
+recent occupation had thrown her, when the old woman returned with the
+water, and having taken a draught, of which she stood much in need, she
+settled her account, much to her landlady's content, by paying for the
+water the price of a pot of beer. Having then carelessly asked and
+ascertained how much longer the other guest was likely to continue his
+sleep, she left the house, and mounting her horse, set off at a trot, in
+a different direction from that in which she had arrived. Fetching a
+compass of two or three miles, she once more fell into the high road
+between Belford and Berwick, where she walked her horse gently on,
+awaiting the coming up of the postman. On his coming close up, she
+civilly saluted him, put her horse into the same pace with his, and rode
+on for some way in his company. He was a strong, thick-set fellow, with
+a good-humoured countenance, which did not seem to Miss Cochrane, as she
+looked anxiously upon it, to savour much of hardy daring. He rode with
+the mail-bags strapped firmly to his saddle in front, close to the
+holsters (for there were two), one containing the letters direct from
+London, and the other those taken up at the different post-offices on
+the road. After riding a short distance together, Miss Cochrane deemed
+it time, as they were nearly half-way between Belford and Berwick, to
+commence her operations. She therefore rode nearly close to her
+companion, and said, in a tone of determination, "Friend, I have taken a
+fancy for those mail-bags of yours, and I must have them; therefore take
+my advice, and deliver them up quietly, for I am provided for all
+hazards. I am mounted, as you see, on a fleet steed; I carry firearms;
+and, moreover, am allied with those who are stronger, though not bolder
+than myself. You see yonder wood," she continued, pointing to one at the
+distance of about a mile, with an accent and air which was meant to
+carry intimidation with it. "Again, I say, take my advice; give me the
+bags, and speed back the road you came for the present, nor dare to
+approach that wood for at least two or three hours to come."
+
+There was in such language from a stripling something so surprising that
+the man looked on Miss Cochrane for an instant in silent and unfeigned
+amazement. "If," said he, as soon as he found his tongue, "you mean, my
+young master, to make yourself merry at my expense, you are welcome. I
+am no sour churl to take offence at the idle words of a foolish boy. But
+if," he said, taking one of his pistols from the holster, and turning
+its muzzle toward her, "ye are mad enough to harbour one serious thought
+of such a matter, I am ready for you. But, methinks, my lad, you seem at
+an age when robbing a garden or an old woman's fruit-stall would befit
+you better, if you must turn thief, than taking his Majesty's mails from
+a stout man such as I am upon his highway. Be thankful, however, that
+you have met with one who will not shed blood if he can help it, and
+sheer off before you provoke me to fire."
+
+"Nay," said his young antagonist, "I am not fonder of bloodshed than you
+are; but if you will not be persuaded, what can I do? for I have told
+you a truth, _that mail I must and will have_. So now choose," she
+continued, as she drew one of the small pistols from under her cloak,
+and deliberately cocking it, presented it in his face.
+
+"Nay, then, your blood be on your own head," said the fellow, as he
+raised his hand, and fired his pistol, which, however, only flashed in
+the pan. Dashing this weapon to the ground, he lost not a moment in
+pulling out the other, which he also aimed at his assailant, and fired
+with the same result. In a transport of rage and disappointment the man
+sprang from his horse and made an attempt to seize her; but, by an
+adroit use of her spurs, she eluded his grasp and placed herself out of
+his reach. Meanwhile, his horse had moved forward some yards, and to see
+and seize the advantage presented by this circumstance was one and the
+same to the heroic girl, who, darting toward it, caught the bridle, and
+having led her prize off about a hundred yards, stopped while she called
+to the thunderstruck postman to remind him of her advice about the wood.
+She then put both horses to their speed, and on turning to look at the
+man she had robbed, had the pleasure of perceiving that her mysterious
+threat had taken effect, and he was now pursuing his way back to
+Belford.
+
+Miss Cochrane speedily entered the wood to which she had alluded, and
+tying the strange horse to a tree, out of all observation from the road,
+proceeded to unfasten the straps of the mail. By means of a sharp
+penknife, which set at defiance the appended locks, she was soon
+mistress of the contents, and with an eager hand broke open the
+Government despatches, which were unerringly pointed out to her by their
+address to the council in Edinburgh and their imposing weight and broad
+seals of office. Here she found not only the fatal warrant for her
+father's death, but also many other sentences inflicting different
+degrees of punishment on various delinquents. These, however, it may
+readily be supposed, she did not then stop to examine; she contented
+herself with tearing them into small fragments and placing them
+carefully in her bosom.
+
+The intrepid girl now mounted her steed and rode off, leaving all the
+private papers where she had found them, imagining (what eventually
+proved the case) that they would be discovered ere long from the hints
+she had thrown out about the wood, and thus reach their proper places of
+destination. She now made all haste to reach the cottage of her nurse,
+where, having not only committed to the flames the fragments of the
+dreaded warrant, but also the other obnoxious papers, she quickly
+resumed her female garments, and was again, after this manly and daring
+action, the simple and unassuming Miss Grizel Cochrane. Leaving the
+cloak and pistols behind her, to be concealed by her nurse, she again
+mounted her horse and directed her flight towards Edinburgh, and, by
+avoiding as much as possible the high road, and resting at sequestered
+cottages, as she had done before, and that only twice for a couple of
+hours each time, she reached town early in the morning of the next day.
+
+It must now suffice to say that the time gained by the heroic act
+related above was productive of the end for which it was undertaken, and
+that Sir John Cochrane was pardoned, at the instigation of the king's
+favourite counsellor, who interceded for him in consequence of receiving
+a bribe of five thousand pounds from the Earl of Dundonald.
+
+
+
+
+A WIFE'S STRATAGEM.
+
+_A TALE OF 1715._
+
+BY LUCY HARDY.
+
+
+It was with mingled feelings of annoyance and satisfaction that old Lady
+Glenlivet and her daughters received the intelligence that the only son
+of the house was about to bring an English bride to the grey old Scotch
+mansion where so many generations of his "forbears" had lived and died.
+
+Sir Alick was six-and-twenty, and it was therefore fully time that he
+should marry and carry on the traditions of the house, and, as the
+Glenlivet's fortune did not match their "long pedigree," it was
+distinctly an advantage that the newly-wedded bride was so well dowered.
+But then, on the other hand, Mistress Mary Wilkinson was an
+Englishwoman, and Lady Glenlivet more than suspected the fact (adroitly
+veiled in her son's letter) that the young lady's fortune had been made
+in trade.
+
+Sir Alick Glenlivet, visiting London for the first time in his life, had
+been hospitably entertained by a distant kinsman, a Scotch lawyer, who
+had settled in the English metropolis; and at his house had met with the
+orphan heiress of a substantial city trader, to whom Simon Glenlivet was
+guardian. To Alick, bred up in the comparative seclusion and obscurity
+of his Scottish home, the plunge into London life was as bewildering as
+delightful; and he soon thought sweet Mary Wilkinson, with her soft blue
+eyes and gentle voice, the fairest creature his eyes had ever rested
+upon; while to Mary, the handsome young Scotchman was like the hero in a
+Border tale.
+
+"Happy the wooing that's not long a-doing." Mistress Mary was
+twenty-two, so of legal age to please herself in her choice of a
+husband; while Simon Glenlivet was still sufficiently a Scotchman at
+heart to consider an alliance with the "ancient and noble family" with
+which he himself claimed kinship an advantage which might fairly
+outbalance his lack of fortune.
+
+To do the young man justice, Mary's wealth counted for nothing in his
+choice; he would as readily have married her had the fortune been all on
+his side. Indeed, it was with some qualms of conscience that Sir Alick
+now wrote to inform his mother of the sudden step which he had taken;
+half fearing that, in the eyes of the proud old Scotch dame, even Mary's
+beauty and fortune could scarcely compensate for her lack of "long
+descent."
+
+And indeed, Lady Glenlivet's Highland pride was not at all well pleased
+to learn that her son had wedded a trader's daughter; though Mary (or
+Maisie, as her husband now called her) had received the education of a
+refined gentlewoman, and was far more well bred and accomplished than
+were the two tall, awkward daughters of the Glenlivet household; or, for
+the matter of that, than was the "auld leddy hersel'."
+
+Lady Glenlivet, however, loved her son, and stifled down her feelings of
+disapproval for his sake. It was undeniable that Mary's money came in
+most usefully in paying off the mortgages which had so long crippled the
+Glenlivet estate; and when the bride and bridegroom arrived at their
+Scotch home, the ladies were speechless in their admiration at the
+bride's "providing." Such marvels of lace and brocades, such treasures
+of jewellery, such a display of new fashions had never been known in the
+neighbourhood before; and Isobel and Barbara, if not inclined to fall
+rapturously in love with their new sister, at least utterly lost their
+hearts over her wardrobe--not such a very extensive or extravagant one
+after all, the bride had thought; but, in the eighteenth century, a
+wealthy London trader's only child would be reared in a far more
+luxurious manner than the daughters of many a "long descended" Scotch
+household.
+
+Mary, or Maisie, certainly found her new home lacking in many comforts
+which were almost necessaries in her eyes; but the girl was young, and
+sweet-tempered, and devotedly attached to her brave young husband, who
+equally adored his young wife. The prejudice excited against the
+new-comer on the score of her nationality and social rank softened down
+as the months went by; although old Lady Glenlivet often remarked that
+Maisie was "just English" whenever the younger lady's opinions or wishes
+did not entirely coincide with her own.
+
+In the kindly patriarchial fashion of Scottish households of the day,
+Sir Alick's mother and sisters still resided under his roof; and Maisie,
+gentle and retiring by nature, never dreamt of attempting to depose the
+old lady from her position of house-mistress; so the "auld leddy" still
+kept the keys, and ruled the servants, and was as busy and notable as of
+yore; her new daughter being, in truth, often far more submissive to the
+good dame's sway than were either Isobel or Barbara, who occasionally
+"took the dorts" and would have their own wills.
+
+Yet Maisie was happy enough in her new life--for had she not Alick and
+his devotion?--until dark clouds began to gather in the political
+horizon.
+
+It was the year 1715, a year to be remembered in many an English and
+Scottish household for many a year to come. Whispers of plots and
+conspiracies were flying about the land; for the coming of the "wee
+German lairdie" was by no means universally acceptable, and many
+Jacobites who had acquiesced in the accession of "good Queen Anne"
+herself (a member of the ancient royal house), now shrank from
+acknowledging "the Elector" as their monarch. Simon Glenlivet, a shrewd
+and prudent man, who had lived in London and watched the course of
+political events, had long ago laid aside any romantic enthusiasm for
+the cause of the exiled Stuarts, if he had ever possessed such a
+feeling; realising perhaps the truth of Sir John Maynard's reply to
+William III. when the king asked the old man if he had not survived
+"all his brother lawyers," "Ay, and if your Majesty had not come, I
+might shortly _have survived the law itself_."
+
+Maisie's father, like most of his brother-citizens, had welcomed the
+"Deliverer" with acclamations, and would doubtless have greeted the
+accession of George I. with equal enthusiasm had he lived to witness it.
+It was only after she crossed the Border that Maisie had heard the son
+of James II. alluded to save as the "Pretender," to whom his enemies
+denied any kinship with the Stuarts at all. Maisie, wise and discreet
+beyond her years, speedily learnt to stifle her own political opinions
+amid her husband's family circle; though indeed she was no eager
+supporter of any party. She had been duly taught that it was a duty to
+submit to the "powers that be," and to pray daily for the king; and like
+a dutiful little maiden of her time, piously obeyed her teacher's and
+guardian's injunctions, without troubling her head as to whether the
+actual lawful monarch of England was keeping his court at St. Germains
+or St. James'. And Maisie's husband, to tell the truth, was scarcely a
+more vehement or interested politician than herself; though Sir Alick
+called himself a Jacobite because his father and mother had been
+Jacobites before him. Lady Glenlivet, a woman of narrow education and
+deeply rooted prejudices, was a strong partisan of the Stuart cause;
+strong with all the unreasoning vehemence of a worthy but ignorant
+woman. So, when the Earl of Mar's disastrous expedition was being
+secretly organised, the emissaries of the plotters found ready
+acceptance with the "auld leddy," who scrupled not to press and urge her
+son to join the "glorious undertaking" which should restore her lawful
+king to Scotland and bring added honours and lands to the Glenlivet
+family. Sir Alick, supremely happy in his domestic life, had at first
+small desire for embarking in the hazardous scheme of the wisdom and
+justice of which he felt less positively assured than did his mother.
+Sir Alick had seen something of the world during his visit to London,
+and had not been entirely uninfluenced by the views of his wise
+kinsman. But Lady Glenlivet was not the only foolish woman at that epoch
+who forced a wiser judging husband, son, or brother into joining a
+conspiracy which his better sense condemned; and Sir Alick, always
+greatly under his mother's influence, at length consented to attend that
+historic meeting at Braemar in the autumn of 1715, where, under pretence
+of a hunting party, the Earl of Mar assembled the disaffected Scottish
+nobility and gentry, and raised the Stuart standard, proclaiming King
+James III. of England and VII. of Scotland.
+
+The "fiery cross" was circulated through the Highlands, and Sir Alick
+returned to his home to raise a troop of his own tenants and clansmen,
+at whose head he proposed to join the Earl of Mar.
+
+Maisie, ordinarily so gentle and retiring, was now roused to unwonted
+and passionate protest. The scheme for the threatened "rising" was not
+unknown in England; and Simon Glenlivet wrote to his quondam ward,
+urging her most strongly to dissuade her husband from joining a rash
+conspiracy which could only bring ruin upon all who were engaged in it.
+
+"'Tis hopeless--and I thank Heaven that it is so--to think of
+overturning the present condition of things," wrote the cautious London
+Scot; "and they who take part in this mad conspiracy--of which the
+English Government have fuller details than the conspirators wot
+of--will but lose their lands, and it may be their heads to boot. I pray
+thee, my pretty Molly, keep thy husband out of this snare."
+
+But this command was not so easily followed. Since his visit to Braemar,
+Alick himself had caught the war fever, and, for once, his wife's
+entreaties, nay, even her tears and prayers, were disregarded by her
+husband! Sir Alick was all love and tenderness, but join the glorious
+expedition he must and would, encouraged in this resolve by mother,
+sister, and kinsfolk; Maisie's being the only dissenting voice; and, as
+Lady Glenlivet tauntingly remarked to her daughter-in-law, "it was not
+for the child of a mere English pock-pudding to decide what was fitting
+conduct for a Highland noble--Maisie should remember she had wedded into
+an honourable house, and not strive to draw her husband aside from the
+path of duty."
+
+Unheeded by her husband, derided and taunted by his mother, Maisie could
+but weep in silent despair.
+
+And so the day of parting came, and Alick, looking splendidly handsome
+in his military attire, stood to take his last farewell of wife and
+kindred, and to drink a parting cup to the success of the expedition.
+
+"Fill me the quaick, Maisie," he said, with a kindly smile turning to
+his pale and heavy-eyed young wife. "Ye'll soon see me come back again
+to bid ye all put on your braws to grace the king's coronation at
+Edinburgh." To which hope Lady Glenlivet piously cried "Amen"; and
+Maisie turned to mix the stirrup cup, for the morning was raw and cold.
+
+"Let Isobel lift the kettle, lass; it's far too heavy for thee," cried
+Lady Glenlivet; but alas! too late, for Maisie stumbled as she turned
+from the fire, and the chief part of the scalding water was emptied into
+one of the young man's long riding boots.
+
+Alick's sudden yell of pain almost drowned Maisie's sobbing cry, and old
+Lady Glenlivet furiously exclaimed, forgetful of all courtesies,--
+
+"Ye wretched gawk! ye little fule! ye ha' killed my puir lad!"
+
+"Nay, nay, na sae bad as that, I judge. Dinna greet, Maisie, my bonnie
+bird--ye couldna help it, my dow," cried Alick, recovering himself, and
+making a heroic effort to conceal the pain he felt. "Look to her, some
+of ye," he added sharply, as Maisie sank fainting on the floor.
+
+It was a very severe scald, said the doctor whom the alarmed household
+quickly summoned, and it would be many a long day before Sir Alick would
+be fit to wear his boot or put foot in saddle again.
+
+But thanks greatly to the devoted nursing he received from wife and
+mother, and to his own youth and health, Sir Alick completely recovered
+from the injury. But in the meantime, the bubble had burst, Sherrifmuir
+had been fought, Mar's army had been totally routed, the prisons in
+England and Scotland had been filled with his misguided followers, and
+the headsman and the hangman were beginning their ghastly work.
+
+Sir Alick, thanks to the accident which had prevented his taking any
+overt part in the rebellion, had escaped both imprisonment and
+confiscation; and it was probably Simon Glenlivet's influence which had
+availed to cover over Sir Alick's dalliance with the Jacobite plotters.
+
+Maisie had proved herself a most tender and efficient nurse, but it was
+now her turn to be ill, and one quiet day, after she had presented her
+lord with an heir to the Glenlivet name, she told him the whole truth
+about that lucky accident with the boiling water; but auld Leddy
+Glenlivet never knew that her son had been saved from a rebel's fate by
+a wife's stratagem.
+
+
+
+
+THE KING'S TRAGEDY.
+
+_AN HISTORICAL TALE._
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+In the year 1436, a party of horsemen, weary and belated, were seen
+hurrying amid the deepening darkness of a December day towards the ferry
+of the Firth of Forth. Their high carriage, no less than the quality of
+their accoutrements, albeit dimmed and travel-stained by the splash of
+flood and field, showed them to be more than a mere party of traders
+seeking safety in numbers, and travelling in pursuit of gain. In the
+centre of the group rode a horseman, whose aspect and demeanour marked
+him as the chief, if not the leader, of the band; and by his side a
+lady, whose grace and beauty could not be altogether concealed by the
+closeness of her attire or the darkness of the night. These were the
+King and Queen of Scotland, James the First and his fair wife Joan,
+surrounded by a small band of faithful followers, bound for the
+monastery of the Black Friars of Perth to hold Christmas Carnival.
+
+The weather and the day were wild enough, and these but only too truly
+reflected the surging passions of human hearts. The brave young king's
+desire to put down the marauding practices of his Highland subjects, and
+bring about a condition of things under which a "key" should be
+sufficient keep for a "castle," and a "bracken bush" enough protection
+for a "cow," together with, perhaps, a not always wise way of working so
+good a cause, had provoked the hostility of some of the Highland chiefs
+who lived by stealing their neighbours' property. This disaffection
+became formidable under the leadership of Sir Richard Graeme, brother
+of the Earl of Stratherne, whose earldom had been confiscated by the
+king, who feared its power with perhaps less justice than became his
+high purpose, and James and his retainers had need to watch and ward
+against open enemies and secret foes.
+
+Silently, if not mournfully, the little band moved on, picking its way
+along the uneven shore, and peering anxiously through the deepening
+shadows for signs of the distant ferry. Like a cavalcade of ghosts, but
+dimly seen as dimly seeing, they pressed on, all eyes for what light
+might give them guidance, all ears for what sound might give them
+warning.
+
+As they were descending to the beach, at the point where the ferry
+crossed the water, sight and sound combined to startle if not to terrify
+them; for out from behind a pile of rocks there sprang a wild, weird
+woman, who with waving arms and frantic shouts motioned them to go back.
+In an instant the whole cavalcade was in confusion. The horses reared
+and plunged, the men shouted and demanded who was there, and all the
+while the weird figure, whose tattered garments fluttered fantastically
+in the wind, waved her skinny arms wildly, and shouted, "Go back!"
+
+Thinking that the woman might have some news of importance to the king,
+some of the retainers spurred forward and interrogated her; but she
+would say them nothing but "Go back"; adding at last "For the king
+alone--for the king alone!" Judging that she might desire to warn him of
+some treachery, even among his followers, the king rode forward and
+spoke to her, when, waving her hands towards the water, she screamed,
+"If once you cross that water, you will never return alive!" The king
+asked for news, but the old witch was not a chronicler but a prophetess,
+and catching at the king's rein she sought to turn him back.
+
+By this time the retinue had closed in upon the singular pair, and the
+queen's anxiety doubtless stimulated the king's action. Shaking from his
+rein the woman's hand, he cried, "Forward!" and in a few moments the
+party had left the stormy land for the scarce more stormy sea.
+
+After crossing the Firth of Forth the party made rapid progress, and in
+due course were safely and comfortably housed in the old monastery of
+the Dominicans of Perth. The gaieties of Court and Carnival soon
+obliterated, for a time at least, the memory of the discomforts of the
+journey; and the warning of the old witch, if remembered at all, was
+thought of with pity or dismissed with mirth. The festivities, which
+were maintained with vigour and brilliance for a considerable time,
+surrounded the king with both friends and foes. Sir Robert Stuart, who
+had been promised the kingdom by Sir Richard Graeme, was actually acting
+as chamberlain to the king he was plotting to dethrone; and the Earl of
+Athole and other conspirators were among the guests who, with loyal
+protestations, pledged the king's health and prosperity. Towards the
+close of the Carnival, when the month of February 1437 had almost waned
+to a close, while the rain beat upon the windows and the wind whistled
+wildly around the roof of the old monastery, in grim contrast with the
+scene of merriment that graced the halls within, the guests were
+startled by a loud knocking at the outer door. The king, gayest among
+the gay, was singing "The King's Quhair," a ballad of his own writing,
+when the usher interrupted him to announce the old witch of the Firth of
+Forth. She says "she must have speech with you," said the usher, and
+that her words "admit of no delay." But James was annoyed by the
+interruption, and, as it was midnight, ordered her to be sent away,
+promising to see her on the morrow. Driven forth at the king's command,
+the old beldame wrung her hands, and cried, "Woe! woe! To-morrow I shall
+not see his face!" and the usher, upon the king's interrogation,
+repeated her words to him and to the queen. Upon hearing them, both were
+filled with anxiety and fear, and thinking it best to close the
+festivities of the evening the king gave the signal for the finish of
+the feast, and the guests slowly separated and left the hall. The king's
+chamberlain was the last to leave, and his errand was one of treachery.
+
+During the day the conspirators had been busily preparing for their
+opportunity. The locks of the hall had been tampered with so that their
+keys were of no avail. The bars by which the gates were barricaded were
+removed from their accustomed place. Planks had been surreptitiously
+placed across the moat that the enemy might obtain easy access to the
+stronghold; and Sir Richard Graeme, with three hundred followers in his
+train, was waiting for the signal to advance.
+
+James and his wife stood hand in hand before the log fire of the great
+hall, while the bower-maidens of the queen prepared the royal bed in an
+alcove leading from the chamber. The old crone's warning had struck
+terror to the queen's heart, and unnerved the courage of the king. While
+looking anxiously at the burning logs in the fireplace, again they heard
+the voice of the witch, inarticulate in its frenzy, uttering a wild,
+wailing scream. In an instant the waiting-women had drawn back the
+curtains, and the red glow of a hundred torches flashed upon the walls
+of the Hall. The king looked round for a weapon, but there was none to
+be found; he shouted to the women to shut the bolts, but the bolts had
+been removed; he tried the windows, they were fast and barred; and then,
+hearing the approach of his enemies along the passage, he stood with
+folded arms in the centre of the Hall to wait for death.
+
+Beneath the Hall lay the unused and forgotten vaults of the monastery;
+and in the king's extremity it occurred to Catherine Douglas, one of the
+waiting-women, that these might give the king a chance of escape. There
+was not a moment to lose, so, seizing the heavy tongs from the
+fireplace, she forced them into the king's hand, and motioned him to
+remove the flooring and hide in the crypt below. Spurred to desperation
+the king seized the tongs, and proceeded to force up the flooring of the
+hall; but the sound of his approaching enemies came nearer and nearer,
+and the flooring was strong and tough. To give time the women made a
+desperate attempt to pull a heavy table in front of the door, but it was
+heavier than they could move. In another moment the floor had given way,
+and, with a hurried embrace, the king squeezed through the flooring and
+dropped into the vault. Then came the replacing of the boards--could
+they possibly do it in the time? A clash of arms in the passage showed
+that at least one sentinel was true; but the arm of one was but a poor
+barrier against so large a force. Another moment and the flooring would
+give no evidence of the secret that it held, for the queen and her
+bower-maidens were replacing it with all speed. Again the tread of the
+approaching conspirators; the sentinel has paid for his fidelity with
+death. Is there no arm can save?
+
+At this moment, as with a flash of inspiration, the thought came into
+her mind. Catherine Douglas, one of the bower-maidens, rushed forward
+and thrust her arm through the staple of the removed bolt, and for a
+little while a woman's arm held a hundred men at bay.
+
+It was a terrible moment, and as the poor bruised arm gave way at last
+Catherine Douglas fell fainting to the floor.
+
+Sir Richard Graeme and his followers, having forced an entrance, made
+hot and eager search, but without avail. One of them placed his dagger
+at the queen's breast and demanded to know where the king was, and would
+have killed her had not the young Graeme caught back his arm and said,
+"She is a woman; we seek the king." At last, tired by their fruitless
+search, they left the Hall, and then, unfortunately, the king requested
+the women to draw him up from the vault again. This they attempted to
+do, with ropes made from the sheets from the bed, but they were not
+strong enough, and one of them, a sister of Catherine Douglas, was
+pulled down into the vault below. Attracted by the noise of this
+attempt, the conspirators returned, and the traitor chamberlain revealed
+the secret of the hidden vaults. In a few moments all was over,--the
+flooring was torn up, and, more like wild beasts than men, one after
+another the king's enemies dropped into the vault, attacking him,
+unarmed as he was, and killing him with many wounds. How the queen
+ultimately revenged herself upon the king's assassins is matter of
+history; but the story is chiefly interesting for its record of the
+heroic devotion of Catherine Douglas, who was renamed Kate Barlas, from
+the circumstances of her chivalry, by which name her descendants are
+known to this day.
+
+
+
+
+THE STRANGER.
+
+_A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE._
+
+BY H. G. BELL.
+
+
+Hodnet is a village in Shropshire. Like all other villages in
+Shropshire, or anywhere else, it consists principally of one long
+street, with a good number of detached houses scattered here and there
+in its vicinity. The street is on a slight declivity, on the sunny side
+of what in England they call a hill. It contains the shops of three
+butchers, five grocers, two bakers, and one apothecary. On the right
+hand, as you go south, is that very excellent inn, the Blue Boar; and on
+the left, nearly opposite, is the public hall, in which all sorts of
+meetings are held, and which is alternately converted into a
+dancing-school, a theatre, a ball-room, an auction-room, an
+exhibition-room, or any other kind of room that may be wanted. The
+church is a little farther off, and the parsonage is, as usual, a white
+house surrounded with trees, at one end of the village. Hodnet is,
+moreover, the market-town of the shire, and stands in rather a populous
+district; so that, though of small dimensions itself, it is the
+rallying-place, on any extraordinary occasion, of a pretty numerous
+population.
+
+One evening in February, the mail from London stopped at the Blue Boar,
+and a gentleman wrapped in a travelling cloak came out. The guard handed
+him a small portmanteau, and the mail drove on. The stranger entered the
+inn, was shown into a parlour, and desired that the landlord and a
+bottle of wine should be sent to him. The order was speedily obeyed; the
+wine was set upon the table, and Gilbert Cherryripe himself was the
+person who set it there. Gilbert next proceeded to rouse the slumbering
+fire, remarking, with a sort of comfortable look and tone, that it was a
+cold, raw night. His guest assented with a nod. "You call this village
+Hodnet, do you not?" said he inquiringly. "Yes, sir, this is the town of
+Hodnet" (Mr. Cherryripe did not like the term village), "and a prettier
+little place is not to be found in England." "So I have heard; and as
+you are not upon any of the great roads, I believe you have the
+reputation of being a primitive and unsophisticated race." "Privitive
+and sofiscated, did you say, sir? Why, as to that I cannot exactly
+speak; but, if there is no harm in it, I daresay we are. But you see,
+sir, I am a vintner, and don't trouble my head much about these
+matters." "So much the better," said the stranger, smiling. "You and I
+shall become better friends; I may stay with you for some weeks, perhaps
+months. In the meantime, get me something comfortable for supper, and
+desire your wife to look after my bedroom."
+
+Next day was Sunday. The bells of the village church had just finished
+ringing when the stranger walked up the aisle and entered, as if at
+random, a pew which happened to be vacant. Instantly every eye was
+turned towards him, for a new face was too important an object in Hodnet
+to be left unnoticed. "Who is he?" "When did he come?" "With whom does
+he stay?" "How long will he be here?" "How old may he be?" "Do you think
+he is handsome?" These and a thousand other questions flew about in
+whispers from tongue to tongue, whilst the unconscious object of all
+this interest cast his eyes calmly, and yet penetratingly, over the
+congregation. Nor was it altogether to be wondered at that his
+appearance had caused a sensation among the good people of Hodnet, for
+he was not the kind of person whom one meets with every day. There was
+something both in his face and figure that distinguished him from the
+crowd. You could not look upon him once and then turn away with
+indifference. When the service was over our hero walked out alone, and
+shut himself up for the rest of the day in his parlour at the Blue
+Boar. But speculation was busily at work, and at more than one tea-table
+that evening in Hodnet conjectures were poured out with the tea and
+swallowed with the toast.
+
+A few days elapsed and the stranger was almost forgotten; for there was
+to be a subscription assembly in Hodnet, which engrossed entirely the
+minds of all. It was one of the most important events that had happened
+for at least a century. At length the great, the important night
+arrived. The three professional fiddlers of the village were elevated on
+a table at one end of the hall, and everybody pronounced it the very
+model of an orchestra. The candles were tastefully arranged and
+regularly snuffed. The floor was admirably chalked by a travelling
+sign-painter, engaged for the purpose; and the refreshments in an
+adjoining room, consisting of negus, apples, oranges, cold roast-beef,
+and biscuits, were under the immediate superintendence of our very
+excellent friend, Mr. Gilbert Cherryripe. At nine o'clock, which was
+considered a fashionable hour, the hall was nearly full, and the first
+country dance was commenced by the eldest son and presumptive heir of
+old Squire Thoroughbred, who conducted gracefully through its mazes the
+chosen divinity of his heart, Miss Wilhelmina Bouncer, only daughter of
+Tobias Bouncer, Esq., Justice of Peace in the county of Shropshire.
+
+Enjoyment was at its height, and the three professional fiddlers had put
+a spirit of life into all things, when suddenly one might perceive that
+the merriment was for a moment checked, whilst a more than usual bustle
+pervaded the room. The stranger had entered it; and there was something
+so different in his looks and manner from those of any of the other male
+creatures, that everybody surveyed him with renewed curiosity, which was
+at first slightly tinctured with awe. "Who can he be?" was the question
+that instantaneously started up like a crocus in many a throbbing bosom.
+"He knows nobody, and nobody knows him; surely he will never think of
+asking anybody to dance."
+
+For a long time the stranger stood aloof from the dancers in a corner by
+himself.
+
+At length, something like a change seemed to come over the spirit of his
+dreams. His eye fell on Emily Sommers, and appeared to rest where it
+fell with no small degree of pleasure. No wonder. Emily was not what is
+generally styled beautiful; but there was a sweetness, a modesty, a
+gentleness about her, that charmed the more the longer it was observed.
+She was the only child of a widowed mother. Her father had died many a
+year ago in battle; and the pension of an officer's widow was all the
+fortune he had left them. But nature had bestowed riches of a more
+valuable kind than those which fortune had denied. I wish I could
+describe Emily Sommers; but I shall not attempt it. She was one of those
+whose virtues are hid from the blaze of the world, only to be the more
+appreciated by those who can understand them.
+
+It was to Emily Sommers that the stranger first spoke. He walked right
+across the room and asked her to dance with him. Emily had never seen
+him before; but concluding that he had come there with some of her
+friends, and little acquainted with the rules of etiquette, she
+immediately, with a frank artlessness, smiled an acceptance of his
+request.
+
+It was the custom in Hodnet for the gentlemen to employ the morning of
+the succeeding day in paying their respects to the ladies with whom they
+had danced on the previous evening. Requesting permission to wait upon
+his partner and her mother next day, it was without much difficulty
+obtained. This was surely very imprudent in Mrs. Sommers, and everybody
+said it was very imprudent. "What! admit as a visitor in her family a
+person whom she had never seen in her life before, and who, for anything
+she knew, might be a swindler or a Jew! There was never anything so
+preposterous--a woman, too, of Mrs. Sommers's judgment and propriety! It
+was very--very strange." But whether it was very strange or not, the
+fact is that the stranger soon spent most of his time at Violet Cottage;
+and what is perhaps no less wonderful, notwithstanding his apparent
+intimacy, he remained nearly as much a stranger to its inmates as ever.
+His name, they had ascertained, was Burleigh--Frederick Burleigh; that
+he was probably upwards of eight-and-twenty, and that, if he had ever
+belonged to any profession, it must have been that of arms. But farther
+they knew not. Mrs. Sommers, however, who to a well-cultivated mind
+added a considerable experience of the world, did not take long to
+discover that their new friend was, in every sense of the word, a man
+whose habits and manners entitled him to the name and rank of a
+gentleman; and she thought, too, that she saw in him, after a short
+intercourse, many of those nobler qualities which raise the individual
+to a high and well-merited rank among his species. As for Emily, she
+loved his society she scarcely knew why; yet, when she endeavoured to
+discover the cause, she found it no difficult matter to convince herself
+that there was something about him so infinitely superior to all the men
+she had ever seen that she was only obeying the dictates of reason in
+admiring and esteeming him.
+
+Her admiration and esteem continued to increase in proportion as she
+became better acquainted with him, and the sentiments seemed to be
+mutual. He now spent his time almost continually in her society, and it
+never hung heavy on their hands. The stranger was fond of music, and
+Emily, besides being mistress of her instrument, possessed naturally a
+fine voice. Neither did she sing and play unrewarded; Burleigh taught
+her the most enchanting of all modern languages--the language of
+Petrarch and Tasso; and being well versed in the use of the pencil,
+showed her how to give to her landscapes a richer finish and a bolder
+effect. Then they read together; and as they looked with a smile into
+each other's countenances, the fascinating pages of fiction seemed to
+acquire a tenfold interest. These were evenings of calm but deep
+happiness--long, long to be remembered.
+
+Spring flew rapidly on. March, with her winds and her clouds, passed
+away; April, with her showers and her sunshine, lingered no longer; and
+May came smiling up the blue sky, scattering her roses over the green
+surface of creation. The stranger entered one evening, before sunset,
+the little garden that surrounded Violet Cottage. Emily saw him from
+the window and came out to meet him. She held in her hand an open
+letter. "It is from my cousin Henry," said she. "His regiment has
+returned from France, and he is to be with us to-morrow or next day. We
+shall be so glad to see him! You have often heard us talk of Henry?--he
+and I were playmates when we were children; and though it is a long time
+since we parted, I am sure I should know him again among a hundred."
+"Indeed!" said the stranger, almost starting; "you must have loved him
+very much, and very constantly too." "Oh, yes! I loved him as a brother.
+I am sure you will love him too," Emily added. "Everybody whom you love,
+and who loves you, I also must love, Miss Sommers. But your cousin I
+shall not at present see. I must leave Hodnet to-morrow." "To-morrow!
+Leave Hodnet to-morrow!" Emily grew very pale, and leaned for support
+upon a sun-dial, near which they were standing. "Can it be possible,
+Miss Sommers--Emily--that it is for me you are thus grieved?" "It is so
+sudden," said Emily, "so unexpected; are you never to return again--are
+we never to see you more?" "Do you wish me to return, do you wish to see
+me again, Emily?" he asked. "Oh! how can you ask it?" "Emily, I have
+been known to you under a cloud of mystery, a solitary being, without a
+friend or acquaintance in the world, an outcast apparently from
+society--either sinned against or sinning--without fortune, without
+pretensions; and with all these disadvantages to contend with, how can I
+suppose that I am indebted to anything but your pity for the kindness
+which you have shown to me?" "Pity! pity you! Oh, do not wrong yourself
+thus. No! though you were a thousand times less worthy than I know you
+are, I should not pity, I should----" She stopped confused, a deep blush
+spread over her face, she burst into tears, and would have sunk to the
+ground had not her lover caught her in his arms. "Think of me thus," he
+whispered, "till we meet again, and we may both be happy." "Oh! I will
+think of you thus for ever!" They had reached the door of the cottage.
+"God bless you, Emily," said the stranger; "I dare not see Mrs.
+Sommers; tell her of my departure, but tell her that ere autumn has
+faded into winter I shall again be here. Farewell, dearest, farewell."
+She felt upon her cheek a hot and hurried kiss; and when she ventured to
+look round he was gone.
+
+Henry arrived next day, but there was a gloom upon the spirits of both
+mother and daughter, which it took some time to dispel. Mrs. Sommers
+felt for Emily more than for herself. She now perceived that her child's
+future happiness depended more upon the honour of the stranger than she
+had hitherto been aware, and she trembled to think of the probability
+that in the busy world he might soon forget the very existence of such a
+place as Hodnet, or any of its inhabitants. Emily entertained better
+hopes, but they were the result of the sanguine and unsuspicious
+temperament of youth. Her cousin, meanwhile, exerted himself to the
+utmost to render himself agreeable. He was a young, frank, handsome
+soldier, who had leapt into the very middle of many a lady's heart--red
+coat, sword, epaulette-belt, cocked hat, feathers, and all. But he was
+not destined to leap into Emily's. She had enclosed it within too strong
+a line of circumvallation. After a three months' siege, it was
+impregnable. So Henry, who really loved his cousin, thinking it folly to
+endanger his peace and waste his time any longer, called for his horse
+one morning, shook Emily warmly by the hand, mounted, "and rode away."
+
+Autumn came; the leaves grew red, brown, yellow, and purple; then
+dropped from the high branches, and lay rustling in heaps upon the path
+below. The last roses withered. The last lingering wain conveyed from
+the fields their golden treasure. The days were bright, clear, calm, and
+chill; the nights were full of stars and dew, and the dew, ere morning,
+was changed into silver hoar-frost. The robin hopped across the garden
+walks, and candles were set upon the table before the tea-urn. But the
+stranger came not. Darker days and longer nights succeeded. Winter burst
+upon the earth. But still the stranger came not. Then the lustre of
+Emily's eye grew dim; but yet she smiled, and looked as if she would
+have made herself believe that there was hope.
+
+And so there was; for the mail once more stopped at the Blue Boar; a
+gentleman wrapped in a travelling cloak once more came out of it; and
+Mr. Gilbert Cherryripe once more poked the fire for him in his best
+parlour. Burleigh had returned.
+
+I shall not describe their meeting nor inquire whether Emily's eye was
+long without its lustre. But there was still another trial to be made.
+Would she marry him? "My family," said he, "is respectable, and as it is
+not wealth we seek, I have an independence, at least equal, I should
+hope, to our wishes; but anything else which you may think mysterious
+about me I cannot unravel until you are indissolubly mine." It was a
+point of no slight difficulty; Emily entrusted its decision entirely to
+her mother. Her mother saw that the stranger was inflexible in his
+purpose, and she saw also that her child's happiness was inextricably
+linked with him. What could she do? It had been better perhaps they had
+never known him; but knowing him, and thinking of him as they did, there
+was but one alternative--the risk must be run.
+
+It was run. They were married in Hodnet; and immediately after the
+ceremony they stepped into a carriage and drove away, nobody knew
+whither. It is enough for us to mention that towards twilight they came
+in sight of a magnificent Gothic mansion, situated in the midst of
+extensive and noble parks. Emily expressed her admiration of its
+appearance; and her young husband, gazing on her with impassioned
+delight, exclaimed, "Emily, it is yours! My mind was imbued with
+erroneous impressions of women; I had been courted and deceived by them.
+I believed that their affections were to be won only by flattering their
+vanity or dazzling their ambition. I was resolved that unless I were
+loved for myself I would never be loved at all. I travelled through the
+country _incognito_; I came to Hodnet and saw you. I have tried you in
+every way, and found you true. It was I, and not my fortune, that you
+married; but both are yours. This is Burleigh House; your husband is
+Frederick Augustus Burleigh, Earl of Exeter, and you, my Emily, are his
+countess!"
+
+
+
+
+LOVE WILL FIND A WAY.
+
+_THE STORY OF WINNIFRED COUNTESS OF NITHSDALE._
+
+
+Among the noblemen who, with many misgivings as to the wisdom of the
+attempt, yet felt it their duty to take part in the rising on behalf of
+the young Pretender, which took place in the year 1745, Lord Nithsdale
+was unhappily numbered.
+
+It is unnecessary to detail here the progress of this ill-advised
+enterprise, which ended in general defeat and the capture of those
+principally concerned. Lord Derwentwater, Lord Nithsdale, and other
+noblemen, were immediately brought to trial, and condemned, without hope
+of mercy, to suffer the death of traitors.
+
+Lady Nithsdale, when the first terrible news of her husband's
+apprehension reached her, was at Terreagles, their seat, near Traquhair
+in Peebleshire, and hearing that he much desired the consolation of
+seeing her, she resolved at once to set out for London. It was winter,
+and at that period the roads during this season were often almost
+impassable. She succeeded, however, through great difficulties, in
+reaching Newcastle, and from thence went to York by the stage; but there
+the increased severity of the weather and the depth of the snow would
+not admit of the stage proceeding farther--even the mail could not be
+forwarded. But Lady Nithsdale was on an errand from which no risks might
+deter her. She therefore pursued her way, though the snow was generally
+above the horse's girths, and, in the end, reached London in safety,
+and, supported both in health and spirits by firm resolution, she
+sustained no ill consequences from her perilous journey.
+
+Arrived there, however, she learnt, to her dismay, that she was not to
+be allowed to see her husband, unless she would consent to be imprisoned
+with him in the Tower--a plan she could not consent to, as it would
+prevent her acting on his behalf by soliciting the assistance and
+intercession of friends, and, above all, incapacitate her from carrying
+out the plan of escape she had already formed, should the worst she
+apprehended come true. In spite of the refusal of the Government,
+however, by bribing the guard she obtained frequent interviews with her
+husband up to the day on which the prisoners were condemned; after
+which, for the last week, their families were allowed free admittance to
+take a last leave of them.
+
+From the first moment of her arrival in London she laboured in her
+husband's cause, making application to all persons in authority,
+wherever there was the most distant chance of assistance; but from those
+in power she only received assurances that her cause was hopeless, and
+that for certain reasons her husband was especially reserved for
+vengeance.
+
+Lord Nithsdale, for her sake more than his own, was anxious that a
+petition should be presented to the king in his behalf; trusting, by
+this means, to excite for her his sympathy and indulgence. It was well
+known that the king was especially incensed against Lord Nithsdale, so
+that he is said to have forbidden that any petition should be presented
+for him, or personal address made to him; but the countess, in obedience
+to her lord's wish, resolved to make the attempt, and accordingly
+repaired to court. In the narrative she wrote to her sister of her
+husband's escape, she has given the following account of the
+interview--very little creditable to the feelings of George I., either
+as a king or a gentleman:--
+
+"So the first day that I heard the king was to go to the drawing-room, I
+dressed myself in black, as if I had been in mourning, and sent for Mrs.
+Morgan (the same who accompanied me to the Tower); because, as I did
+not know his Majesty personally, I might have mistaken some other person
+for him. She stayed by me, and told me when he was coming. I had another
+lady with me (Lady Nairn), and we remained in a room between the king's
+apartments and the drawing-room, so that he was obliged to go through
+it; and as there were three windows in it, we sat in the middle one,
+that I might have time enough to meet him before he could pass. I threw
+myself at his feet, and told him, in French, that I was the unfortunate
+Countess of Nithsdale, that he might not pretend to be ignorant of my
+person. But, perceiving that he wanted to go off without receiving my
+petition, I caught hold of the skirt of his coat, that he might stop and
+hear me. He endeavoured to escape out of my hands; but I kept such
+strong hold, that he dragged me on my knees from the middle of the room
+to the very door of the drawing-room. At last one of the blue ribbons
+who attended his Majesty took me round the waist, while another wrested
+the coat out of my hands. The petition, which I had endeavoured to
+thrust into his pocket, fell down in the scuffle, and I almost fainted
+away through grief and disappointment. One of the gentlemen in waiting
+picked up the petition; and as I knew that it ought to have been given
+to the lord of the bedchamber, who was then in waiting, I wrote to him,
+and entreated him to do me the favour to read the petition which I had
+had the honour to present to his Majesty. Fortunately for me it happened
+to be my Lord Dorset, with whom Mrs. Morgan was very intimate.
+Accordingly she went into the drawing-room and delivered him the letter,
+which he received very graciously. He could not read it then, as he was
+at cards with the Prince; but as soon as ever the game was over he read
+it, and behaved (as I afterwards learned) with the warmest zeal for my
+interest, and was seconded by the Duke of Montrose, who had seen me in
+the ante-chamber and wanted to speak to me. But I made him a sign not to
+come near me, lest his acquaintance might thwart my designs. They read
+over the petition several times, but without any success; but it became
+the topic of their conversation the rest of the evening, and the
+harshness with which I had been treated soon spread abroad--not much to
+the honour of the king."
+
+This painful scene happened on Monday, February 13th, and seems to have
+produced no result, unless it may be supposed to have hastened the fate
+of the prisoners; for, on the following Friday, it was decided in
+council that the sentence against them should be carried into effect.
+
+In the meanwhile Lady Derwentwater and other ladies of high rank were
+strenuous in their efforts to avert the execution of the sentence. They
+succeeded in obtaining an interview with the king, though without any
+favourable issue. They also attended at both Houses of Parliament to
+present petitions to the members as they went in. These exertions had a
+decided influence on the feelings of both Houses. In the Commons a
+motion to petition the king in favour of the delinquents was lost by
+only seven votes, and among the Lords a still stronger personal feeling
+and interest was excited; but all proved unavailing, and Lady Nithsdale,
+after joining with the other ladies in this ineffectual attendance, at
+length found that all her hope and dependence must rest on her
+long-formed scheme of bringing about her husband's escape. She had less
+than twenty-four hours for arranging it in all its details, and for
+persuading the accomplices who would be necessary to her to enter into
+so hazardous a project. In these she seems to have been peculiarly
+fortunate; but the history of this remarkable escape can only be given
+in her own words, taken from the interesting and spirited narrative she
+wrote of it:--
+
+"As the motion had passed generally (that the petitions should be read
+in the Lords, which had only been carried after a warm debate) I thought
+I would draw some advantage in favour of my design. Accordingly I
+immediately left the House of Lords and hastened to the Tower; where,
+affecting an air of joy and satisfaction, I told all the guards I passed
+that I came to bring joyful tidings to the prisoner. I desired them to
+lay aside their fears, for the petition had passed the House in their
+favour. I then gave them some money to drink to the lords and his
+Majesty, though it was but trifling; for I thought that if I were too
+liberal on the occasion they might suspect my designs, and that giving
+them something would gain their good humour and services for the next
+day, which was the eve of the execution. The next morning I could not go
+to the Tower, having so many things on my hands to put in readiness; but
+in the evening, when all was ready, I sent for Mrs. Mills, with whom I
+lodged, and acquainted her with my design of attempting my lord's
+escape, as there was no prospect of his being pardoned, and this was the
+last night before the execution. I told her that I had everything in
+readiness, and that I trusted she would not refuse to accompany me, that
+my lord might pass for her. I pressed her to come immediately, as we had
+no time to lose. At the same time I sent for Mrs. Morgan, then usually
+known by the name of Hilton, to whose acquaintance my dear Evans (her
+maid) had introduced me--which I looked upon as a very singular
+happiness. I immediately communicated my resolution to her. She was of a
+very tall and slender make; so I begged her to put under her own
+riding-hood one that I had prepared for Mrs. Mills, as she was to lend
+hers to my lord, that in coming out he might be taken for her. Mrs.
+Mills was not only of the same height, but nearly the same size as my
+lord. When we were in the coach I never ceased talking, that they might
+have no leisure to reflect. Their surprise and astonishment when I first
+opened my design to them had made them consent, without ever thinking of
+the consequences.
+
+"On our arrival at the Tower, the first I introduced was Mrs. Morgan;
+for I was only allowed to take in one at a time. She brought in the
+clothes that were to serve Mrs. Mills when she left her own behind her.
+When Mrs. Morgan had taken off what she had brought for my purpose, I
+conducted her back to the staircase; and, in going, I begged her to send
+me in my maid to dress me; that I was afraid of being too late to
+present my last petition that night if she did not come immediately. I
+despatched her safe, and went partly downstairs to meet Mrs. Mills, who
+had the precaution to hold her handkerchief to her face--as was very
+natural for a woman to do when she was going to bid her last farewell to
+a friend on the eve of his execution. I had, indeed, desired her to do
+it, that my lord might go out in the same manner. Her eyebrows were
+rather inclined to be sandy, and my lord's were dark and very thick;
+however, I had prepared some paint of the colour of hers to disguise his
+with. I also bought an artificial head-dress of the same coloured hair
+as hers; and I painted his face with white and his cheeks with rouge, to
+hide his long beard, which he had not had time to shave. All this
+provision I had before left in the Tower.
+
+"The poor guards, whom my liberality the day before had endeared me to,
+let me go quietly with my company, and were not so strictly on the watch
+as they usually had been; and the more so as they were persuaded from
+what I had told them the day before that the prisoners would obtain
+their pardon. I made Mrs. Mills take off her own hood and put on that
+which I had brought her. I then took her by the hand and led her out of
+my lord's chamber; and in passing through the next room, in which there
+were several people, with all the concern imaginable I said, 'My dear
+Mrs. Catherine, go in all haste and send me my waiting-maid; she
+certainly cannot reflect how late it is; she forgets that I am to
+present a petition to-night, and if I let slip this opportunity I am
+undone; for to-morrow will be too late. Hasten her as much as possible;
+for I shall be on thorns till she comes.' Everybody in the room, who
+were chiefly the guards' wives and daughters, seemed to compassionate me
+exceedingly; and the sentinel officiously opened the door.
+
+"When I had seen her out I returned back to my lord and finished
+dressing him. I had taken care that Mrs. Mills did not go out crying, as
+she came in, that my lord might the better pass for the lady who came in
+crying and afflicted; and the more so because he had the same dress she
+wore. When I had almost finished dressing my lord in all my petticoats
+excepting one, I perceived that it was growing dark, and was afraid that
+the light of the candles might betray us, so I resolved to set off. I
+went out, leading him by the hand; and he held his handkerchief to his
+eyes. I spoke to him in the most piteous and afflicted tone of voice,
+bewailing bitterly the negligence of Evans, who had ruined me by her
+delay. Then said I, 'My dear Mrs. Betty, for the love of God run quickly
+and bring her with you. You know my lodging, and, if ever you made
+despatch in your life, do it at present. I am distracted with this
+disappointment.' The guards opened the doors, and I went downstairs with
+him, still conjuring to make all possible despatch. As soon as he had
+cleared the door, I made him walk before me, for fear the sentinel
+should take notice of his walk; but I still continued to press him to
+make all the despatch he possibly could. At the bottom of the stairs I
+met my dear Evans, into whose hands I confided him.[3]
+
+[Footnote 3: Thus one more person left Lord Nithsdale's prison
+than had entered it. Three had gone in, and four came out. But
+so long as women only passed, and these two at a time, the
+guards probably were not particularly watchful. This inevitable
+difficulty in the plan of the escape makes Lady Nithsdale's
+admirable self-possession of manner in conducting it the more
+conspicuous. Any failure on her part would have awakened the
+suspicions of the bystanders.]
+
+"I had before engaged Mr. Mills to be in readiness before the Tower to
+conduct him to some place of safety, in case he succeeded. He looked
+upon the affair as so very improbable to succeed, that his astonishment,
+when he saw us, threw him into such consternation that he was almost out
+of himself; which Evans perceiving, with the greatest presence of mind,
+without telling him (Lord Nithsdale) anything, lest he should mistrust
+them, conducted him to some of her own friends on whom she could rely,
+and so secured him; without which we should have been undone. When she
+had conducted him, and left him with them, she returned to find Mr.
+Mills, who by this time had recovered himself from his astonishment.
+They went home together, and having found a place of security, they
+conducted him to it.
+
+"In the meanwhile, as I had pretended to have sent the young lady on a
+message, I was obliged to return upstairs and go back to my lord's room
+in the same feigned anxiety of being too late; so that everybody seemed
+sincerely to sympathise with my distress. When I was in the room, I
+talked to him as if he had been really present; and answered my own
+questions in my lord's voice as nearly as I could imitate it. I walked
+up and down as if we were conversing together, till I thought they had
+time enough thoroughly to clear themselves of the guards. I then thought
+proper to make off also. I opened the door, and stood half in it, that
+those in the outward chamber might hear what I said; but held it so
+close that they could not look in. I bid my lord a formal farewell for
+that night; and added, that something more than usual must have happened
+to make Evans negligent on this important occasion, who had always been
+so punctual in the smallest trifle; that I saw no other remedy than to
+go in person; that if the Tower were still open when I finished my
+business I would return that night; but that he might be assured that I
+would be with him as early in the morning as I could gain admittance to
+the Tower; and I flattered myself I should bring favourable news. Then,
+before I shut the door, I pulled the string through the latch, so that
+it could only be opened on the inside. I then shut it with some degree
+of force, that I might be sure of its being well shut. I said to the
+servant as I passed by, who was ignorant of the whole transaction, that
+he need not carry candles in to his master till my lord sent for him, as
+he desired to finish some prayers first. I went downstairs and called a
+coach, as there were several on the stand. I drove home to my lodgings,
+where poor Mr. Mackenzie had been waiting to carry the petition, in case
+my attempt failed. I told him there was no need of any petition, as my
+lord was safe out of the Tower and out of the hands of his enemies, but
+that I did not know where he was.
+
+"I then desired one of the servants to call a chair, and I went to the
+Duchess of Montrose, who had always borne a part in my distresses. She
+came to me; and as my heart was in an ecstasy of joy, I expressed it in
+my countenance as she entered the room. I ran up to her in the transport
+of my joy. She appeared to be exceedingly shocked and frighted, and has
+since confessed to me that she apprehended my trouble had thrown me out
+of myself till I communicated my happiness to her. She then advised me
+to retire to some place of security, for that the king was highly
+displeased, and even enraged, at the petition I had presented to him,
+and had complained of it severely, and then said she would go to court
+and see how the news of my lord's escape was received. When the news was
+brought to the king, he flew into an excess of passion, and said he was
+betrayed; for it could not have been done without some confederacy. He
+instantly despatched two persons to the Tower to see that the other
+prisoners were secure, lest they should follow the example. Some threw
+the blame upon one, some upon another. The duchess was the only one at
+court who knew it.
+
+"When I left the duchess, I went to a house which Evans had found out
+for me, and where she promised to acquaint me where my lord was. She got
+thither some few minutes after me, and took me to the house of a poor
+woman, directly opposite to the guard-house, where my lord was. She had
+but one small room, up one pair of stairs, and a very small bed in it.
+We threw ourselves upon the bed, that we might not be heard walking up
+and down. She left us a bottle of wine and some bread, and Mrs. Mills
+brought us some more in her pocket next day. We subsisted on this
+provision from Thursday till Saturday night, when Mrs. Mills came and
+conducted my lord to the Venetian ambassador's. We did not communicate
+the affair to his excellency; but one of his servants concealed him in
+his own room till Wednesday, on which day the ambassador's coach-and-six
+was to go down to Dover to meet his brother. My lord put on a livery,
+and went down in the retinue, without the least suspicion, to Dover,
+where M. Michel (the ambassador's servant) hired a small vessel and
+immediately set sail for Calais. The passage was so remarkably short
+that the captain threw out this reflection, that the wind could not
+have served better if his passengers had been flying for their lives,
+little thinking it to be really the case.
+
+"For my part," continues Lady Nithsdale, "I absconded to the house of a
+very honest man in Drury Lane, where I remained till I was assured of my
+lord's safe arrival on the Continent. I then wrote to the Duchess of
+Buccleugh and entreated her to procure leave for me to go with safety
+about my business. So far from granting my request, they were resolved
+to secure me, if possible. After several debates it was decided that if
+I remained concealed no further search should be made, but that if I
+appeared either in England or Scotland I should be secured."
+
+On first hearing of her husband's apprehension, she had thought it
+prudent to conceal many important family papers and other valuables, and
+having no person at hand with whom they could be safely entrusted, had
+hid them underground, in a place known only to the gardener, in whom she
+could entirely confide. This had proved a happy precaution, for, after
+her departure, the house had been searched, and, as she expressed it,
+"God only knows what might have transpired from those papers." In
+addition to the danger of their being discovered, there was the imminent
+risk of their being destroyed by damp, so that no time must be lost in
+regaining them before too late. She therefore determined on another
+journey to the north, and, for greater secrecy, on horseback, though
+this mode of travelling, which was new to her, was extremely fatiguing.
+She, however, with her maid, Mrs. Evans, and a servant that could be
+depended on, set out from London, and reached Traquhair in safety and
+without any one being aware of her intentions. Here she ventured to rest
+two days, in the society of her sister-in-law and Lord Traquhair,
+feeling security in the conviction that, as the lord-lieutenant of the
+county was an old friend of her husband's, he would not allow any search
+to be made after her without first giving her warning to abscond. From
+thence she proceeded to Terreagles, whither it was supposed she came
+with the permission of Government; and to keep up that opinion, she
+invited her neighbours to visit her. That same night she dug up the
+papers from their hiding-place, where happily they had sustained no
+injury, and sent them at once, by safe hands, to Traquhair. This was
+accomplished just in time, for the magistrates of Dumfries began to
+entertain suspicions of her right to be there, and desired to see her
+leave from Government. On hearing this, "I expressed," she says, "my
+surprise that they had been so backward in paying their respects; 'but,'
+said I, 'better late than never: be sure to tell them that they shall be
+welcome whenever they choose to come.' This was after dinner; but I lost
+no time to put everything in readiness, but with all possible secrecy;
+and the next morning, before daybreak, I set off again for London, with
+the same attendants, and, as before, I put up at the smallest inns, and
+arrived safe once more."
+
+George I. could not forgive Lady Nithsdale for the heroic part she had
+acted: he refused, in her case, the allowance or dower which was granted
+to the wives of the other lords. "A lady informed me," she says, "that
+the king was extremely incensed at the news; that he had issued orders
+to have me arrested, adding that I did whatever I pleased, despite of
+all his designs, and that I had given him more trouble than any woman in
+all Europe. For which reason I kept myself as closely concealed as
+possible, till the heat of these rumours had abated. In the meanwhile, I
+took the opinion of a very famous lawyer, who was a man of the strictest
+probity: he advised me to go off as soon as they had ceased searching
+for me. I followed his advice, and, in about a fortnight after, I
+escaped without any accident whatever."
+
+She met her husband and children at Paris, whither they had come from
+Bruges to meet her. They soon afterwards joined the Pretender's court at
+Avignon; but, finding the mode of life there little to their taste,
+shortly after returned to Italy, where they lived in great privacy.
+
+Lord Nithsdale lived, after his escape, nearly thirty years, and died at
+Rome in 1744. His wife survived him five years: she had the comfort of
+having provided a competency for her son by her hazardous journey to
+Terreagles, though his title and principal estates had been confiscated
+by his father's attainder. He married Lady Catherine Stewart, daughter
+of the Earl and Countess of Traquhair. Her daughter, the Lady Anne
+Maxwell, became the wife of Lord Bellew.
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the
+original print edition have been corrected. No other alterations have
+been made to the original text.
+
+In "Margot: The Martyr", "the burning larva" has been changed to "the
+burning lava".
+
+In "Nadine: The Princess", a colon was added following "The silence was
+broken by Maura, saying"; a quotation mark was added following "the
+subject is never mentioned to her"; and a quotation mark has been
+deleted preceding "O---- was a fearful place".
+
+In "My Year at School", a quotation mark was added before "The history
+prize has been awarded".
+
+In "The Silver Star", "her exhibiton work" has been changed to "her
+exhibition work".
+
+In "Uncle Tone", a comma has been added after "he shut himself off from
+all society"; and "discourtsey" has been changed to "discourtesy".
+
+In "The Missing Letter", a quotation mark was added after "he shall have
+it now."
+
+In "The Magic Carpet", a quotation mark has been added before "The
+book?" and before "The Magic Cabinet!"; and "half-cirle" has been
+changed to "half-circle".
+
+In "Only Tim", "A little latter" has been changed to "A little later";
+and "pepples" has been changed to "pebbles".
+
+In "The Colonel's Boy", "mischevously" has been changed to
+"mischievously".
+
+In "The Trevern Treasure", "no opportunity for Sybil Trevern ro return"
+has been changed to "no opportunity for Sybil Trevern to return";
+"frequently rasults in misadventure" has been changed to "frequently
+results in misadventure"; and "the disaster of Sherifmuir" has been
+changed to "the disaster of Sherrifmuir".
+
+In "Dora", "Miss Dora "ll be marryin'" has been changed to "Miss Dora
+'ll be marryin'"; and "'e ses. solemn" has been changed to "'e ses
+solemn".
+
+In "Little Peace", "Beneath this ortrait" has been changed to "Beneath
+this portrait"; "Blessed are the pacemakers" has been changed to
+"Blessed are the peacemakers"; and a quotation mark has been added
+before "Because old Gaffer Cressidge".
+
+In "The Story of Wassili and Daria", "dressed in their most brillant
+manner" has been changed to "dressed in their most brilliant manner".
+
+In "The Pedlar's Pack", a quotation mark has been removed in front of
+"If I didn't think".
+
+In "The Unbidden Guest", quotation marks have been added in front of
+"Dad believes what he's agoing to tell you" and in front of "I was
+a-looking at mother"; "'Nothin', says I" has been changed to "'Nothin','
+says I"; and "'Nothin,' says she" has been changed to "'Nothin',' says
+she".
+
+In "A Strange Visitor", a quotation mark has been added in front of "I
+must apologise for intruding upon you".
+
+In "Billjim", "as similiar as possible" has been changed to "as similar
+as possible"; and "See bathed his temples" has been changed to "She
+bathed his temples".
+
+In "The Tiny Folk of Langaffer", a quotation mark has been added in
+front of "'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' That means something."
+
+In "The Kingfisher", "their voices lease my ears" has been changed to
+"their voices please my ears".
+
+In "Caspar the Cobbler", "masonary and stone-carving" has been changed
+to "masonry and stone-carving"; "his workship in the old garret" has
+been changed to "his workshop in the old garret"; and a quotation mark
+has been added after "exhibits his good breeding."
+
+In "The Story of Grizel Cochrane", "In futherance of this plan" has been
+changed to "In furtherance of this plan".
+
+In "The Stranger", a quotation mark has been added before "Can it be
+possible".]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifty-Two Stories For Girls, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY-TWO STORIES FOR GIRLS ***
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifty-Two Stories For Girls, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Fifty-Two Stories For Girls
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Alfred H. Miles
+
+Release Date: July 2, 2008 [EBook #25948]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY-TWO STORIES FOR GIRLS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 332px;">
+<img src="images/tragedy.png" width="332" height="500" alt="THE KING&#39;S TRAGEDY." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE KING&#39;S TRAGEDY. [See p. 434.</p>
+
+
+<h1><i><span style="font-size: 75%;">FIFTY-TWO</span><br />
+<span style="font-size: 90%;">STORIES FOR</span><br />
+GIRLS</i></h1>
+
+<h2><span style="font-size: 75%; font-style: italic;">Edited by</span><br />
+ALFRED H. MILES</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 170px;">
+<img src="images/logo.png" width="170" height="200" alt="publisher's logo" title="Inter Folia Fructus" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">NEW YORK AND LONDON<br />
+D. APPLETON &amp; CO.<br />
+1912</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Published September, 1905</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">Printed in the United States of America</p>
+
+<hr class="chapter_rule" />
+
+<h2><a name="TABLE_OF_AUTHORS" id="TABLE_OF_AUTHORS"></a>TABLE OF AUTHORS.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="Table of Authors">
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN</td>
+<td class="author_3">MAUD HEIGHINGTON</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">SARAH DOUDNEY</td>
+<td class="author_3">DOROTHY PINHO</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">ARMAND CAUMONT</td>
+<td class="author_3">GORDON STABLES, M.D., R.N.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">ALICE F. JACKSON</td>
+<td class="author_3">ROBERT OVERTON</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">NELLIE HOLDERNESS</td>
+<td class="author_3">CLUCAS JOUGHIN</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">MARGARET WATSON</td>
+<td class="author_3">ALBERT E. HOOPER</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">JENNIE CHAPPELL</td>
+<td class="author_3">CHARLES E. PEARCE</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">MARION DICKEN</td>
+<td class="author_3">S. LE SOTGILLE</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">LUCY HARDY</td>
+<td class="author_3">H. G. BELL</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">MARIE DELBRASSINE</td>
+<td class="author_3">THOMAS ARCHER</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">HELEN BOURCHIER</td>
+<td class="author_3">ALFRED G. SAYERS</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">NORA RYEMAN</td>
+<td class="author_3">ROBERT GUILLEMARD</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">KATE GODKIN</td>
+<td class="author_3">F. B. FORESTER</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="author_3">LUCIE E. JACKSON</td>
+<td class="author_3">ALFRED H. MILES</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center">AND OTHER WRITERS.</p>
+
+<hr class="chapter_rule" />
+
+<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="Table of Contents">
+<tr>
+<th class="subject" colspan="3" style="padding-bottom: 1em;">SCHOOL AND HOME.</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<th style="text-align: left; font-size: 80%;">SUBJECT</th>
+<th style="text-align: left; font-size: 80%;">AUTHOR</th>
+<th style="text-align: right; font-size: 80%;">PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">GLORIA DENE'S SCHOOLFELLOWS:</td>
+<td class="author">Nora Ryeman</td>
+<td class="pagenumber">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">I. NARDA: THE NIGHTINGALE</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#GLORIA_DENE_I">11</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">II. ESTELLA: THE HEIRESS</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#GLORIA_DENE_II">16</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">III. MAURA: THE MUNIFICENT</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#GLORIA_DENE_III">22</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">IV. MARGOT: THE MARTYR</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#GLORIA_DENE_IV">29</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">V. IRENE: THE SNOW FLOWER</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#GLORIA_DENE_V">35</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">VI. NADINE: THE PRINCESS</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#GLORIA_DENE_VI">39</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">MY YEAR AT SCHOOL</td>
+<td class="author">Margaret Watson</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#MY_YEAR_AT_SCHOOL">48</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE SILVER STAR</td>
+<td class="author">Nellie Holderness</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_SILVER_STAR">57</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">UNCLE TONE</td>
+<td class="author">Kate Godkin</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#UNCLE_TONE">67</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A NIGHT ON THE ROAD</td>
+<td class="author">Margaret Watson</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_NIGHT_ON_THE_ROAD">77</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE MISSING LETTER</td>
+<td class="author">Jennie Chappell</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_MISSING_LETTER">83</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">"THE COLONEL"</td>
+<td class="author">Marion Dicken</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_COLONEL">93</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">NETTIE</td>
+<td class="author">Alfred G. Sayers</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#NETTIE">97</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE MAGIC CABINET</td>
+<td class="author">Albert E. Hooper</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_MAGIC_CABINET">103</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<th class="subject" colspan="3">GIRLHOOD AND YOUTH.</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">ONLY TIM</td>
+<td class="author">Sarah Doudney</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#ONLY_TIM">121</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">SMITH'S SISTER</td>
+<td class="author">Robert Overton</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#SMITHS_SISTER">139</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE COLONEL'S BOY</td>
+<td class="author">H. Hervey</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_COLONELS_BOY">148</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">'TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH</td>
+<td class="author">Clucas Joughin</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#TWIXT_LIFE_AND_DEATH">155</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">ROSE'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT</td>
+<td class="author">Marie E. C. Delbrassine</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#ROSES_BIRTHDAY_PRESENT">164</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">DOLLY HARDCASTLE'S ROSEBUDS</td>
+<td class="author">Charles E. Pearce</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#DOLLY_HARDCASTLES_ROSEBUDS">171</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A TALE OF SIMLA</td>
+<td class="author">Dr. Helen Bourchier</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_TALE_OF_SIMLA">177</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE TREVERN TREASURE</td>
+<td class="author">Lucy Hardy</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_TREVERN_TREASURE">189</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A MEMORABLE DAY</td>
+<td class="author">Sarah Doudney</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_MEMORABLE_DAY">196</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">DORA</td>
+<td class="author">Alfred H. Miles</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#DORA">202</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">LITTLE PEACE</td>
+<td class="author">Nora Ryeman</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#LITTLE_PEACE">211</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE STORY OF WASSILI AND DARIA</td>
+<td class="author">Robert Guillemard</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_WASSILI_AND_DARIA">215</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<th class="subject" colspan="3">PLUCK, PERIL, AND ADVENTURE.</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">MARJORIE MAY</td>
+<td class="author">Evelyn Everett-Green</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#MARJORIE_MAY_A_WILFUL_YOUNG_WOMAN">225</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">FOURTH COUSINS</td>
+<td class="author">Gordon Stables, M.D., R.N.</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#FOURTH_COUSINS">238</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE PEDLAR'S PACK</td>
+<td class="author">Lucie E. Jackson</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_PEDLARS_PACK">245</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE UNBIDDEN GUEST</td>
+<td class="author">F. B. Forester</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_UNBIDDEN_GUEST">264</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE WRECK OF THE MAY QUEEN</td>
+<td class="author">Alice F. Jackson</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_WRECK_OF_THE_MAY_QUEEN">275</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC">285</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A STRANGE VISITOR</td>
+<td class="author">Maud Heighington</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_STRANGE_VISITOR">295</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE THIRD PERSON SINGULAR</td>
+<td class="author">Lucy Hardy</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_THIRD_PERSON_SINGULAR">301</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">"HOW JACK MINDED THE BABY"</td>
+<td class="author">Dorothy Pinho</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#HOW_JACK_MINDED_THE_BABY">307</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">MY GRANDMOTHER'S ADVENTURE</td>
+<td class="author">Alfred H. Miles</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#MY_GRANDMOTHERS_ADVENTURE">310</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A TERRIBLE CHRISTMAS EVE</td>
+<td class="author">Lucie E. Jackson</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_TERRIBLE_CHRISTMAS_EVE">315</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A NIGHT OF HORROR</td>
+<td class="author">Alfred H. Miles</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_NIGHT_OF_HORROR">326</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">AUNT GRIEVES' SILVER</td>
+<td class="author">Lucie E. Jackson</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#AUNT_GRIEVES_SILVER">329</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">BILLJIM</td>
+<td class="author">S. Le Sotgille</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#BILLJIM">341</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<th class="subject" colspan="3">IN THE WORLD OF FAERY.</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE LEGENDS OF LANGAFFER</td>
+<td class="author">Armand Caumont</td>
+<td class="pagenumber">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">I. THE TINY FOLK OF LANGAFFER</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_I">353</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">II. THE KINGFISHER</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_II">364</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">III. CASPAR THE COBBLER</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_III">380</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">IV. DAME DOROTHY'S DOG</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_IV">391</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story_2">V. THE LITTLE LOCKSMITH</td>
+<td class="author_2">"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_V">397</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<th class="subject" colspan="3">ROMANCE IN HISTORY.</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">HOW CICELY DANCED BEFORE THE KING</td>
+<td class="author">Thomas Archer</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#HOW_CICELY_DANCED_BEFORE_THE_KING">403</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A MOTHER OF QUEENS</td>
+<td class="author">From "Old Romance"</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_MOTHER_OF_QUEENS">410</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE STORY OF GRIZEL COCHRANE</td>
+<td class="author">W. R. C.</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_GRIZEL_COCHRANE">418</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">A WIFE'S STRATAGEM</td>
+<td class="author">Lucy Hardy</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#A_WIFES_STRATAGEM">427</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE KING'S TRAGEDY</td>
+<td class="author">Alfred H. Miles</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_KINGS_TRAGEDY">434</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">THE STRANGER</td>
+<td class="author">H. G. Bell</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#THE_STRANGER">439</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="story">LOVE WILL FIND A WAY</td>
+<td class="author">Lady Nithsdale's Records</td>
+<td class="pagenumber"><a href="#LOVE_WILL_FIND_A_WAY">447</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chapter_rule" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="genre"><a name="SCHOOL_AND_HOME" id="SCHOOL_AND_HOME"></a>SCHOOL AND HOME.</h2>
+
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="GLORIA_DENE" id="GLORIA_DENE"></a>GLORIA DENE'S SCHOOLFELLOWS.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY NORA RYEMAN.</h3>
+
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_I" id="GLORIA_DENE_I"></a>I.&mdash;NARDA: THE NIGHTINGALE.</h3>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_I_I" id="GLORIA_DENE_I_I"></a>I.</h4>
+
+<p>"Here you are, miss," said the red-faced cabby, putting his head in at
+the cab window, "this is Miss Melford's school."</p>
+
+<p>It was a large, many windowed, white house on Hertford Green, in sight
+of the famous spires of Silverbridge, and was for some six months to be
+both home and school to me, Gloria Dene.</p>
+
+<p>I was late in my arrival, and I was tired, for I had come all the way
+from Erlingham in the heart of Norfolk, and moreover, I was hungry, and
+just a little homesick, and already wanted to return to the old
+homestead and to Uncle Gervase and Aunt Ducie, who had taken the place
+of my parents.</p>
+
+<p>The cabman gave a loud rat-a-tat with the lion-headed knocker, and in
+due course a rosy-faced servant maid opened the door and ushered me in.</p>
+
+<p>Then she preceded me through a broad flagged hall, lit by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> crimson
+lamps. And as I went I heard a sweet and thrilling voice singing,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Home, home, sweet, sweet home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be it ever so humble there's no place like home."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The words naturally appealed to me, and I exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"How lovely! Who is singing?" only to be told that it was Mamselle
+Narda, the music mistress.</p>
+
+<p>I thought of the nightingale which sang in our rose bush on summer
+nights at home, and found myself wondering what Mamselle was like.</p>
+
+<p>The next day I saw her&mdash;Bernarda Torres; she was a brown beauty, with
+dark rippling hair, soft dark eyes, and a richly soft complexion, which
+put one in mind of a ripe peach on a southern wall.</p>
+
+<p>She was of Spanish extraction, her father (a fruit merchant) hailing
+from Granada, her mother from Seville. Narda's path had been strewn with
+roses, until a bank failure interrupted a life of happiness, and then
+sorrows had come in battalions. Mamselle had really turned her silver
+notes into silver coins for the sake of "Home, Sweet Home."</p>
+
+<p>This love of home it was which united Narda and myself. She told me all
+about the house at home, about her brother, Carlos, and his pictures,
+and <i>maman</i>, who made point lace, and Olla Podrida, and little Nita, who
+was <i>douce et belle</i>. And I, in my turn, told her of the thatched
+homestead near the Broads, of the bay and mulberry trees, of Aunt
+Ducie's sweet kind face, and Uncle Gervase's early silvered hair.</p>
+
+<p>And she called me "little sister," and promised to spend her next
+vacation where the heron fishes and the robin pipes in fair and fresh
+East Anglia.</p>
+
+<p>But one May morning, when the lilacs in our playground were full of
+sweet-scented, purple plumes, a bolt fell from the blue. A letter came
+to Narda telling her of her mother's failing health, her father's
+apathy, her brother's despair.</p>
+
+<p>"It is enough," said Mamselle, "I see my duty! An impresario once told
+me that my destiny was to sing in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> public. I will do it for 'Home, Sweet
+Home,' I will be La Narda the singer, instead of Miss Melford's
+Mamselle. God who helps the blind bird build its nest will help me to
+save mine."</p>
+
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_I_II" id="GLORIA_DENE_I_II"></a>II.</h4>
+
+<p>There had been the first fall of the snow, and "ye Antiente Citie"
+looked like some town in dreamland, or in fairyland, as Miss Melford's
+boarders (myself amongst the number) went through its streets and wynds
+to the ballad concert (in aid of Crumblebolme's Charity), at which
+Mamselle, then La Narda, the <i>cantatrice</i>, was announced to sing. We
+were naturally much excited; it seemed, as Ivy Davis remarked, almost as
+though we were all going to sing in public.</p>
+
+<p>We had front seats, quite near the tapestried platform from whence we
+took note of the audience.</p>
+
+<p>"Look, look!" whispered Milly Reed eagerly. "The Countess of Jesmond,
+and the house-party at Coss have come to hear <i>our</i> Mamselle. That dark,
+handsome man next the countess is Count Mirloff, the Russian poet. Just
+think I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>What more Milly would have said I really cannot say, for just then there
+was a soft clapping of hands, and La Narda came down the crimson steps
+of the Justice Room, and advanced to the footlights.</p>
+
+<p>"She's like a fairy queen! She's just too lovely!" said the
+irrepressible Ivy. And though Miss Melford shook her head, I am sure she
+also was of the same opinion, and was proud of my dear brown
+nightingale.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>petite</i> figure was robed in white silk, trimmed with frosted leaves
+and pink roses, and wore a garland of the same on her dark bright head.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Tell me, thou bonnie bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When shall I marry me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When three braw gentlemen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Churchward shall carry ye,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>sang the sweet full voice, and we listened entranced. The next song was
+"Robin Adair."</p>
+
+<p>Then came an encore, and as Narda acknowledged it, an accident occurred
+which (as the newspapers say) might have had a fatal termination.</p>
+
+<p>A flounce of the singer's dress touched the footlights, and the flame
+began to creep upwards like a snake of fire.</p>
+
+<p>Narda glanced downward, drew back, and was about to try to crush it out
+with her hands, when in less time than it takes to tell it, the Russian
+gentleman sprang forward, wrapped his fur-lined coat about her, and
+extinguished the flame.</p>
+
+<p>The poet had saved the nightingale, and Miss Melford's romantic girls
+unanimously resolved "that he ought to marry her."</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_I_III" id="GLORIA_DENE_I_III"></a>III.</h4>
+
+<p>And he did shortly after. Our some time music-teacher who was good
+enough for any position became a <i>grande dame</i> with a mansion in St.
+Petersburg, and a country house in Livania. She went to balls at the
+Winter Palace, and was present at all the court ceremonies.</p>
+
+<p>Yet was she still our Narda, she sent us girls presents of Viennese
+bonbons and French fruit, bought brother Carlo's paintings, sent
+<i>petite</i> Nita as a boarder to Miss Melford's, and studied under a great
+<i>maestro</i>.</p>
+
+<p>When a wee birdie came into the Russian nest she named it Endora Gloria,
+and her happiness and my pride were complete.</p>
+
+<p>Then came a great&mdash;a terrible blow. The count, whose opinions were
+liberal, was accused of being implicated in a revolutionary rising. He
+was cast into prison, and sent to the silver mines to work in the long
+underground passages for twenty years.</p>
+
+<p>Ivy Davis, who was very romantic, was grievously disappointed because
+the countess returned to her profession instead of sharing her husband's
+exile. But there came a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> day and an hour when she honoured as well as
+loved the <i>cantatrice</i>; for she with Heaven's help freed the count, and
+obtained his pardon from the Czar&mdash;she herself shall tell you how she
+gained it.</p>
+
+<p>Read the letter she sent to me:&mdash;</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>"Gloria, Alexis is free; he is nursing Endora as I write.</p>
+
+<p>"When the officers took him from me I felt half mad, and knew not where
+to go.</p>
+
+<p>"One morning as I knelt by my little one's white bed an inspiration
+came; over the mantel was a picture of 'The Good Shepherd,' and I
+clasped my hands, and cried aloud:</p>
+
+<p>"'O bon Pasteur, help me to free Thy sheep.'</p>
+
+<p>"And lo, a voice seemed to answer: 'Daughter, use the talent that you
+have.'</p>
+
+<p>"I rose from my knees knowing what course to pursue. I sought new
+opportunities for the display of my one talent, I was more than
+successful, I became Narda the prima donna, and won golden guineas and
+opinions.</p>
+
+<p>"At last came my opportunity. I was to sing at Bayreuth in Wagner's
+glorious opera, I was to sing the Swan Song, and the Czar was to be
+present.</p>
+
+<p>"The house was crowded, there was row upon row, tier after tier of
+faces, but I saw one only&mdash;that of the Czar in his box.</p>
+
+<p>"I stood there before the footlights in shining white, and sang my song.</p>
+
+<p>"The heavenly music rose and fell, died away and rose again, and I sang
+as I had never done before. I sang for home, love, and child.</p>
+
+<p>"When the curtain fell the Czar sent for me and complimented me
+graciously, offering me a diamond ring which I gratefully refused.</p>
+
+<p>"'Sire,' I said, 'I ask for a gift more costly still.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Is it,' he asked, 'a necklace?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No, sire, it is my husband's pardon. Give my little daughter her
+father back.'</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>"He frowned, hesitated, then said that he would inquire into the matter.</p>
+
+<p>"Gloria, he did, God be praised! The evidence was sifted, much of it was
+found to be false. The pardon was made out. Your nightingale had sung
+with her breast against a thorn, 'her song had been a prayer which
+Heaven itself had heard.'"</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_II" id="GLORIA_DENE_II"></a>II&mdash;ESTELLA: THE HEIRESS.</h3>
+
+<p>Her Christian name Estella Marie, her starry eyes and pale, earnest
+face, and her tall, lissom figure were the only beautiful things about
+Estella Keed. Everything else, dress, home, appointments, were exceeding
+plain. For her grandfather in whose house she lived was, though
+reputedly wealthy, a miserly man.</p>
+
+<p>He lived in a large and antique house, with hooded windows, in Mercer's
+Lane, and was a dealer in antiques and curios. And his popular sobriquet
+was Simon the Saver (Anglic&egrave;, miser).</p>
+
+<p>Stella was the only child of his only son, a clever musician, who had
+allied himself with a troupe of wandering minstrels, and married a
+Spaniard attached to the company, and who, when he followed his wife
+into the silent land, bequeathed his little girl to his father,
+beseeching him to overlook the estrangement of years, and befriend the
+orphan child. She inherited her name Estella from her Spanish mother,
+but they called her Molly in her new home&mdash;it was part of her
+discipline.</p>
+
+<p>Simon Keed had accepted, and fulfilled the trust in his own peculiar
+way. That is to say, he had sheltered, fed, and clothed Estella, and
+after some years' primary instruction in a elementary school, had sent
+her to Miss Melford's to complete her studies.</p>
+
+<p>Farther than this he had not gone, for she was totally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> without a proper
+outfit. In summer her patched and faded print frocks presented a
+pathetic contrast to the pink and blue cambrics, and floral muslins, of
+the other girls; and in winter, when velvets and furs were in evidence,
+the contrast made by her coarse plain serge, and untrimmed cape of Irish
+frieze, was quite as strong; indeed, her plainness was more than
+Quakerish, it was Spartan, she was totally destitute of the knicknacks
+so dear to the girlish heart, and though she had grown used to looking
+at grapes like Reynard in the fable, I am sure she often felt the sting
+of her grandfather's needless, almost cruel, economy. This was evidenced
+by what was ever after spoken of by us girls as the garden-party
+episode.</p>
+
+<p>Near the old city was a quaint and pretty village, one famed in local
+history as having in "teacup," Georgian, times been honoured by a visit
+by Mrs. Hannah More, who described it as Arcadian.</p>
+
+<p>It had a fine, well-timbered park, full of green hollows in which grew
+the "'rath primrose," and which harboured a large, Jacobean mansion,
+occupied, at the period of this story, by Dr. Tempest as a Boys'
+Preparatory School, and as Mrs. Tempest was an old friend of Miss
+Melford's, the senior pupils (both boarders and day scholars) were
+always invited to their annual garden- or breaking-up party, which was
+held in the lovely park.</p>
+
+<p>Stella, as one of the senior girls, was duly invited; but no one deemed
+that she would accept the invitation, because her grandfather had been
+heard to say that education was one thing, and frivolity another.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose <i>you</i> won't go to the party," said impulsive Ivy Davis, and
+Estella had answered with a darkened face:</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot say. When I'm not here I have to stay in that gloomy old
+house, like a mouse in its hole. But if I can go anyhow, Ivy, I shall,
+you may depend upon <i>that</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Then we heard no more about the matter until the eventful day, when, to
+our surprise, Estella presented herself with the other day scholars, in
+readiness to go.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>"Look, Gloria, look," said Ivy, in a loud whisper, as we filed through
+the hall, "Stella's actually managed to come, and to make herself
+presentable. <i>However</i> did she do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush," I whispered back, but, all the same, I also marvelled at the
+girl's appearance.</p>
+
+<p>Her heliotrope and white muslin skirt was somewhat faded, it was true,
+but still, it was good material, and was pretty. The same could be said
+of her cream blouse. The marvel and the mystery lay in hat, necklet, and
+shoes.</p>
+
+<p>The hat was of burnt straw, broad brimmed, low crowned, and of the
+previous summer's fashion. It was simply trimmed with a garland or band
+of dull black silk, and large choux of the same, all of which might have
+been fresher; but in front was an antique brooch, or buckle, of pale
+pink coral and gold, which was at once beautiful and curiously
+inconsistent with the rest of the costume. Round Estella's throat was a
+lovely gold and coral necklace, and her small, worn shoes boasted coral
+and gold buckles. She had got a coral set from somewhere, where and how
+we all wondered.</p>
+
+<p>Even Miss Melford was astonished and impressed by Estella's unwonted
+splendour, for touching the necklet, I overheard her say:</p>
+
+<p>"Very pretty, my dear! Your grandfather, I presume, gave you the set?
+Very kind of him!"</p>
+
+<p>Stella, with a flushed face, replied:</p>
+
+<p>"He did not give it, ma'am," and the matter dropped.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Melford and I presumed that Mr. Keed had simply lent his
+grand-daughter the articles&mdash;which likely enough belonged to his stock
+of antiquities&mdash;for the day.</p>
+
+<p>It was a delightful f&ecirc;te&mdash;one of those bright and happy days which are
+shining milestones along the road of life. The peacocks strutted about
+on the terrace and made us laugh when they spread out their tails. We
+ate strawberries and cream under the elms, played all kinds of outdoor
+games on the greensward, and when we were tired rested in the cool,
+pot-pourri scented parlours.</p>
+
+<p>I am of opinion that Estella enjoyed herself as much as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> any of us,
+though she became strangely quiet and downcast on our way home. But, as
+Ivy truly remarked, it was not to be wondered at; the fairy palace was
+left behind, and the r&ocirc;le of Cinderella awaited her on the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the day succeeding the party, we broke up. I went home to spend the
+vacation with my uncle and aunt, and when I returned to school I found
+as usual, on reassembling, that there were a few vacant places, amongst
+them that of Estella Keed. I wondered how this was, though I did not
+presume to question Miss Melford on the subject; but one autumn morning,
+when passing through Mercer's Lane, I came across Estella. She looked
+shabby and disconsolate, in her faded gown and worn headgear, and I
+asked her if she had been unwell.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh dear no," was the response, "only very dull. I never go anywhere, or
+see any one&mdash;how can I help being so? I am only Molly now. No one calls
+me by my beautiful mother's name, Estella. I want to learn to be a
+typewriter, or something, and go and live in a big city, but grandpa
+says I must wait, and then he'll see about it! I detest this horrid
+lane!" she added passionately.</p>
+
+<p>I looked down the long, medi&aelig;val street, with its gabled houses, and
+then at the old church tower (round which the birds were circling in the
+distance), and replied with truth that it was picturesque, and carried
+one back into the storied past.</p>
+
+<p>"I am tired of the past&mdash;it's all past at ours&mdash;the jewels have been
+worn by dead women, the old china, and bric-&agrave;-brac, has stood in empty
+houses! It's all of the dead and gone. So is the house, all the rooms
+are old. I should like to live in a new house."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you want a change?" I said. "Why don't you come back to
+school?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head, and glanced away from me&mdash;up at the old Gothic
+church tower, and then said hurriedly:</p>
+
+<p>"I must hurry on now, Gloria&mdash;I am wanted&mdash;at home."</p>
+
+<p>One December evening not long after, during Miss Melford's hour with us,
+at recreation, she said:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>"Young ladies, you will be pleased to hear that your old schoolmate,
+Estella Keed, returns to us to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>On the morrow Estella came, but how different was she from the old and
+the former Estella!</p>
+
+<p>She wore a suitable and becoming costume of royal blue, and was a
+beautiful and pleasant looking girl! Her own natural graces had their
+own proper setting. It seemed indeed as if all things had become new to
+her, as if she lived and breathed in a fresher and fairer world than of
+yore!</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps because I had been sympathetic in the hour of trouble, she
+attached herself to me, and one day, during recess, she told me why she
+had been temporarily withdrawn from school.</p>
+
+<p>"Gloria," she said, "grandfather never gave me his permission to go to
+the garden-party&mdash;indeed, I never asked for it, for I was quite sure
+that he would not give it.</p>
+
+<p>"But I meant to go all the same, and persuaded Mrs. Mansfield, the
+housekeeper, to help me. She it was who altered and did up an old gown
+of mother's for me to wear. But without the coral set I should not have
+been able to go; for, as you know, I had no adornments. I'd often seen
+them when on sale and wished for them; but I knew that they would
+neither be given nor lent for the party.</p>
+
+<p>"Then Fate, as it seemed, befriended me; my grandfather had to go to
+London about some curios on the date fixed for the party, and I
+determined to borrow the set and make myself look presentable. All I had
+to do was to go to the window and take them out of their satin-lined
+case.</p>
+
+<p>"I hoped to replace them before my grandfather returned from town, but
+when I got home from the f&ecirc;te I found that he had returned by an earlier
+and quicker train than he himself had expected to. He looked at me from
+head to foot, then touched the necklace and the clasp, and demanded of
+me sternly where I had been.</p>
+
+<p>"I was tongue-tied for a few moments, and then I blurted out the truth:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>"'Grandfather,' I said, 'I've been to Dr. Tempest's garden-party as one
+of Miss Melford's senior girls, and as I didn't want to be different
+from the other girls I borrowed the coral set for the day. They are not
+hurt in the least.'</p>
+
+<p>"The room seemed going round with me as I spoke, even the dutch cheese
+on the supper table seemed to be bobbing up and down.</p>
+
+<p>"At last my grandfather spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"'Take the set off and give them to me,' he said shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"I yielded up the treasures with trembling hands, and when I had done so
+he told me I should not return to school, and then added:</p>
+
+<p>"'Go to your room and don't let me hear of this affair again. I fear you
+are as fond of finery as your mother was.'</p>
+
+<p>"You know the rest. I did not return to Miss Melford's, and I should not
+have been here now but for Dr. Saunders. Soon after the garden-party my
+grandfather was taken ill, and the doctor had to be called in. I think
+he must have taken pity on me, and must have spoken to my grandfather
+about me. Anyhow, my grandfather called me to his bedside one day, and
+told me that he knew that he could not live many years longer, and that
+all he wanted was to leave me able&mdash;after he was gone&mdash;to live a good
+and useful life without want, and that if he had been too saving in the
+past, it was all that my future should be provided for. There was a
+strange tenderness in his voice. Strange at least it seemed to me, for I
+had never heard it there before, and I put my face down upon the pillow
+beside him and cried. He took my hand in his, and the silence was more
+full of hope and promise than any words of either could have been. I
+waited upon him after that, and he seemed to like to have me about him,
+and when he got better he told me that he wished me to return to school
+and to make the best use of my opportunities while I had them. He told
+me that he had decided to make me an allowance for dress, and that he
+hoped that I should so use it as to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> give him proof before he died that
+I could be trusted to deal wisely with all that he might have to leave."</p>
+
+<p>Estella remained at school until I left, and the last time I saw her
+there she was wearing the red coral set which had estranged her from her
+grandfather as a token of reconciliation; and she told me that the old
+man's hands trembled in giving them to her, even more than hers did in
+giving them up, as he said to her with tears in his eyes and voice:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"All that I have is thine."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_III" id="GLORIA_DENE_III"></a>III.&mdash;MAURA: THE MUNIFICENT.</h3>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_III_I" id="GLORIA_DENE_III_I"></a>I.<br />
+<span class="smcap">Waste Not, Want Not.</span></h4>
+
+<p>Maura was the most popular girl in the school. She would have been
+envied if she had not been so much loved. The reason was that she was
+amiable as well as pretty, she had plenty of pocket-money, and was
+generous to a fault. If a girl had lost, or mislaid, her gloves, Maura
+would instantly say, "Oh, don't make a fuss, go to my glove-box and take
+a pair." Or if a pupil's stock of pin-money ran out before the end of
+the quarter, she would slip a few shillings into her hand, merrily
+whispering:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For every evil under the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's either a remedy, or there's none;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>I've</i> found one."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Maura was heiress of Whichello-Towers, in the north, with the broad
+lands appertaining. She was an orphan, her nearest relative being her
+uncle, a banker, who was her guardian, and somewhat anxious about his
+charge. So anxious indeed that he sometimes curtailed her allowance, in
+order to teach her prudence.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>"Maura, my dear, waste is wicked even in the wealthy; you need wisdom as
+well as wealth," said Miss Melford to her one day. And indeed she did,
+for sometimes the articles she bought for others were singularly
+extravagant and inappropriate.</p>
+
+<p>When Selina, the rosy-cheeked cook, was married from the school, the
+teachers and pupils naturally gave her wedding presents. My gift took
+the form of a teapot, Margot's of a dozen of fine linen handkerchiefs,
+and the others (with the exception of Maura) of things useful to a
+country gardener's wife.</p>
+
+<p>Maura bought a dress of heliotrope silk, elaborately trimmed with white
+lace, and as the bride truly observed, "Fit for a princess."</p>
+
+<p>But the heiress of Whichello had a lodging in all our hearts, and when
+I, one midwinter morning, saw her distraught with a troubled look in her
+soft brown eyes, I was grieved, and begged her to confide in me.</p>
+
+<p>"If I do, you cannot help me, Gloria," said Maura. "The fact is, I'm
+short of money."</p>
+
+<p>"Not an unusual state of affairs," rose to my lips, but the words
+changed as I uttered them.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Maura! Surely <i>you</i> have a little left?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only these," and she drew out two shillings.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you must draw on my little bank, until your uncle sends your next
+remittance," was my reply.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't any use. Gloria, you are nice, and sweet, but <i>your</i> money
+would only be a drop in the ocean! I'm not to have any money all next
+quarter. This letter came this morning. Read it."</p>
+
+<p>I did. It was a letter from Maura's guardian, who informed her that he
+desired to give her an object lesson in thrift, and, therefore, would
+hold her next remittance&mdash;which had already been anticipated&mdash;over. He
+also intimated that any applications to him would be useless.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, things might be worse," was my comment, as I returned the letter.
+"You must let <i>me</i> be your banker<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> and must economise, and be prudent
+till the next cheque arrives."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I will&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But what, Maura?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm in debt&mdash;dreadfully in debt. See."</p>
+
+<p>With this she drew some papers from her pocket, and handed them to me.</p>
+
+<p>One by one I looked them over. The first was a coal dealer's bill for a
+fairly large load of coal.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>That</i>," said Maura, "was for old Mrs. Grant, in Black-Cross Buildings.
+She was <i>so</i> cold, it made me quite creepy to look at her."</p>
+
+<p>I opened another. This was from a firm of motor-car and cycle dealers,
+and was the balance due upon a lady's cycle. I was perplexed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you said you never intended to cycle," I said, with amazement,
+"and <i>now</i> you have bought this Peerless bicycle!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but it was not for myself," she said, "I gave it to Meg Morrison
+to ride to and from her work in the City! Trams and 'buses don't run to
+Kersley, and it was a terrible walk for the poor girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Could not Meg have bought one on the instalment system for herself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Gloria, how mean you are! She has seven brothers and sisters, and
+four of them are growing boys, with appetites! The butcher and baker
+claim just all she earns."</p>
+
+<p>I opened the third yellow envelope, and was surprised to see a bill
+with: To Joseph Greenaway, Furniture Dealer, one child's mahogany cot &pound;1
+10<i>s</i>, upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"Maura," I cried, "this is the climax. Why ever did you buy a baby's
+cot&mdash;and how came Mr. Greenaway to trust you? You are only a minor&mdash;an
+infant in law!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do stop," said Maura; "you're like Hermione or Rosalind,
+or&mdash;somebody&mdash;who put on a barrister's gown in the play&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Portia, I suppose you mean?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>"Yes, Portia. Mr. Greenaway let me have the cot because I once bought a
+little blue chair from him, for Selina's baby, for which I paid <i>cash
+down</i>."</p>
+
+<p>It is impossible to describe the triumphant manner in which she uttered
+"cash down," it was as if she had said, <i>I</i> paid the national debt.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," she proceeded, "I'll tell you why I bought it&mdash;I was one day
+passing a weaver's house in Revel Lane, when I saw a young woman crying
+bitterly but silently at the bottom of one of the long entries or
+passages. 'I fear you are in trouble' I said. 'Is any one ill?'</p>
+
+<p>"She shook her head. She couldn't speak for a moment, then whispered:</p>
+
+<p>"'Daisie's cot has followed the loom!'</p>
+
+<p>"I asked her what following the loom meant.</p>
+
+<p>"'O young lady,' she replied, 'the weaver's trade has been mortle bad
+lately, and last week I sold Daisie's cot for the rent&mdash;and when the
+broker took it up I thought my heart would break; but hearts don't
+break, missie, they just go on achin'.'</p>
+
+<p>"Daisie was her only child, and the cot was a carved one, an heirloom in
+which several generations of the family had slept!</p>
+
+<p>"I had only a florin in my purse, but I gave her that, took her name and
+address and walked on.</p>
+
+<p>"But the woman haunted me. All the rest of the day I seemed to see her
+weeping in the long, grey street, and to hear <i>her</i> sobbing above the
+sound of the music in the music-room, and when I woke up in the middle
+of the night, I thought I would go to Mr. Greenaway the next day, and
+ask him to let me have a cot, and I'd pay him out of my next quarter's
+pocket-money. The very next day he sent the crib&mdash;'From an unknown
+friend.' That's all, Gloria! Now, what shall I do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Go and tell Miss Melford all about it," said I. "Come, <i>now</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Maura shrank from the ordeal, but in the end I persuaded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> her to
+accompany me to the cedar parlour, where the Lady Principal was writing.</p>
+
+<p>A wood fire burned cheerily on the white marble hearth, and the winter
+sunlight fell brightly on the flower-stand full of flowers&mdash;amidst which
+the piping bullfinch, Puffball, hopped about.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Melford, with her satin-brown hair, and golden-brown silk dress,
+was a pleasant figure to look upon as she put down her pen, and said
+sweetly:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, girls, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Maura drew back and was silent, but I was spokeswoman for her; and when
+I concluded my story there was silence for a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>Then Miss Melford rose, and putting an arm round Maura's shoulders,
+gravely, but at the same time tenderly, in her own sweet way, pointed
+out the moral of the situation, and then added:</p>
+
+<p>"You shall accompany me to see the people who have generously (if
+unwisely) allowed you to have the goods, and I will explain matters, and
+request them to wait."</p>
+
+<p>Maura was a quiet, subdued girl for a time after this, but a few days
+later she knocked timidly at Miss Melford's door. Miss Melford was
+alone, and bade her enter. Once in the room Maura hesitated, and then
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"Please, Miss Melford, may I ask a favour?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, my dear! What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"If I can find any right and honourable way of earning the money to pay
+the bills with, may I do so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Assuredly," said Miss Melford, "if you will submit your plan to my
+approval; but, Maura, I am afraid you will find it is harder to earn
+money than you think."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, I know money is hard to get, and very, very easy to spend. What
+a queer world it is!" was Maura's comment, as she left the room.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_III_II" id="GLORIA_DENE_III_II"></a>II.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Bal Masqu&eacute;.</span></h4>
+
+<p>There was to be a Children's Fancy Dress Ball&mdash;a Bal Masqu&eacute;, to which
+all Miss Melford's senior pupils were going, and little else was talked
+of weeks before the great event was due!</p>
+
+<p>Margot was to go as Evangeline, and I was to be Priscilla the Puritan
+Maiden, but none of us knew in what character Maura Merle was to appear.
+It was kept secret.</p>
+
+<p>Knowing the state of her finances, both Miss Melford and the girls
+offered to provide her costume, but she gratefully and firmly rejected
+both proposals, saying that she had made arrangements for a dress, and
+that it would be a surprise.</p>
+
+<p>And indeed it was, for when we all assembled in the white drawing-room,
+in readiness for our escort to the Town Hall, Maura was what newspapers
+style "the cynosure of all eyes."</p>
+
+<p>She wore a frock of pale blue silk! and all over it in golden letters
+were the words: "Sweets from Fairyland."</p>
+
+<p>Her waving golden hair was adorned by a small, white satin, Trigon hat,
+ornamented with a blue band, on which were the words: "Fairy Queen."</p>
+
+<p>From her waist depended an elaborate bonbonni&egrave;re, her sash was dotted
+all over with imitation confections of various kinds, her blue satin
+shoes had rosettes of tiny bonbons, and her domino suggested chocolate
+cream.</p>
+
+<p>There were of course loud exclamations of&mdash;"What does this mean, Maura?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you are Fairy Queen, like the Fairyland Confectioner's Company's
+advertisements!" but all Maura said was:</p>
+
+<p>"Girls, Miss Melford knows all about it, and approves."</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture, Miss Melford's voice was heard saying: "Follow me, my
+dears," and we all filed out of the room, and down the stairs to the
+carriages in waiting. The Town Hall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> was beautifully decorated, and the
+costumes were delightful. There were cavaliers, sweeps, princesses, and
+beggar-maids, but no one attracted more notice than Fairy Queen, who
+instead of dancing glided about amongst the company, offering fondants
+and caramels from her big bonbonni&egrave;re.</p>
+
+<p>The young guests laughed as they ate the sweetmeats, and rallied her
+upon the character she had chosen.</p>
+
+<p>"Why have you left Fairyland?" asked a musketeer, and Fairy Queen
+replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Because I want you all to have fairy fare."</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you dance, Fairy Queen?" asked Bonnie Prince Charlie,
+persuasively, but Fairy Queen curtsied, and answered:</p>
+
+<p>"I pray you excuse me, I'm on duty for the Company in Wayverne Square."</p>
+
+<p>I guessed that there was something behind all this, and the sequel
+proved my conjecture true.</p>
+
+<p>For when the Bal Masqu&eacute; was a golden memory, Maura came to me with a
+little bundle of receipted bills in her hand, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Look, Gloria, "Fairy Queen" paid <i>these</i>. I was with Ivy in a
+confectioner's one day when the mistress told us that a member of the
+newly started firm of sweetmeat manufacturers, who traded as the
+Fairyland Company, had said that he wished <i>he</i> had a daughter who could
+go to the ball as Fairy Queen, and exploit his goods.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought to myself: 'Well, Maura Merle could do it,' and I went to the
+Company and offered to undertake the duty, subject, of course, to Miss
+Melford's permission.</p>
+
+<p>"They said they would give me a handsome sum, and provide the dress, and
+I wrote to Uncle Felix, and begged him to let me have his sanction.</p>
+
+<p>"His answer was: 'The money will be honestly earned, earn it.'</p>
+
+<p>"So I did! The Company were much pleased with me, and here are the
+receipted bills. I need hardly tell you how much I enjoyed being what a
+newsboy in the street called me, 'The Little Chocolate Girl!'"</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_IV" id="GLORIA_DENE_IV"></a>IV.&mdash;MARGOT: THE MARTYR.</h3>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_IV_I" id="GLORIA_DENE_IV_I"></a>I.<br />
+<span class="smcap">At School.</span></h4>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle Margot, Professor Revere's daughter, who has come to share
+your English studies, girls," said Miss Melford, presenting a tall,
+clear-complexioned, sweet-faced girl one May morning on the opening of
+school.</p>
+
+<p>The new-comer bowed gracefully, and then took a vacant seat next to me,
+and we all took good-natured notice of her, for her black frock was worn
+for her newly lost mother, and her father, our popular French master,
+was an exile, who for a supposed political offence had forfeited his
+estate, near La Ville Sonnante, as the old city of Avignon is often
+called. Margot would have been <i>une grande demoiselle</i> in her own
+country had not monsieur fallen under the displeasure of a powerful
+cabinet minister during a change of <i>r&eacute;gime</i>, and Miss Melford's girls
+were of opinion that the position would have suited her, and she the
+position.</p>
+
+<p>Mademoiselle Margot soon interested us all, not only in herself, but in
+her antecedents and prospects. She was never tired of talking of her old
+associations, and that with an enthusiasm that aroused our sympathy and
+inspired our hopes.</p>
+
+<p>"Picture to yourself," she would say, "Mon D&eacute;sir on a summer's day, the
+lawns spreading out their lovely carpet for the feet, the trees waving
+their glorious foliage overhead, the birds singing in the branches, the
+bees humming in the parterre, and the water plashing in the fountains.
+<i>Maman</i> loved it, as I did, and the country people loved us as we loved
+them. <i>Maman</i> used to say, 'A little sunshine, a little love, a little
+self-denial, that is life.' Even had we been poor there, walked instead
+of ridden, ate brown bread in lieu of white, we should have been amongst
+our own people. But now&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>Then we would all crowd round her and spin romances about the Prince
+Charming who would come her way, and present her with Mon D&eacute;sir, with
+all its dear delights, and with it&mdash;his own hand.</p>
+
+<p>Margot's failing was a too sensitive pride. She was proud both of and
+for the professor. She could not forget that he was, as she would say,
+<i>un grand gentilhomme</i>, that his ancestors had fought with Bayard and
+Turenne, had been gentlemen-in-waiting to kings, had wedded women who
+were ladies of the court.</p>
+
+<p>I discovered this slight fault of my darling's on one occasion in this
+way: as we girls were going our usual noonday walk, we came to a large,
+red-brick house, standing alone in its own grounds; it was not a cottage
+of gentility, but a place which an estate agent would have described as
+a desirable mansion. Everything about it, mutely, but eloquently, said
+money. Big glass-houses, big coach-houses, big plate glass windows,
+spacious gardens, trim lawns, etc., etc., etc.</p>
+
+<p>As the school filed past, an elaborate barouche drew up to the iron
+gateway, and a lady, who was about entering it, stared at our party, and
+then looked keenly at Margot. She was a pretty woman, blonde, with a
+mass of fluffy, honey-coloured hair, and a cold, pale blue pair of eyes.
+Her costume was of smooth, blue-grey cloth, the flowing cloak lined with
+ermine, and her hat a marvel of millinery; indeed, she presented a
+striking contrast to the professor's daughter in her plain, neat black
+coat and frock, and small toque, with its trimming of white narcissi,
+and I cannot say that I was favourably impressed by the unknown, she was
+far too cold and purse-proud looking to please me.</p>
+
+<p>After a close and none too polite scrutiny, the lady bowed, approached,
+and held out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning, Miss Revere," she said graciously, yet with more than a
+suspicion of patronage, "I trust the professor is well," and without
+waiting for an answer, "and your mother? We have been so busy
+entertaining, that I have been quite unable to call, or send! However,
+tell her that I am going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> to send for her to Bellevue, the very <i>first</i>
+day I'm alone, the <i>very first</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>We two girls were alone (the rest having gone on with Fr&auml;ulein
+Schwartze), and there was silence for a moment, during which the lady
+turned toward her well-appointed carriage; then Margot spoke, with some
+asperity, though I heard the tears in her silvery voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Seawood," she said, "there is no more need to trouble; <i>maman</i> has
+gone where no one will be ashamed of her because she was poor."</p>
+
+<p>The lady turned a little pale, and expressed herself as shocked, and
+then, having offered some cold condolences, spoke to the coachman; and
+as we passed on we heard the quick rattle of the horses' hoofs, as the
+barouche rolled down the long drive.</p>
+
+<p>There are times when silence is golden, and <i>this</i> was one! I did not
+speak until we came to a five-barred gate, on the topmost rung of which
+Margot laid her arms, bent her head, and sobbed like a little child.</p>
+
+<p>I put my arm round her neck to comfort her.</p>
+
+<p>"Margot, <i>ch&eacute;rie</i>," I whispered, "tell me why you weep."</p>
+
+<p>It appeared that the professor had been used to teach the little
+delicate son of the purse-proud lady, and that he had taken great
+interest in the little fellow both on account of his backwardness and
+frail health.</p>
+
+<p>"After he died," said Margot, "his mother seemed grateful for these
+small kindnesses, and called upon us. Sometimes she sent the carriage
+for <i>maman</i> to spend a few hours at Bellevue, but always when the
+weather was unpleasant. Then, you see, I used to go to the Seawoods for
+my mother, take bouquets of violets, Easter eggs, and other small
+complimentary tokens of regard, and madame would exclaim, 'How sweet!'
+or 'How lovely!' but always in a patronising manner. I only told the
+'How sweet!' and 'How beautiful!' to mother, because <i>she</i> used to look
+wistfully at me, and say how glad she was that I had some English
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>"Once, I remember, I was passing Bellevue at night with papa; it was a
+cold, January evening, with snow falling,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> and we shivered a little.
+They were giving a grand party, the house was lit up like an enchanted
+palace, and papa (who is often as sweetly simple as Don Quixote) said:</p>
+
+<p>"'I cannot understand why your friends have overlooked you, <i>petite</i>,
+you could have worn the little grey frock with blue trimmings, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>"They never understood how hollow a friendship it was. They could not
+realise that others could display a meanness of which they themselves
+were incapable, and I suppose it was only my own proud heart, less free
+from the vanity of human weakness than theirs, which made me detect and
+resent it; and so I had to endure the misery of this proud patronage and
+let my parents think I was enjoying the friendship of love. To be proud
+and dependent, Gloria, is to be poor indeed. But I must conquer my
+pride, if only that I may conquer my poverty, and as Miss Melford told
+us at scripture this morning, he that conquers his own proud heart is
+greater than he that taketh a city."</p>
+
+<p>Then she linked her arm in mine, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"The Good God has allowed me to become poor, but he has given me <i>one</i>
+talent, I can paint, and if only for papa's sake I must overcome evil
+with good and try to win a victory over myself."</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_IV_II" id="GLORIA_DENE_IV_II"></a>II.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Palm-Bearers.</span></h4>
+
+<p>Miss Melford, and a chosen party of the senior girls (of whom I was
+one), stood in our beautiful Art Gallery attentively studying a water
+colour on the line. The picture was numbered 379 in the catalogue, was
+called "Palm-Bearers," and was painted by Miss Margot Revere! <i>Our
+Margot</i>, the girl who had been my classmate, whom I had loved as a
+sister. The scene portrayed was a procession of early Christians
+entering an Eastern city at Eastertide. There were matrons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> and maids,
+golden-haired children, and white-haired men, all bearing green palm
+branches, under an intense, cerulean sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Well done, Margot," said Miss Melford softly, with a suspicious dimness
+in her eyes, and there was a general chorus of approval from all
+beholders.</p>
+
+<p>Margot, who was much older than I, had left school long since, had
+studied, worked, copied in the great Art Galleries, exhibited, and sold
+her works.</p>
+
+<p>She was then in Rome with her father, who had become blind, and I had at
+that moment a long letter from her in my bag, as I stood looking at her
+picture. In one passage of it she had written: "the girl with the crown
+of white roses in my last painting is my little Gloria, my girl comrade,
+who consoled me when I was sad, who watched next my pillow when I was
+sick, and when sad memories made me cry at night crept to me through the
+long dormitory and knelt beside me, like a white-robed ministering
+angel. Apropos of palms, mama was a palm-bearer; I must win one before I
+look on her dear, dear face." As I thought on these words, Miss
+Melford's voice speaking to Gurda broke in on my thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, dear, how extremely like to Gloria is that figure in the middle
+of Margot's painting!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, Miss Melford, Margot will have sketched it from her. She was
+her chum, her soul's sister."</p>
+
+<p>"Her soul's sister!" Those three words went with me through the gallery;
+into the sculpture room, amidst white marble figures, into the room full
+of Delia Robbia and majolica ware, everywhere!</p>
+
+<p>Even when we descended the flight of steps, and came into the great
+white square, I seemed to hear them in the plashing of the fountains.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_IV_III" id="GLORIA_DENE_IV_III"></a>III.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Rain of Fire.</span></h4>
+
+<p>It was August, and rain had fallen on the hot, parched earth.</p>
+
+<p>The bells in the church tower were ringing a muffled peal, and as I
+listened to the sad, sweet music, I thought of Margot, lonely Margot,
+who had seen her father laid under the ilex trees, and then gone to
+visit a distant relative at Ch&acirc;teau Belair in the West Indies. It was a
+strange coincidence, but as I thought of her the servant brought in a
+card, bearing the name, M. Achille Levasseur, beneath which was
+pencilled:</p>
+
+<p>"Late of Ch&acirc;teau Belair, and cousin of the late Mademoiselle Margot
+Revere."</p>
+
+<p>So Margot was dead, had gone to join her loved ones where there are no
+distinctions between rich and poor.</p>
+
+<p>Stunned, and half incredulous, I told the maid to show him in, and in a
+few minutes a tall, dark, foreign looking man stood in the bright,
+flower-scented room which (it being recess), I occupied in Miss
+Melford's absence.</p>
+
+<p>I rose, bowed, and asked him to be seated, then, with an effort, said:</p>
+
+<p>"M'sieu, I am Gloria, Margot's chum, and chosen sister. Tell <i>me</i> about
+her."</p>
+
+<p>The story was a short one, we had neither of us a desire to dwell upon
+the details. The island had been subject to the fury rain of a
+quenchless volcano. Whole villages had been overwhelmed and buried in
+the burning lava, and hundreds had met with a fiery death. In the midst
+of the mad confusion, Margot's calm presence and example inspired the
+strong, reassured the terrified, aided the feeble, and helped many on
+the way to safety. How many owed their lives to her, her cousin could
+not say, but that it was at the cost of her own, was only too terribly
+true. She had helped her cousin's family on to the higher ground, which
+ensured safety from the boiling lava, only to discover that one little
+one had been left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> behind peacefully sleeping in her cot, the little
+baby who had been christened Gloria at Margot's desire in memory of me.
+It was a terrible moment to all but Margot, and to her it was the moment
+of a supreme inspiration. She dashed down the hill before she could be
+stayed, though the ground shook under her feet, and the burning sea of
+fiery rain was pouring down the valley below. She reached the house and
+seized the infant, and started with frenzied speed to ascend the hill
+again. Her cousin, who had seen to the safety of the others of his
+family, had now started out to meet her. They saw each other and hurried
+with all the speed they could to meet. Within touch a terrific explosion
+deafened them as the father seized his child, and Margot, struck by a
+boulder belched from the throat of the fierce volcano, sank back into
+the fiery sea.</p>
+
+<p>As M. Levasseur ceased, there came through the open window the silvery
+sound of the minster bells. They were playing the lovely air,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Angels ever bright and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take, O take, me to your care.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It came to me that they had taken Margot in a chariot of fire, and I
+seemed to see her in an angel throng with a palm branch in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>My favourite trinket is a heart-shaped locket, containing a lock of dark
+brown hair, intermixed with golden threads. It is both a souvenir, and a
+mascot; for the hair is from the head of my girl chum Margot.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_V" id="GLORIA_DENE_V"></a>V.&mdash;IRENE: THE SNOW FLOWER.</h3>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_V_I" id="GLORIA_DENE_V_I"></a>I.<br />
+<span class="smcap">Bedfellows.</span></h4>
+
+<p>Amongst Miss Melford's intimate friends, when I was a boarder at her
+school, was a silvery-haired, stately lady, known<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> as Mrs. Dace, who in
+her early life had been <i>gouvernante</i> to the Imperial children at the
+court of the Czar. Her old friends and pupils wrote to her frequently,
+and she still took a keen interest in the Slav, and in things Slavonic.</p>
+
+<p>When her Russian friends&mdash;the Petrovskys&mdash;came to England, they left
+their youngest child, Irene, as a pupil at Miss Melford's school, to
+pursue her education while they travelled in Western Europe for a while.</p>
+
+<p>Irene Petrovsky was a pretty little thing, with flaxen hair and clear
+blue eyes, and we called her the Snow Flower, after that beautiful
+Siberian plant which blooms only in midwinter. I have never forgotten
+her first appearance at the school. When Miss Melford led her into the
+classroom we all looked up at the small figure in its plain white cloth
+frock trimmed with golden sable, and admired the tiny fair curls which
+clustered round her white brow. She made a grand court curtsey, and then
+sat silently, like a wee white flower, in a corner.</p>
+
+<p>We elder pupils were made guardians of the younger ones in Miss
+Melford's school, and it was my duty as Irene's guardian to take her to
+rest in the little white nest next to mine in the long dormitory. In the
+middle of the first night I was disturbed by a faint sobbing near me,
+and I sat up to listen. The sobs proceeded from the bed of the little
+Russian girl, and I found she was crying for her elder sister, who, she
+said, used to take her in her arms and hold her by the hand until she
+fell asleep. A happy thought came to me; my white nest was larger than
+hers. So I bade her creep into it, which she readily did, and nestled up
+to me, like a trembling, affrighted little bird, falling at last into a
+calm, sweet sleep.</p>
+
+<p>From that time forward we two were firm friends, and the girls used to
+call the Little Russ, Gloria's shadow.</p>
+
+<p>She was very grateful, and I in my turn grew to love her dearly; so
+dearly that when her father, the count, came to take her home, in
+consequence of the death of her mother, I felt as if I had lost a little
+sister.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>Ever after this our little snow flower was a fragrant memory to me. I
+often thought of her, and wondered as I watched the white clouds moving
+across the summer sky, or the silver moon shining in the heavens,
+whether she too was looking out upon the same fair scene from the other
+side the sea and thinking of her some time sister of Miss Melford's
+school.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_V_II" id="GLORIA_DENE_V_II"></a>II.<br />
+<span class="smcap">After Many Days.</span></h4>
+
+<p>Some years after I had left the school financial difficulties beset my
+uncle's affairs. Aunt Ducie died in the midst of them, and Uncle Gervase
+did not long survive. Our household gods went under the auctioneer's
+hammer, our beautiful home became the home of strangers, and I went to
+live in an obscure quarter of a distant town. My means being exceeding
+small, I took rooms in a small house in a semi-rural suburb, and from
+thence began to look for work for pen and pencil. I had learned to draw,
+and had succeeded in one or two small attempts at story telling, and
+with my pen and pencil for crutches, and with youth and hope on my side,
+I started out with nervous confidence upon the highway of fame.</p>
+
+<p>Cherry-Tree Avenue was a long, narrow street within a stone's throw of
+the grim, grey castellated towers of the county gaol, and the weekly
+tenants who took the small, red-brick houses were continually changing.</p>
+
+<p>Facing us was No. 3, Magdala Terrace, a house which was empty for some
+weeks, but one April evening a large van full of new furniture drove up
+to it, followed by a respectable looking man and woman of the artisan
+class, who soon began to set the house in order. Before sleep had fallen
+on the shabby street a cab drove up to No. 3, and from it stepped a
+woman, tall, slight, and closely veiled. I had been to the pillar box to
+post an answer to an advertisement, and it happened that I passed the
+door of the newly let house as the cab drew up. Without waiting to be
+summoned, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> trim young woman came out to welcome the new-comer, and
+said in French:</p>
+
+<p>"Madame, the place is poor, but clean, and quiet, and," lowering her
+voice, "fitted for observation."</p>
+
+<p>In spite of my own anxieties I wondered who the stranger could be, and
+why the little house was to be an observatory. Then I remembered the
+vicinity of the big gaol, and thought that madame might have an interest
+in one of the black sheep incarcerated there.</p>
+
+<p>Very soon strange rumours began to circulate amongst the dwellers in the
+avenue. The bright young woman was madame's foster sister; madame
+herself was of high degree, a countess, or one of even nobler rank,
+travelling in disguise; the quiet, dark young man, her foster sister's
+husband, was a woodcarver, who was out of work and only too glad to
+serve the foreign lady, who out of generous pity had come to stay with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>I, of course, gave no credence to these seemingly absurd reports, but,
+all the same, I was aware that there was a mystery at No. 3. The lady
+was young, beautiful, and distinguished looking, she had dark, pathetic,
+haunting eyes, which reminded me forcibly of other eyes I had seen, but
+when and where I could not recall; and though her dresses were dark,
+they were <i>chic</i>, the word Paris was writ plain on all her toques.</p>
+
+<p>Madame made no friends, and it was clear from the first that she desired
+to be undisturbed, at any rate by her neighbours. Every now and again
+there were visitors at No 3, but these were strangers, foreign looking
+visitors, cloaked, swarthy and sombre men who came and went, one of whom
+I overheard say in French as he flicked the ash from his cigar: "Chut!
+the rat keeps in his hole, he will not stir."</p>
+
+<p>At Maytime, in the early gloaming, the foreign lady and I met in the
+narrow street.</p>
+
+<p>We met face to face, and passed each other with a slight bow of
+recognition; a moment after I heard soft, hurried footfalls, and the
+strange lady was by my side.</p>
+
+<p>She held out an envelope addressed to me, saying:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>"Pardon me, if I mistake not, you dropped this. Is it not so?"</p>
+
+<p>I thanked her, and took the letter, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"It <i>is</i> mine, and I should have troubled had I lost it."</p>
+
+<p>This little incident broke down our old-time reserve, and saying:</p>
+
+<p>"I go to-morrow," she placed a bunch of amber roses she was carrying in
+my hand. I thanked her, and asked by what name I might remember her?</p>
+
+<p>"As Nadine," she whispered softly. "I need not ask you yours."</p>
+
+<p>The mention of the name electrified me. Here was I bidding farewell to
+Nadine, whose little sister Irene, our sweet snow flower, I had loved
+and lost at the old school far away.</p>
+
+<p>Nadine noticed my excitement, and putting her finger to her lips,
+cautioned me to silence. But I was not to be denied.</p>
+
+<p>"Irene?" I said in a whisper, "Irene, where is Irene?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" she said, taking me by the arm and drawing me in at the open
+doorway of No. 3. "Speak of it not again. Irene fell a victim to our
+cruel Russian laws, and lies beside her husband among the snow tombs of
+Siberia."</p>
+
+<p>The next morning the strange dark house was empty. The woodcarver and
+his wife, and the beautiful Nadine, had vanished with the shadows of the
+night.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_VI" id="GLORIA_DENE_VI"></a>VI.&mdash;NADINE: THE PRINCESS.</h3>
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_VI_I" id="GLORIA_DENE_VI_I"></a>I.<br />
+<span class="smcap">Whichello Towers.</span></h4>
+
+<p>It was between the lights. I was looking down the dingy street from
+behind the curtains of my little window at the postman who was working
+his way slowly from side to side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> delivering his messages of hope and
+fear, and was wondering whether I was among those to whom he bore
+tidings of joy or sorrow. I had few correspondents, and no expectations,
+and so it was with surprise that I saw him ultimately turn in at our
+little garden gate and place a letter in our box.</p>
+
+<p>I was not long in breaking the seal, and it was with real delight and
+surprise that I discovered that it was from my old schoolfellow, the
+generous and sometimes extravagant Maura. It ran thus:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p style="text-align: right;">
+"<span class="smcap">Whichello Towers</span>,&nbsp;&nbsp;<br />
+<i>October 3rd.</i></p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear absurd little Gloria</span>,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Why have you hidden away from your friends so long? Was it
+pride, self-styled dignity? Never mind, I have found you
+out at last, and I want you to join our house-party here.
+We have some interesting people with us of whom you can
+make pencil sketches and pen pictures (they call them
+cameos or thumbnails, do they not?). Amongst them are the
+beautiful Princess Milontine, who wrote, 'Over the
+Steppes,' and the famous Russian General, Loris Trakoff.</p>
+
+<p>"The change will do you good. Name the day and time of your
+arrival, and I will meet you at the station. There are
+surprises in store for you, but you must come if you would
+realise them.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right;">"Your affectionate <span class="smcap">Maura</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I put by the missive, and meditated over the pros and cons. My wardrobe
+would need replenishing, and I had none too much money to spend. I could
+manage this, however, but there arose another question.</p>
+
+<p>I was a worker&mdash;would it do me harm to disport myself in the flowery
+mead with the butterflies? Should I feel a distaste for the bread earned
+by labour and pain after the honey placed, effortless, on my plate?</p>
+
+<p>So much for the cons. The pros were these:</p>
+
+<p>Black, being most inexpensive in a smoky town, was my wear, relieved by
+a few touches of blue. And I should not go as a butterfly, but as a
+quiet worker in my dark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> things. I need only buy a new walking costume,
+and a fresh dinner dress. The costume difficulty was disposed of. Then
+again, I had been without a day's change for five years; and here was
+the prospect of one I should enjoy. The pros had the victory, I went.</p>
+
+<p>I arrived at the station in the gloaming, when twilight veiled the
+everlasting hills, and found two figures waiting on the narrow platform.</p>
+
+<p>One of these had a fresh, fair, bonnie face, framed in hair of a golden
+brown, and I knew her for Maura Merle, my old schoolfellow, the lady of
+Whichello Towers. The other was darker, taller, and the very dark blue
+eyes had a pensive expression, she could have posed as a study for
+Milton's <i>Il Pensoroso</i>, and I did not recognise her for an instant, and
+then I exclaimed: "Not&mdash;not 'Stella."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, 'Stella," said Maura. Our own beautiful Estella and the miser's
+heiress came forward and kissed my first surprise away. As she did so I
+noticed that she was wearing the beautiful coral set which had wrought
+the tragedy of her school days.</p>
+
+<p>We had naturally much to say to each other, and as we walked towards
+Whichello Towers together, Maura said:</p>
+
+<p>"You have worked and suffered, Gloria, since we were last together. You
+look thoughtful, are graver, and there are violet circles under your
+eyes, which used to be so merry."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said, "I've had to fight the battle of life for myself since I
+left school, but it makes the more welcome this reunion with my old
+schoolfellows."</p>
+
+<p>"Speaking of them," interposed Maura, "we have Princess Milontine
+staying with us&mdash;little Irene's sister&mdash;I left her doing the honours on
+my behalf when I came to meet you."</p>
+
+<p>This then was the second surprise in store for me. Neither of my
+companions had the slightest idea how great a surprise it was.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally, we had much to talk of during our walk up to the Towers, Miss
+Melford had passed away, and one or two of my old companions had
+followed her across the border.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> Irene was, of course, one of them, but
+I took the news of her death as though I had not heard it before.</p>
+
+<p>I had not heard of Miss Melford's death previously, and the angel of
+memory came down and troubled the waters of my soul, so I was silent for
+a time.</p>
+
+<p>The silence was broken by Maura, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"There is something painful, if not tragical, connected with Irene's
+death, of which the princess refuses to speak; so the subject is never
+mentioned to her." And then, as if to change the subject, she added, "I
+have named my little daughter Cordelia after Miss Melford, but we call
+her Corrie."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke we came in sight of The Towers&mdash;a large, four-winged
+mansion, with pepper box turrets, oriel windows, a square lawn, and many
+tree-lined walks.</p>
+
+<p>"Home," said Maura, and in a few minutes I found myself in the large
+warm hall, bright with firelight, and sweet with autumn flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Standing by a table, and turning over the leaves of a book, stood a
+graceful woman in fawn and cream, who turned round upon our entrance,
+saying:</p>
+
+<p>"There is tea on the way, you will take some?"</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, princess, yes, directly we come down," said Maura, and then
+she added: "See, I have brought an old friend to see you, Gloria,
+Princess Milontine."</p>
+
+<p>The foreign lady held out her hand, and as I took it I found myself
+almost involuntarily murmuring, "Nadine." For the dark pathetic eyes of
+the Russian princess were those of the mysterious foreigner who had
+lodged in Cherry-Tree Avenue. She kissed me (foreign fashion) on both
+cheeks, and as she did so whispered: "Hush! let the dead past sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Wondering much, I held my peace and went to inspect the sunshine of
+Whichello Towers, the pretty dimpled Corrie; and though I forgot the
+incident during the evening, I remembered it when I found myself in my
+own room.</p>
+
+<p>Why had Nadine lived in the mean street with the so-called woodcarver
+and his wife? She was a widow, true, but widows of rank do not usually
+lodge in such humble places for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> pleasure. Then again, what was the
+mystery attaching to Irene? Would the tangled skein ever be unravelled?
+Time would show.</p>
+
+<p>Whichello Towers was more than a great house, it was a home, a northern
+liberty hall, surrounded by woods and big breezy moors. There was
+something for every one in this broad domain. A fine library full of
+rare editions of rare books, a museum of natural history specimens, a
+gallery of antiquities, a lake on which to skate or row, preserves in
+which to shoot, a grand ball-room with an old-world polished floor, a
+long corridor full of pictures and articles of vertu, and a beautiful
+music-room.</p>
+
+<p>Princess Nadine and I were much together, we talked of her little
+sister's school-days, but never of her latter ones, the subject was
+evidently tabooed.</p>
+
+<p>General Trakoff (a stern, military man who had once been governor of the
+penal settlement of O&mdash;&mdash;) was evidently devoted to the beautiful Russ,
+and I found myself hoping that she would not become "Madame la
+G&eacute;n&eacute;rale," for though the general was the very pink of politeness, I
+could not like him.</p>
+
+<p>I had spent a happy fortnight at the Towers when the incident occurred
+which will always remain the most vivid in my memory. A sudden and
+severe frost had set in. All the trees turned to white coral, the lake
+was frozen stone hard. There were naturally many skating parties
+organised, and in these Nadine and I generally joined. One morning,
+after we had been skating for nearly half an hour, the princess averred
+herself tired, and said she would stand out for a time. The general
+declared that he would also rest awhile, and the two left the lake
+together, and stood watching the skaters at the edge of the pine wood.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-by I too grew a little weary, and thought I would go for a stroll
+by myself through the woods I loved so much. The air was fresh and keen,
+squirrels jumped about in the trees, and the storm-cock sang blithely.
+Through an opening in the glade I saw the princess and the general
+chatting <i>en t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>As I came up the former was saying, in a tone of earnest raillery:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, tell me, general, is there nothing you regret doing, or having
+allowed to be done, when you were administrator of O&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>She spoke with a strange, almost tragic, earnestness, and when her
+companion replied:</p>
+
+<p>"No, on my honour, princess."</p>
+
+<p>She bowed gravely. A moment later, with a careless laugh, she opened a
+gold bonbonni&egrave;re full of chocolate caramels, and held it temptingly
+towards him.</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated, and as he did so I put my arm through the branches, and
+with a playful:</p>
+
+<p>"By your leave, princess," attempted to help myself.</p>
+
+<p>Nadine started, and closed the box with a snap, a strange pallor coming
+over her white, set face. The general looked gravely at her, and then,
+raising his hat, with a "Till we meet again," walked leisurely away.</p>
+
+<p>I must own to being slightly offended, I was childishly fond of
+chocolate, and the act seemed so inexplicably discourteous. We walked to
+the house in silence, neither of us speaking, until we reached the side
+entrance. Here the princess paused by the nail-studded oaken door, and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"There will come a day when things done in secret will be declared upon
+the housetops, then (if not before) you will know the secret of the gold
+bonbonni&egrave;re. Say, 'Forgiven, Nadine.'"</p>
+
+<p>And I said it with my hand in hers.</p>
+
+<p>How glad I was afterwards that I had done so.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="GLORIA_DENE_VI_II" id="GLORIA_DENE_VI_II"></a>II.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Passing of Nadine.</span></h4>
+
+<p>Throughout the great house of Whichello Towers there was a hush.
+Soft-footed servants went to and fro, all the guests save Estella and I
+went away with many condolences.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> The Princess Nadine was passing away
+in the room overlooking the pine woods. She had been thrown from her
+horse whilst hunting with the Whichello hounds, and the end was not far
+off.</p>
+
+<p>I was sitting in the library with a great sadness in my heart, when the
+door opened, and Canon Manningtree, the white-haired rector of
+Whichello, came into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Dene," he said gravely, "in the absence of a priest of the Greek
+Church, I have ministered to Princess Milontine. She is going to meet a
+merciful Saviour who knows her temptations, and the singular
+circumstances in which she has been placed. She desires to see you. Do
+not excite her. Speak to her of the infinite love of God. Will you
+please go to her <i>now</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Weeping, I went.</p>
+
+<p>Sitting beside the sufferer was Maura, who rose when I came in, and left
+us two alone, save for that unseen Angel who calls us to the presence of
+our God.</p>
+
+<p>The princess looked at me with her beautiful wistful eyes, as she had
+looked when she gave me the amber roses in the narrow street.</p>
+
+<p>"Gloria, little sister, I am going to tell <i>how</i> Irene died."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, not if it distresses you."</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather tell you. Listen! I have not much time to speak. As you
+know, we are of a noble Russian family, and Irene and I were the only
+children. I was ten years older than Irene, and was educated in France;
+she came to England, and was your schoolmate!</p>
+
+<p>"I was passionately fond of the child I had seen an infant lying in her
+pink-lined cot, and when she came out and married Prince Alex Laskine, I
+prayed that God's sunshine might light on my darling's head. Then, I
+myself married, and travelled with my husband in all kinds of strange,
+out-of-the-way places; in one of which he died, and I came back to St.
+Petersburgh, a childless, lonely widow!</p>
+
+<p>"But there was no Irene; her husband had been implicated in a plot, and
+had been sent to O&mdash;&mdash;, one of the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> desolate places in Siberia, and
+my sister had voluntarily accompanied him!</p>
+
+<p>"When I heard this, I never rested until I too was en route to Siberia!
+I wanted to take Irene in my arms and to console her as her dead mother
+would have done. O&mdash;&mdash; was a fearful place, just a colony of dreary huts
+by the sea. Behind were the wolf-infested forests; in the midst of it,
+the frowning fortress prison! When I showed my ukase, and demanded to
+see my relations, they simply showed me two graves. Irene and Alex
+rested side by side, in the silent acre, and an exile told me <i>how</i> they
+had died! Alex had been knouted for refusing to play the part of Judas,
+and had passed away in the fortress. Irene was found dead inside their
+small wooden hut, kneeling beside her bed. Her heart had broken! My
+little Snow Flower had been crushed under the iron heel of despotism.</p>
+
+<p>"He by whose mandate this iniquity was done was General Loris Trakoff,
+the governor of the province! I was turned to stone by Irene's grave,
+and afterwards became a partisan of the Nihilists.</p>
+
+<p>"Night and day I pondered upon how I could be revenged upon Trakoff, and
+at last Fate seemed to favour me.</p>
+
+<p>"The general (so it was reported) was coming to visit a former friend of
+his. I made up my mind to be there also, and to shoot him, if
+opportunity served.</p>
+
+<p>"So, two members of our society, a young mechanic and his wife, rented a
+house in Cherry-Tree Avenue, to which I came, and whilst waiting for my
+revenge I became acquainted with you."</p>
+
+<p>She paused, whispered, "The restorative," and I gave her the medicine.</p>
+
+<p>The sweet, faint voice spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew that you were Irene's friend because I saw your name upon the
+letter that I picked up, and I loved you, Gloria, aye, and was sorry for
+you."</p>
+
+<p>I laid my cheek next hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, I knew it, and was fond of you."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>"Fond of the Nihilist Princess, my little English Gloria! 'Tis a strange
+world!</p>
+
+<p>"After all, the general did not come, and then we all left. I bided my
+time. No outsider knew me for a <i>R&eacute;volutionnaire</i>, so I mixed in society
+as before, and accepted the invitation to Whichello, on purpose to meet
+him here.</p>
+
+<p>"The bonbonni&egrave;re was filled with poisoned caramels, prepared by a
+Nihilist chemist, and it was my intention to destroy myself after I had
+destroyed my enemy. I gave him one chance; I asked him if he repented of
+anything, and he answered 'No.'</p>
+
+<p>"At the great crisis your little hand, as a hand from another world&mdash;as
+Irene's hand might have done&mdash;came between us.</p>
+
+<p>"Your coming saved him. I could not let you share his fate."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, thank God!" I said. "Nadine, tell me&mdash;tell God, that you are sorry,
+that you repent your dreadful purpose."</p>
+
+<p>"I do, I do," she whispered. "Lying here I see all the sins, the errors,
+the mistakes. I do not despair of God's mercy though I am myself
+deserving of His wrath. Irene used to tell me that when she fell asleep,
+in the new world of school life, it was in your arms. Put them round me,
+Gloria, and let me fall asleep."</p>
+
+<p>I placed my arm gently, very gently, under her head, and then sat very
+still.</p>
+
+<p>I heard the big clock in the clock-tower slowly and distinctly strike
+the hour of twelve, I saw the pale lips move and heard them murmur:
+"Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere mei."</p>
+
+<p>But save for this, all was silence! And in the silence Princess Nadine
+slept.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="MY_YEAR_AT_SCHOOL" id="MY_YEAR_AT_SCHOOL"></a>MY YEAR AT SCHOOL.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY MARGARET WATSON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I was rather old to start out as a school-girl, for I was seventeen, and
+had never been to school before.</p>
+
+<p>We lived in the heart of the country, and my education had been rather
+casual&mdash;broken into now for a day's work, and now for a day's play, now
+for visitors staying in the house, now for a visit to friends or
+relations; as is the way when you are one of a large family, and do your
+lessons at home&mdash;especially if your tastes lie rather in the line of
+doing than thinking.</p>
+
+<p>I did not love books. I loved gardening and riding the pony, and making
+cakes, and minding the baby. My sisters were much cleverer than I, and I
+had never believed it possible that I could excel in anything requiring
+study, so I satisfied myself with being rather clever with my hands.</p>
+
+<p>However, I didn't really mind work of any kind, and I worked at my
+lessons when I <i>was</i> at them, though I was always ready enough to throw
+them aside for anything else that might turn up. When my mother said I
+must go away to a good school for a year I was quite willing. I always
+loved a change.</p>
+
+<p>The school chosen was a London High School, and I was to board with some
+people we knew. They had no connection with the school, so I was thrown
+pretty much on my own resources, and had to find my way about for
+myself.</p>
+
+<p>I had to go up first for the entrance exam., and I shall never forget my
+feelings that day. The headmistress had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> a sharp, quick manner, and I
+thought she set me down as very stupid for my age. I was put in a room
+with a lot of girls, mostly younger than myself, and given a set of
+exam. papers to do. The way the questions were put was new to me, I was
+nervous and worried, but I worked on doggedly with the courage of
+despair, certain that I was showing appalling ignorance for a girl of
+seventeen, and that I should be placed in a form with the babies.</p>
+
+<p>Two very pretty girls were working beside me. They had curly black hair,
+and bright complexions, and lovely dark eyes, and there was a fair girl,
+who wrote diligently all the time, and seemed in no difficulty. When it
+was over I asked her how she had got on, and she said she had found it
+quite easy, and answered most of the questions. We compared notes, and I
+saw that if she was right I must be wrong, and as she was quite sure she
+was right I went home very despondent indeed, but determined to work my
+way up from the bottom if need be.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning I hardened my heart for what was to befall me, and started
+for school. I had to go by omnibus, and found one that ran just at the
+right time.</p>
+
+<p>I was met at the school entrance by a tall, thin, small-featured lady,
+who wore glasses, and spoke in a sharp, clear voice, but quite kindly,
+telling me that I was in the Fifth Form, and my desk was that nearest
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>There was a good deal of crush and confusion as there were a lot of new
+girls, and I sat at my desk and wondered whether the Fifth Form was the
+highest or the lowest. I could hardly believe I was in the highest form,
+but the other girls sitting at the desks looked as old as myself. The
+two pretty dark girls were there, but I saw no sign of the fair girl who
+had worked so easily.</p>
+
+<p>I sat and watched for her, and presently she came in, but she was moved
+on to the form behind. She was in the Fourth Form, and I heard her
+name&mdash;Mabel Smith.</p>
+
+<p>I had a good report at the end of the first term, and went home
+happy&mdash;very happy to get home again, for I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> never been so long away
+before, and I found my little brothers grown out of knowledge. But the
+Christmas holidays were soon over, and I went back in a cold, snowy
+week; and London snow is a miserable spectacle, not like the lovely pure
+white covering which hides up all dirt and ugliness in the country.</p>
+
+<p>However, I knew my way about by this time, and found my old familiar bus
+waiting for me, and the conductor greeted me with great friendliness. He
+was a most kind man, and always waited for me as long as he could.</p>
+
+<p>This term we had a new mistress for mathematics, and I didn't like her a
+bit.</p>
+
+<p>I was always very slow and stupid at mathematics, and the new mistress
+was so quick, she worked away like lightning, and I <i>could</i> not follow
+her. She would rush through a proposition in Euclid, proving that some
+figure was, or was not equal to some other figure, and leave me stranded
+vainly trying to understand the first proof when she was at the last,
+and I <i>couldn't</i> care, anyhow, whether one line could be proved equal to
+another or not, I felt it would be much simpler to measure it and have
+done with it. It was the same in arithmetic; she took us through
+innumerable step-fractions with innumerable steps, just as fast as she
+could put the figures down, and all I could do was to stare stupidly at
+the blackboard and hope that I might be able to worry some sense out of
+it all at home; and she gave us so much home-work that I had to toil
+till after ten at night, and then had to leave my sums half done, or
+neglect my other work altogether.</p>
+
+<p>I was slow and stupid, I knew, but the others all suffered too, though
+not so much, and presently complaints were made by all the other
+mistresses that their work was not done, and all the girls had the same
+reason to give, the arithmetic took so long.</p>
+
+<p>So Miss Vinton made out a time-table for our prep., and said we were to
+leave off when the time was up, whether we'd finished or not. It was a
+great relief, my hair was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> turning grey with the work and worry! But I
+did not get on at all with mathematics, and in the end of term exam. I
+came out very badly in that and in French.</p>
+
+<p>As most of us had done badly in those subjects our poor madame and the
+mathematical mistress did not come back next term.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Vinton gave us mathematics herself, and a splendid teacher she was,
+letting some daylight even into my thick head, which was not constructed
+for that kind of work, and her sister gave us French, and we really
+began to make progress. Some of the girls had done well before, those
+who sat near madame and talked to her, but most of us had not learnt
+much from her.</p>
+
+<p>Altogether it was with regret that I saw the end of my school-year
+drawing near; and I was very anxious to do well in the final exams.</p>
+
+<p>They were to be rather important, as we were to have a university
+examiner, and there were two prizes offered by people interested in the
+school, one for the best literature paper, and one for the best history.
+I <i>did</i> want a prize to take home.</p>
+
+<p>There was great excitement in the school, and we all meant to try our
+best. The Fourth and Fifth Forms were to have the same papers, so as to
+give the Fourth Form girls a chance for the prize, and Mabel Smith said
+she was determined to win that offered for literature.</p>
+
+<p>The exam. week began. Geology, arithmetic, Latin, French, German. We
+worked through them all conscientiously but without much enthusiasm.
+Then came the literature, you could hear the girls hold their breaths as
+the papers were given to them.</p>
+
+<p>I read the questions down the first time, and my head spun round so that
+I could not understand one.</p>
+
+<p>"This won't do," I said to myself, and set my teeth and clung to my desk
+till I steadied down. Then I read them through again.</p>
+
+<p>I found one question I could answer right away, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> by the time I had
+done that my brain was clear, and I knew the answers to every one.</p>
+
+<p>Alice Thompson was sitting next me, she was one of the pretty dark
+girls, and very idle.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the date of Paradise Lost?" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>I didn't know what to do. I wouldn't speak, and of course I knew that it
+was very mean of her to ask, but I was sure of the date, and I thought
+it would be mean of me not to tell her. Just then Miss Vinton walked up
+the room and glanced round at us.</p>
+
+<p>Alice bent over her work, writing diligently. Miss Vinton went down the
+room again, and Alice edged up to me, questioning me with her pretty
+dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>I hesitated, then I pushed the sheet I had just finished close to the
+edge of my desk so that she could read the date, which she did quickly
+enough. After that she looked over my papers freely whenever Miss Vinton
+wasn't looking.</p>
+
+<p>I was rather worried about it, but I didn't think she could win the
+prize, for I knew she hadn't worked at the subject at all, and if she
+didn't I thought it couldn't matter much to any one.</p>
+
+<p>I had answered all the questions a good while before the time was up, I
+thought we had been allowed too long, and was surprised to see Mabel
+Smith and one or two more scribbling away for dear life till the last
+minute. However, the time was up at last, and we all gave in our papers.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you get on, Margaret?" asked Miss Vinton, smiling kindly at me.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I answered all the questions right," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"That's good," she said.</p>
+
+<p>The history paper was given us next day, and it filled me with despair.
+The questions were so put that short answers were no use, and I was
+afraid to trust myself to write down my own ideas. However, after a bit
+the ideas began to come, and I quite enjoyed scribbling them down.</p>
+
+<p>Alice had been moved to another desk, so I was left in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> peace, for
+Joyce, who was a friend of mine, was next to me, working away quietly.</p>
+
+<p>I was getting on swimmingly, when all at once the bell rang, and I had
+only answered three quarters of the questions.</p>
+
+<p>I <i>was</i> vexed, for I could see one or two more I could have done.
+However, there was no help for it. The papers must be given up.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I had had a little more time," I said to Miss Vinton, as I gave
+in my work.</p>
+
+<p>"You had as much as the rest," she answered, rather sharply, and I went
+away feeling sad and snubbed.</p>
+
+<p>The exams. were over, and we were to know the result next day.</p>
+
+<p>I don't think any of us wanted that extra half hour in bed in the
+morning, which generally seemed so desirable; and we were all waiting in
+the cloak-room&mdash;a chattering throng, for discipline was relaxed on this
+occasion. When the school-bell rang, and we hurried in to take our
+places, Miss Vinton made us a speech, saying that the general results of
+the examinations had been very satisfactory. Our term's work had been on
+the whole good.</p>
+
+<p>We could hardly listen to these general remarks when we were longing for
+particulars. At last they came:</p>
+
+<p>Alice Thompson was awarded the literature prize. Her work was so very
+accurate, and her paper so well written.</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence of astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>Alice turned scarlet. I felt horrified to think what mischief I had done
+by being so weak-minded as to let her copy my work. Mabel Smith was
+white. But Miss Vinton went on calmly:</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel Smith comes next. Her paper was exceptionally well written, but
+there were a few blunders which placed it below Alice's."</p>
+
+<p>Then came Nelly, Joyce, and the rest of the Fifth Form, and one or two
+of the Fourth&mdash;and I began to get over the shock of Alice's success and
+to wonder what had happened to me. At last my name came with just half
+marks.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>My cheeks were burning. I was dreadfully disappointed and ashamed. Miss
+Vinton saw what I was feeling and stopped to explain that the examiner
+had not wanted mere bald answers of dates and names, but well-written
+essays, showing thought and intelligence. This was how I had failed,
+while Alice, cribbing my facts, had worked them out well, and come out
+first. I felt very sore about it, and almost forgot the injustice done
+to Mabel Smith.</p>
+
+<p>There was still the history prize, and a hush of excited expectation
+fell on us when Miss Vinton began again:</p>
+
+<p>"The history prize has been awarded to Nelly Gascoyne for a very good
+paper indeed. Margaret and Joyce have been bracketed second. Their
+papers were excellent, and only just behind Nelly's in merit."</p>
+
+<p>I gasped with surprise. I had left so many questions unanswered that I
+had had no hope of distinction in history.</p>
+
+<p>This was some consolation for my former disgrace&mdash;and then my mind went
+back to the question of what was to be done about the literature prize.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the business of the morning was concluded Mabel Smith touched
+my arm. She was still quite white, and her eyes were blazing.</p>
+
+<p>"I must speak to you," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Come to the cloak-room," I answered, "we can get our books after."</p>
+
+<p>"You <i>know</i> Alice Thompson cheated," she said, the moment we were alone.
+"I sat just behind, and I saw you push your papers over to her, and she
+leant over, and copied whatever she wanted."</p>
+
+<p>"I never dreamt she'd get the prize," I answered, "I only wanted to help
+her out of a hole."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she <i>did</i> get it&mdash;and it's my prize, and what are you going to do
+about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, I'm sure. Of course I oughtn't to have let her copy&mdash;but
+I thought it wouldn't hurt any one."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to tell Miss Vinton now. It's not fair I should be cheated
+out of the prize I've honestly won, and I'd worked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> so hard for it too.
+I can't think how I came to make those mistakes."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to peace you hadn't!"</p>
+
+<p>"But, anyhow, Alice could never have got it if she hadn't cheated, and
+you must tell Miss Vinton."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! that's too much," I cried. "It's for Alice to tell Miss Vinton, I
+can't. I'm willing to tell Alice she must."</p>
+
+<p>"And if she won't?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I don't quite see what's to be done."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll let her keep my prize?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you can tell Miss Vinton if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"It's you that ought to tell her. It was all your fault, you'd no right
+to help Alice to cheat."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that's true. But it makes it all the more impossible for me to
+tell on her."</p>
+
+<p>Just then Alice came in:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Margaret!" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>Then she saw Mabel and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to tell Miss Vinton you cheated?" said Mabel, going up to
+her with flaming eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Margaret</i>, did you tell?" said Alice.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw you!" said Mabel, "I sat just behind and saw you! You're not
+going to try to keep my prize, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, of course not," said Alice, "I never thought of getting the prize.
+I only wanted to write a decent paper and not have Miss Vinton pitching
+into me as usual. You're welcome to the prize, if that will do."</p>
+
+<p>Mabel said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid that won't quite do," I said. "It would be too difficult for
+Mabel to explain at home without telling on you. You'd much better tell
+on yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't," said Alice, "I'm as sorry as I can be, now, that I did
+it&mdash;but I can't face Miss Vinton."</p>
+
+<p>She looked ready to cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I shall have to confess too," I said. "It was partly my fault.
+Let us go together."</p>
+
+<p>"I daren't," said Alice.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>But I could see she was yielding.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along," I said, taking her arm. "It's the only way out. You know
+you won't keep Mabel's prize, and it's as bad to keep her honour and
+glory. This is the only way out. Let's get it over."</p>
+
+<p>She came then, but reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately we found Miss Vinton alone in her room, and between us we
+managed to stammer out our confession.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Vinton, I think, was not surprised. She had feared there was
+something not quite straight. But she was extremely severe with us both,
+as much with me as with Alice, and as it was to be my last interview
+with her I was heart-broken.</p>
+
+<p>However, I lingered a moment after Alice, and then turned back and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Please forgive me, you can't think how sorry I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Remember, Margaret," she replied, "that it is not enough to be
+honourable in your own conduct&mdash;you must as far as possible discourage
+anything dishonourable in other people. I know you would not cheat
+yourself, but if it is wrong to cheat, it is equally wrong to help some
+one else to cheat&mdash;don't you see? Will you remember this in future&mdash;in
+big things as well as in small? You must not only do right yourself.
+Your influence must be on the right side too. Certainly, I forgive you.
+You've been a good girl all this year, and I'm sorry to lose you."</p>
+
+<p>So I went away comforted.</p>
+
+<p>And I came home with never a prize to show. But I had what was better. I
+had acquired a real love of study which I have never lost. I don't know
+what became of Alice Thompson, I only hope that she never had to earn
+her living by teaching. Nelly Gascoyne went home to a jolly family of
+brothers and sisters and gave herself up to the pleasures and duties of
+home. Joyce became assistant mistress in a school, and Mabel followed up
+her successes at school by winning a scholarship at Cambridge a year
+later.</p>
+
+<p>And I&mdash;well, I've never come in first anywhere, but I'm fairly contented
+with a second place.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_SILVER_STAR" id="THE_SILVER_STAR"></a>THE SILVER STAR.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY NELLIE HOLDERNESS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Maysie Grey had set her heart on the Drawing Society's Silver Star. She
+kept her ambition to herself as a thing too audacious to be put into
+words. That she possessed talent, the school fully recognised. She was
+only thirteen, and by dint of steady perseverance was making almost
+daily progress. Her painting lessons were a source of unmixed pleasure
+to her, for hers was a nature that never yielded to discouragement, and
+never magnified difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>"You must aim at the Bronze Star this year," her science mistress had
+said to her, while helping her to fix the glass slides she was to paint
+from, under the microscope, "and next year you must go on to the
+Silver&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Look, how beautiful the colours are!" Maysie exclaimed in delight. The
+delicate, varying tints fascinated her. She set to work with enthusiasm,
+never having done anything of the kind before. "'Mycetozoa,' do you call
+them?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Be sure you spell it rightly."</p>
+
+<p>The next day, when the first of her three sheets was finished, Miss
+Elton came in to examine it. Though she said little, she was evidently
+more than satisfied. It was nearly tea-time, and Maysie spent the few
+minutes before preparation was over in tearing up some old drawings.
+After breakfast, on the following morning, before the bell rang for
+class, she went over to Ruth Allen's desk to ask her how to spell
+"Mycetozoa." Ruth was her particular chum, and the best English scholar
+in the form.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>"I've got something to show you, Maysie," she said, when she had
+furnished the desired information. She brought out a piece of paper as
+she spoke, and passed it on to her friend behind the cover of her open
+desk. It was a fragment of one of Maysie's zoological drawing-sheets,
+evidently picked up out of the waste-paper basket&mdash;a wasp with wings
+outspread, showing the three divisions of an insect's body. The head was
+roughly altered so as to form a caricature of a human face, and above
+was printed, in letters that might have done credit to Maysie herself:
+"Miss E. in a tantrum," and below: "How doth the little waxy wasp
+rejoice to snap and snarl!"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie did not share Ruth's unreasonable animosity towards Miss Elton,
+but she could not repress a smile at this specimen of school-girl wit.
+Just then the bell rang, and she went back to her own desk, while Ruth,
+letting the lid of hers slip down, was so startled by the noise it made
+in the sudden silence that she did not see a piece of paper flutter out
+on to the ground, and gently glide underneath the platform of the
+mistress's desk, which was just in front of her.</p>
+
+<p>That morning Maysie began her second sheet, and joined the others in the
+garden after dinner. Molly Brooks, another of her friends, came eagerly
+running up to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you come to botany?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been doing my exhibition work."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course! I suppose it's nearly finished?"</p>
+
+<p>"About half. It hasn't to be sent off till next week, so there's plenty
+of time."</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Ruth Allen linked her arm in Maysie's.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm in my third row," she began casually.</p>
+
+<p>"What, already?" asked Maysie.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, haven't you heard?" Molly chimed in.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's Miss Elton again!" went on Ruth. "We never can hit it off. You
+weren't at botany class this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"No, what happened?"</p>
+
+<p>Ruth shrugged her shoulders. Molly looked expressively at Maysie. Ruth
+seldom got through a botany class without an explosion.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>"I hate botany," said Ruth recklessly, "and I hate Miss Elton. I'm
+supposed to be in silence now, but as Miss Bennet came in and told us
+all to go out, I thought I'd better not risk another disobedience mark."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Elton, who had been stooping down over some flower-beds, in search
+of museum treasures, came up at this point. Her face was grave and
+white, and her manner very stern and quiet.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing out here, Ruth?" she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Bennet sent us all out; she said it was such a lovely day,"
+answered Ruth carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you can go and explain to Miss Bennet why I told you to remain in
+this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth looked at Miss Elton, and then looked away; she slowly withdrew her
+arm from Maysie's, and walked off without a word. At the door she came
+face to face with Miss Bennet, the headmistress.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going to, Ruth?" asked the latter.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Elton sent me in."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" There was grave rebuke in Miss Bennet's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I'm in silence."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand why you were out at all."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth made no attempt to defend herself.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better come to my room," continued Miss Bennet. "There is
+something here that needs explaining.... Now, what were you in silence
+for?" she continued, seating herself in her chair by the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"I got sent out of botany class."</p>
+
+<p>"And how many times have you been sent out of botany class?"</p>
+
+<p>Ruth did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it has come to this, Ruth," Miss Bennet went on gravely, "that a
+girl of your age&mdash;you are fourteen now, I believe&mdash;can no longer be
+allowed to go on setting an example of insolence and disobedience to the
+younger girls in the school. Now, remember, this is the last time. Let
+me have no more complaints about you, or it will be my unpleasant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> duty
+to write to your mother, and tell her that you cannot remain here."</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause. The colour had left Ruth's face, and she was staring
+moodily into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"You will apologise to Miss Elton," added Miss Bennet, rising, "and you
+will remain in silence at meals for the rest of the week. And try to
+make an effort over your botany. Your other work is good: you were top
+last week. Now, promise me that you will make an effort."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth, moved to penitence at the thought of her mother, promised to do
+her best. That afternoon she apologised to Miss Elton, and made a
+resolution to keep out of rows for the rest of the term. Maysie and she
+walked about in the garden as usual, and talked things over. Maysie
+looked grave when Ruth told her what Miss Bennet had said about sending
+her away.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Ruth!" she said, "you really must be careful! Why, if you got
+expelled, it would be almost as bad for me as if I were expelled myself.
+Miss Elton's awfully nice, if you only knew. I had such a lovely talk
+with her on Sunday, all about home, and drawing. And then she's so jolly
+at games, and she's never cross when you don't cheek her. And think how
+horrid it must be for her whenever she comes to botany class, always
+knowing that you're going to be dense! And you do do it on purpose
+sometimes, dear, you know you do."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth forced a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm going to be awfully good," she said. "You'll see!"</p>
+
+<p>It was Saturday the next day, and Maysie was just settling down to her
+drawing in the music-room, when Miss Elton appeared. Maysie looked up
+and smiled at her. It was no unusual thing for her science-mistress to
+come in and remark on her progress. But on this occasion no answering
+smile greeted her. Maysie was puzzled. Her inquiring grey eyes fell
+before Miss Elton's; she began to search her conscience. What had she
+done?</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>"I think it is a pity, Maysie," began Miss Elton, "that you put your
+talents to such an improfitable use."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke she laid before Maysie the paper that Ruth had exhibited to
+her in such triumph the day before. Maysie grew scarlet, and remained
+quite speechless. Her name up in the corner, the neat, even printing, so
+like her own, the altered diagram that Miss Elton had seen in its
+original form&mdash;they stared her in the face, condemning her beyond hope
+of appeal. She raised her head proudly, and tossed back the thick curly
+hair that hung over her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Where did it come from?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I picked it up from under the edge of my platform, but that is of no
+concern."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Miss Elton&mdash;&mdash;" stammered Maysie, growing suddenly confused.</p>
+
+<p>"You have no excuse," put in Miss Elton, and her voice was all the
+harder because of the disappointment that she felt. "This is a piece of
+your paper, is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie admitted that it was.</p>
+
+<p>"And your diagram?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; at least&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it, or is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie's voice was very low.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Silence ensued, a brief, awkward silence. It was at this moment that
+Maysie made up her mind. She would not clear herself at the expense of
+her chum! Ruth should not be expelled through her!</p>
+
+<p>Miss Elton believed <i>her</i> guilty; she would not undeceive her.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Elton waited with her eyes on Maysie's paintings.</p>
+
+<p>They were done as no other girl in the school would have done them, but
+the thought afforded her no satisfaction, though she had always
+prophesied great things of Maysie. Then she glanced at the child's
+downcast face.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry about this, Maysie," she said, with the faintest suspicion
+of reproach in her voice, "I thought we were better friends."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>A lump came into Maysie's throat, and the tears into her eyes. She
+looked at the microscope, at the tiny glass slides, at her unfinished
+sheet; but she had nothing to say.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," continued Miss Elton, "I shall have to show it to Miss
+Bennet. This comes, no doubt, of your friendship with Ruth. I have
+always said that she would do you no good."</p>
+
+<p>Maysie listened with a swelling heart. Supposing Ruth should be sent
+for, and hear the whole story? Miss Elton was at the door; she ran up to
+her in desperation.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Elton," she faltered, "don't say anything to the girls, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Elton made no promise. The petition made her think no better of
+Maysie.</p>
+
+<p>The Fourth Form girls soon discovered that Maysie was in trouble, but no
+one could get anything out of her. Ruth was forbidden to join her in
+recreation, but on Sunday evening she managed to get a few minutes' talk
+with her.</p>
+
+<p>"Do tell me what the row's about, Maysie," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing much," said Maysie. "Do let's talk about something else."</p>
+
+<p>"But I always thought you liked Miss Elton?"</p>
+
+<p>"So I do. Can't you get into a row with a mistress you like?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'd apologise, if I were you. She was very nice to me."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't, so it's no good." And Maysie sat silent, confronting this new
+difficulty with a sinking heart. For how could she apologise, she asked
+herself, for what she had never done?</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I think you might tell me," Ruth went on. "<i>I</i> told you about my
+row; and what's the good of being chums if we can't keep each other's
+secrets?"</p>
+
+<p>But Maysie only sighed impatiently, and took up her library book.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you'd hurry up and finish those paintings of yours,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> and come
+back properly to class," went on Ruth. "Aren't they nearly done?"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie grew white, and turned away her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to try this year," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I thought&mdash;&mdash;" began Ruth. "Oh, I see! What a shame!"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie choked down a sob. After a pause she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I shall have more chance of a Star next year."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd have got one this!" said Ruth indignantly. "How mean to punish
+you like that! And it's the only thing you care about!"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie smiled. "Oh, never mind, dear," she said. "Everything seems mean
+to us. You don't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"But if you apologised it would be all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay it might, but I don't think so. Besides, they've got to be
+sent in by Wednesday, and I should hardly have time to do another
+sheet."</p>
+
+<p>Things went on like this until Monday evening. Though there was only one
+day left, Maysie made no attempt to apologise. Miss Elton gave her every
+opportunity, for she, too, hoped that Miss Bennet might thus be induced
+to allow Maysie to finish her exhibition work, even at the last moment.</p>
+
+<p>Maysie went to bed early that night. Her head had been aching all day,
+and by the time tea was over she could hardly hold it up. Ruth was
+greatly concerned about her, and, as a last resource, determined to
+speak to Miss Bennet.</p>
+
+<p>Maysie soon got into bed, and, being alone in the dormitory, hid her
+face under the bed-clothes and sobbed. She was terribly homesick, poor
+child, and now, for the first time, she began to doubt whether she had
+done right after all; whether it would not have been wiser to have taken
+Miss Bennet into her confidence, and trusted to her to set things right.
+And then, there was that Silver Star! And a year was such a long time to
+have to wait. But, thinking of Ruth, she grew ashamed of herself, and
+dried her tears, and tried to go to sleep, though it was still quite
+light out of doors.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>Ruth, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor in front of Miss Bennet's
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>"It's about Maysie, Miss Bennet," she was saying. "I don't understand
+what she has done, but I'm sure there must be some reason for her not
+apologising."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Bennet made no remark.</p>
+
+<p>"She's so fond of Miss Elton, too. I don't see how she could have meant
+to be rude to her."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid there is not much doubt about that," was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me," went on Ruth nervously, "that there's some mystery
+about it. Maysie won't tell me anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Maysie has no reason to be proud of herself," replied Miss Bennet
+coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems so horrid her not going in for the exhibition, and she's so
+good at painting."</p>
+
+<p>"There are various ways of making use of one's talents," said Miss
+Bennet, rising. "Now this&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Ruth jumped to her feet, and stood gazing. There, on Miss Bennet's
+writing-table, lay the identical scrap of paper that she had shown to
+Maysie the Friday before. "Miss E. in a tantrum!" There, too, was
+Maysie's name in the corner. In a moment everything was clear.</p>
+
+<p>"That!" she exclaimed. "Maysie didn't do that!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Bennet looked at her doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I did it!" she went on. "Oh, if I'd only known! Why didn't some one
+tell me about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child," began Miss Bennet.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did it!" repeated Ruth passionately. "It's Maysie's drawing, but
+I altered it, I made up the words. Poor little Maysie! And she was so
+keen on trying for the exhibition! It's so horribly unfair, when I did
+it all the time!" She broke off with a sob, hardly knowing what she was
+saying.</p>
+
+<p>"But why&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know, and of course she wouldn't sneak about me&mdash;catch Maysie
+sneaking! I told her I should be expelled if I got into another row."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>Miss Bennet tried to calm her.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, dear child," she said gravely; "if Maysie has been punished for
+your fault, we must do our best to set things right at once. Tell me how
+it happened."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth explained as well as she could.</p>
+
+<p>"And now Maysie's gone to bed," she added regretfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will go up to her. You can go back to your class-room."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Bennet found Maysie asleep, with flushed cheeks, and eyelashes
+still wet with tears. She stooped down, and kissed her gently. Maysie
+opened her eyes with a sigh, and then sat up in bed. It had seemed
+almost as if her mother were bending over her. "I am going to scold you,
+Maysie," said Miss Bennet, but her smile belied her words.</p>
+
+<p>Maysie smiled faintly in answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Why have you allowed us to do you an injustice?"</p>
+
+<p>The child was overwrought, and a sudden dread seized hold of her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;what do you mean, Miss Bennet?" she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"Ruth has explained everything to me. It is a great pity this mistake
+should have been made&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie interrupted her.</p>
+
+<p>"It was before she got sent out of class, Miss Bennet," she said. "Oh!
+don't be angry with her! Don't send her away, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>In her earnestness she laid her hand on Miss Bennet's arm. Miss Bennet
+drew her to her, and kissed her again.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor child!" she said. "So that's what you've been worrying your little
+head about. No, I won't send her away, Miss Elton tells me that she has
+improved already, and I am sure she will forgive her when she knows
+everything."</p>
+
+<p>Maysie thanked her with tears in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, I have one other thing to say," Miss Bennet continued. "You
+must go to sleep at once, and wake up quite fresh and bright to-morrow
+morning, and you shall give up the whole day to your painting. What do
+you say to that?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>"How lovely!" exclaimed Maysie. "I shall get it done after all! Thank
+you very, very much, Miss Bennet. Oh, I am so happy!" And she put her
+arms round Miss Bennet's neck, and gave her an enthusiastic hug.</p>
+
+<p>Maysie worked hard at her "Mycetozoa" the next day, and finished her
+third sheet with complete success. Some weeks afterwards, Miss Bennet
+sent for her to her room.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to be able to tell you, Maysie," she said, "that you have
+gained the Drawing Society's Silver Star."</p>
+
+<p>Maysie drew a long breath; her heart was too full for words. The
+<i>Silver</i> Star! Could it be true?</p>
+
+<p>Ruth was one of the first to congratulate her.</p>
+
+<p>"I always said you'd get it, dear," she remarked as they walked round
+the garden together. "And I'm just as glad as you are about it. I
+haven't forgotten that it was through me you nearly lost the chance!"</p>
+
+<p>Maysie returned the pressure of Ruth's hand without answering. Was not
+the Silver Star the more to be prized for its association in thought
+with those hours of lonely perplexity that she had gone through for the
+sake of her friend?</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="UNCLE_TONE" id="UNCLE_TONE"></a>UNCLE TONE.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY KATE GODKIN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Mother darling! Is Uncle Tone really coming to see us at last? I heard
+you tell father something about it," I said to my mother as she sat by
+my couch, to which I had been tied for some weeks in consequence of a
+cycling accident.</p>
+
+<p>I had broken my leg, but had now so far recovered as to be able to move
+cautiously with a stick. It was the first illness that I could remember,
+and I was an only child, much loved, and I suppose much spoiled by the
+most indulgent of fathers and mothers. I therefore made the most of my
+opportunities and called freely on their resources for entertainment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, love, I am happy to say he is. He has not been here now since you
+were quite a little girl, eight years ago. You were just eight."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," I continued coaxingly, for I loved a story, "why are you so
+fond of him, he is only your step-brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Step-brother!" she exclaimed. "He has been more than a brother to me.
+He has been a father, far far more," she added sadly, "than my own
+father was. He is, you know, nearly twenty years older than I."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell me something about it?" I asked softly.</p>
+
+<p>It was twilight in July, and I lay at the open French window which led
+from the drawing-room to the lawn, and from which we had a view across
+the park, far out over the country, bounded by the twinkling lights of
+Southampton in the distance, for our house was situated on an elevation
+in one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> of the loveliest spots in the New Forest. Dinner was over and
+father was in the library clearing off some pressing work, as he had to
+leave home for a day or two. It seemed to me the very time for
+reminiscences.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I will," said my mother slowly and thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>She was a small, graceful woman, of about forty then, whose soft, dark
+hair was just beginning to be touched with grey, but her face was as
+fresh and dainty-looking as a girl's; a strong, sweet face that I loved
+to look at, and that now, that she is no longer with me, I love to
+remember.</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to know what he did for your mother, and how much you owe him
+indirectly. I should like him, too, to feel that he has his reward in
+you."</p>
+
+<p>My curiosity was excited, for I had never heard my mother speak like
+that before, and so I settled myself to listen, and to enjoy what she
+had to say.</p>
+
+<p>"My childhood was a very wretched one, Cora," she began. "For that
+reason I have spoken little of it to you, but endeavoured, assisted by
+your father, to make yours the very opposite to it as far as lay in my
+power, and that I could do so is due, I may say wholly, to your Uncle
+Tone, who taught me to be happy myself, and to endeavour to make others
+so."</p>
+
+<p>I slipped my hand into my dear mother's; she was the best, most loving,
+and wisest mother that ever lived.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother died when I was born," she continued, "and my father took his
+loss so to heart that he shut himself off from all society, grew silent
+and morose, and," she added after some hesitation, "became in time a
+drunkard."</p>
+
+<p>She brought these words out with such an effort, such difficulty, that
+the tears came to my eyes, and I whispered, "Don't go on, mother
+darling, if it hurts you." She continued, however, without appearing to
+notice my interruption.</p>
+
+<p>"I ran wild till I was twelve or thirteen years of age, I had no society
+but my father's and the servants', and I got no regular education. He
+would not send me to school, but the vicar's daughter came over for an
+hour or two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> every day to teach me what I could be induced to learn,
+which was little enough. I was hot-tempered, headstrong, self-willed,
+accustomed to fight for what I wanted, getting nothing by any other
+means, and doing without what I could not get in that way. No softening,
+no refining influence came into my life. My one pleasure even then was
+music. I had a passion for it. Miss Vincent, the vicar's daughter,
+taught me to play the piano, and I used to spend hours in the deserted
+drawing-room, playing what I knew, and picking out tunes by myself,
+while my father was shut up in his study. We had no near relation, no
+one who cared enough to take pity on an unruly, troublesome, little
+girl, with a drunken father. When I was between twelve and thirteen he
+died, and a godmother who lived in Scotland took charge of me, and sent
+me to a boarding-school, at which I spent the next four years. Schools
+were not then what they are now, particularly in Scotland, and between
+the time spent there and the holidays with Miss Clark, who was a stern,
+old maid and a confirmed invalid, my life was very dreary; I was
+becoming harder, and harder. I did not know in fact that I had any
+feelings; they were not cultivated amongst the people who had to do with
+me. She, also, died before I was seventeen, and then something happened
+which was to change my whole life. My step-brother, whom I had never
+seen, wrote to Miss McDougall, with whom I was at school, saying that my
+home would, henceforth, be with him. Your Uncle Tone was my father's son
+by his first marriage, and when his father married my mother, Tone went
+to live with his maternal grandfather, who, on his death, left him the
+beautiful place in Derbyshire to which I was to go. He lived there with
+an old aunt. This news affected me very little; I had never had a happy
+home, a real home; I did not know what that was, but I presumed I should
+go somewhere on leaving school.</p>
+
+<p>"My love of music had, in the meantime, increased. I had had a very good
+master, a real musician, and I had worked hard for him. To me it was a
+delight, but I never thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> nor cared that it could give pleasure to
+any one else. I used to shut myself up for hours in the holidays, out of
+hearing of my godmother, who seldom left her room, and play, and play,
+till my arms ached.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember well the day he came for me. I was ready, waiting, when the
+maid brought me the message that Sir Tone Wolsten was in the
+drawing-room. He was standing on the hearth-rug talking to Miss
+McDougall, and looked so tall to me. He is over six feet. I can see him
+now as he stood there, erect, broad-shouldered, with bright chestnut
+hair, clear, keen, dark blue eyes, and bronzed skin, a strong, kind,
+fearless face. He looked a thorough man, one to be trusted. He greeted
+me very kindly as his little sister, and took me home with him. Goldmead
+Park was the loveliest place I had ever seen. His Aunt Evangeline, whom
+I also called 'aunt,' was a frail, querulous old lady, whom he treated
+as his mother. He did not marry till after her death, five years later.
+I was planted in entirely new surroundings, with everything pleasant
+about me, everything that I could desire, or ought to have desired. Your
+uncle was kindness itself. He taught me to ride and to drive, supplied
+me with books, took the greatest interest in me; but the restrictions of
+every well-ordered home which would have been nothing to a properly
+trained girl were unendurable to me. I resisted from sheer perverseness
+and dislike of control. I do not mean to say that I was always
+ill-tempered; I was lively and merry enough, and your uncle used to
+tease me, and jest with me, which I enjoyed very much, and responded to
+willingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Some weeks had passed like this, my step-brother being most kind and
+indulgent. Frequently Aunt Evangeline had asked me to play to them in
+the evening after dinner, but I had refused obstinately. I liked to play
+to myself, but I had never been accustomed to do so before any one, and
+it never entered my head that it could give them pleasure, or that I was
+bound to do it out of politeness. At last she became more irritable and
+frequently made sarcastic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> remarks about the young people of the present
+day. This happened again one evening, and I answered sharply, not to say
+rudely.</p>
+
+<p>"The next morning I wandered through the woods belonging to the park,
+gathering violets, and had sat down, hot and tired, under a lovely
+chestnut, with my lap full of flowers which I was arranging and tying up
+in bunches in order to carry them home more easily. I heard footsteps,
+which I recognised by their briskness and firmness, and looking up I saw
+my brother approach, walking, as usual, erect, with his head well thrown
+back but with stern lines in his face which I had not seen there before.
+I looked up smiling, expecting his usual kind greeting, but instead of
+that he strode straight up and stopped in front of me.</p>
+
+<p>"'I was just thinking of you, Elfie,' he said, looking down at me, 'I
+have something to say to you which I can as well say here as any place
+else. I don't know why you should be so unamiable and discourteous to my
+aunt, as you are, and I cannot allow it to continue. I will say nothing
+of your manner to me. You receive here nothing but kindness. My great
+desire is to make you happy, but it does not seem as if I succeeded very
+well. At any rate, Aunt Evangeline must not be made uncomfortable, and I
+should be doing you a wrong if I allowed you to behave so rudely.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Why can't she leave me alone?' I exclaimed angrily, 'I don't want to
+play to her.'</p>
+
+<p>"'One does not leave little girls alone,' he answered calmly and
+sternly, 'and such behaviour from a young girl to an old lady is most
+unbecoming. It must come to an end, and the sooner the better!
+To-night,' he continued in a tone that made me look up at him, 'you will
+apologise to my aunt and <i>offer</i> to play.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I shall do nothing of the sort!' I exclaimed, turning crimson.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh yes, you will,' he answered quietly, 'I am accustomed to be obeyed,
+and I don't think my little sister will defy me.'</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>"And with that he strode away, leaving me in a perfect turmoil of angry
+feelings. I jumped up, scattering my lapful of violets, and started to
+walk in the opposite direction. At lunch we met, he ignored me
+completely, but I did not care, I felt hard and defiant.</p>
+
+<p>"After dinner, he conducted Aunt Evangeline to the drawing-room as
+usual, and as soon as she was seated he turned and looked at me, and
+waited. I made no move, though I felt my courage, which had never before
+forsaken me, ebb very low. He waited a few moments, and then said in a
+tone, which in spite of all my efforts I could not resist:</p>
+
+<p>"'Now, Elfie!'</p>
+
+<p>"I rose slowly, with his eyes fixed on me all the time, crossed the room
+to Aunt Evangeline, and stopped in front of her. 'I am sorry, Aunt
+Evangeline, that I have been so rude to you,' I said in a low, trembling
+voice. 'If you wish, I will play to you now.'</p>
+
+<p>"I felt as if it were not I myself, but some one outside me that was
+moving and speaking for me. I wished not to do it, but I was compelled
+by my brother's force of will, as much as if I had been hypnotised.</p>
+
+<p>"'Do, dear, do!' the old lady exclaimed kindly and eagerly. 'I am so
+fond of music, we both are, and we rarely have any one here who can
+play.'</p>
+
+<p>"I chose a piece in which I could give vent to the stormy feelings
+raging within me. When I had finished I rose from the piano.</p>
+
+<p>"'Thank you, dear,' she exclaimed. 'That was a treat!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Such a treat,' remarked my brother, 'that it is hard to understand the
+discourtesy and want of amiability that have deprived us of it so long.
+Play something else, Elfie!' This was said quietly, but I was as
+powerless to resist as if it were the sternest command.</p>
+
+<p>"So I played three or four more pieces at his request, and then getting
+up, took my work and sat down in silence at some distance from them,
+while they 'talked music' In about half an hour he turned to me again
+and asked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> me to play a particular piece which they had been discussing.
+'Perhaps she is tired,' suggested Aunt Evangeline kindly.</p>
+
+<p>"'It does not tire her to play for hours by herself,' was the quiet
+rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p>"I went to the piano in a mutinous, half desperate mood, thinking I
+would go on till they were sick of it, so I played on and on. Presently
+I forgot them, got lost in my music, and as usual my angry feelings died
+away. I had no idea how long I had been playing when I became conscious
+of a feeling of emotion I had never experienced before. I felt my heart
+swell and my face flush, and with a sudden sob I burst into tears. I was
+more startled than they were, for I had never, as far as I could
+remember, shed a tear except with anger, and this was certainly not
+anger. I started up and was about to leave the room hastily, when Tone
+said in the same calm tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Stay here, Elfie, you have no need to be ashamed of those tears.'</p>
+
+<p>"At home I should have rushed from the room, banging the door after me:
+I could give myself no account of my reason for going and sitting down
+quietly instead; I did so, nevertheless, though I could not suppress my
+sobs for some time. At last I became, outwardly at least, calm.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Evangeline always retired to her room about nine o'clock, and at
+first I did the same, but then my brother detained me for a game of
+chess which he taught me to play, and to talk about some books that he
+had given me to read, so that we usually sat together till ten o'clock.
+That night, however, I had no mind to sit alone with him for an hour, so
+I turned to say good-night as aunt was leaving the room. He held the
+door open for her, bade her 'good-night,' and then closed it as
+deliberately as if he had not seen my outstretched hand. He then turned
+to me, and took it, cold and trembling as it was, in his own firm, warm
+grasp, but with no intention of letting me go. Holding it, he looked
+searchingly, but with a kind smile, into my face.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>"'Is this revenge or punishment, Elfie?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'I don't know what you mean,' I exclaimed in confusion.</p>
+
+<p>"'My game of chess?'</p>
+
+<p>"'You won't want to play with me to-night, and I can't play either,' I
+said, pressing my disengaged hand to my hot forehead. 'My stupidity
+would try your patience more than ever.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You must not say that,' he replied quietly, 'you are not stupid, and
+as I have never felt the slightest shade of impatience, I cannot have
+shown any. You play quite well enough to give me a very good game, but I
+daresay you cannot to-night. One wants a cool, clear head for chess. Let
+us talk instead.' So saying he led me to the chair aunt had just left,
+put me in it, and drew his own chair nearer.</p>
+
+<p>"'I don't want you to go to your room feeling lonely and upset,' he
+said, 'I should like to see your peace of mind restored first. I should
+like you to feel some satisfaction from the victory you have won over
+your self-will to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>"'The victory, such as it is, is yours!' I blurted out, looking away.</p>
+
+<p>"'You say that,' he replied very gently, 'as if you thought it a poor
+thing for a man to bully a young girl. Don't forget, Elfie, that I am
+nearly old enough to be your father, that, in fact, I stand in that
+position to you&mdash;I am your only relative and protector&mdash;that <i>I</i> am
+right and <i>you</i> are wrong, and above all that it is for your own sake
+that I do it. Poor child! you have had far too little home life and home
+influence. I want you to be happy here, but the greatest source of
+happiness lies in ourselves. What Milton says is very true, "The mind is
+its own place, and in itself can make a hell of heaven, a heaven of
+hell." You cannot be happy and make those around you happy, as long as
+you are the slave of your will. A strong will is one of the most
+valuable gifts we can have, but it must be our servant, not our master,
+or it will prove a curse instead of a blessing. It must be under our
+control, or it will force us to do things of which our good sense, good
+feeling, and our consciences all dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>approve. We must be able to use it
+<i>against</i> ourselves if need be. You are nearly grown up, Elfie, and
+still such an undisciplined child! What you will not learn with me and
+let me teach you in the next two or three years, the world will teach
+you very harshly later. We none of us can go through life, least of all
+a woman, doing what we like, knocking against every one as we go along.
+We get very hard knocks back, and they hurt. We miss, too, the best
+happiness that life can give. It contains none to equal that of making
+other people happy. As we treat them, they treat us.</p>
+
+<p>"'It is not in the least your fault, little one,' he added very kindly,
+'you have had no chance of being different. You have, I am afraid,
+received very little kindness, but help me to change all this. Don't
+think for a moment that I want to subdue your will to mine, that I want
+forced obedience to my wishes&mdash;that is the last thing I desire. I want
+to place <i>your</i> will under <i>your</i> control. I forced you to do to-night
+what I wanted, to make a beginning, to show you it was possible, to let
+you feel the pleasure of being agreeable, to stir some gentler, softer
+feelings in you. They came, much to your surprise, though not to mine.
+We all have them, and it is not good to crush them.'</p>
+
+<p>"While he was talking, a strange, subdued feeling came over me, such as
+I had never known before. He spoke gently and impressively, in a deep,
+soft tone peculiar to him when very much in earnest. I felt I wanted to
+be what he wished me to be, to do what he wanted, and this sensation was
+so new to me, that I could not at all understand it. I felt impelled to
+tell him, but I was ashamed. I had never in my life been sorry for
+anything I had done, still less acknowledged a fault. It was a new and
+strange experience, I felt like a dumb animal as I raised my eyes
+piteously to his.</p>
+
+<p>"'What is it, little one? You want to say something, surely you are not
+afraid?' he asked gently.</p>
+
+<p>"'Forgive me, Tone,' I gasped, as two big tears rolled down my cheeks,
+'I am sorry.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I am glad to hear you say you are sorry,' he said, taking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> my hand,
+'but between us there is no question of forgiveness. I have nothing to
+pardon, I am not angry, I want to help you.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I never felt like this before,' I muttered, 'I don't understand it,
+but I will try to do what you want.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You feel like this, Elfie, because you know that I am right, and that
+I only want what is good for you. I want you to be happy, to open your
+heart to the kindness we wish to show you, and to encourage feelings of
+kindness in yourself towards other people. When you feel hard, and
+cross, and disobliging, try to remember what I have been saying, and let
+me help. Even if I have to appear stern sometimes, don't misunderstand
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>"He then talked about my mother, my home, told me something of my father
+as <i>he</i> had known him, until he actually succeeded in making me feel
+peaceful and happy.</p>
+
+<p>"From that day he never for a moment lost sight of the object he had in
+view. He had me with him as much as possible, for long walks, rides and
+drives. With infinite patience but unvarying firmness, he helped me
+along, recognising every effort I made, appreciating my difficulties,
+never putting an unnecessary restriction on me. So he moulded and formed
+my character, lavishing kindness and affection on me in which, I must
+say, Aunt Evangeline was not far behind, awakening all that was best and
+noblest in my nature, never allowing simple submission of my will to
+his.</p>
+
+<p>"On my wedding-day, as we were bidding each other 'Good-bye!' he said:</p>
+
+<p>"'You will be happy now, little sister, I know it. You have striven
+nobly and will have your reward.'</p>
+
+<p>"'The reward should be yours, Tone, not mine,' I answered, as I put my
+arms round his neck and kissed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you wonder now, Cora, that I love him so dearly, though he is my
+step-brother?" my mother asked as she concluded, "and that I should like
+him to see that I have endeavoured to do for you what he did for me?"</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="A_NIGHT_ON_THE_ROAD" id="A_NIGHT_ON_THE_ROAD"></a>A NIGHT ON THE ROAD.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY MARGARET WATSON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The summer holidays had begun, and I was to travel home alone from
+Paddington to Upperton.</p>
+
+<p>I was quite old enough to travel alone, for I was fourteen, but it so
+happened that I had never taken this journey by myself before. There was
+only one change, and at Upperton the pony-cart would be waiting for me.
+It was all quite simple, and I rather rejoiced in my independence as my
+cab drew up under the archway at Paddington. But there my difficulties
+began.</p>
+
+<p>There was a raging, roaring crowd going off for holidays too. The cabman
+demanded double the legal fare. It was a quarter of an hour before I
+could get a porter for my luggage, and then I had almost to fight my way
+to the ticket-office. When at last I had got my ticket the train was due
+out.</p>
+
+<p>"Jump in anywhere," said the porter; "I'll see that your luggage goes."</p>
+
+<p>The carriages were crammed full. I raced down the platform till I saw
+room for one, and then tore open the door, an sank into my seat as the
+train steamed out of the station.</p>
+
+<p>I looked round for sympathy at my narrow escape, but my
+fellow-travellers were evidently one party. They looked at me coldly, as
+at an unwelcome intruder, and drew more closely together, discussing the
+day's doings; so I curled up in my corner and gave myself up to
+anticipations of the holidays.</p>
+
+<p>These were so engrossing that I took no count of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> stations we passed
+through. I was just picturing to myself the delights of a long ride on
+the pony, when, to my amazement the stopping of the train was followed
+by the loud exhortation:</p>
+
+<p>"All change here!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, where are we?" I asked, looking up bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>"At Lowford," replied one of my fellow-passengers.</p>
+
+<p>But they gathered up their parcels, and swept out of the carriage
+without a question as to my destination.</p>
+
+<p>I seized on a porter.</p>
+
+<p>"How did I get here?" I asked him; "I was going to Upperton. What has
+happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Upperton, was you?" said the man. "Why, you must ha' got into the slip
+carriage for Lowford. I s'pose 'twas a smartish crowd at Paddin'ton."</p>
+
+<p>"It was," I replied, "and I hadn't time to ask if I was right. I suppose
+my luggage has gone on. But what can I do now? How far is it to
+Upperton? Is there another train?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, no, there ain't another train, not to-night. It's a matter of
+fifteen mile to Upperton by the road."</p>
+
+<p>"Which way is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you couldn't miss it, that goes straight on pretty nigh all the
+way. You've only got to follow the telegraph-postes till you comes to
+the "Leather Bottle," and then you turns to the right."</p>
+
+<p>"I know my way from there."</p>
+
+<p>"But you could never walk all that way to-night. You'd better by half
+stay at the hotel, and go on by rail in the morning."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll wire to them at home to drive along the road and meet me, and I'll
+walk on till they do."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's fine, and I dessay they'll meet you more'n half way, but
+'tis a lonely road this time o' night."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not afraid," said I, and walked off briskly.</p>
+
+<p>I bought a couple of buns in a baker's shop, and went on to the
+telegraph office&mdash;only to be told it was just after eight o'clock, and
+they could send no message that night.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>I turned out my pockets, but all the coins I had were a sixpenny and a
+threepenny piece&mdash;not enough to pay for a night's lodging, I was sure.
+The cabman's extortion, and a half-crown I had given to the porter at
+Paddington in my haste, had reduced me to this.</p>
+
+<p>What should I do? I was not long deciding to walk on. Perhaps they would
+guess what had happened at home and send to meet me. The spice of
+adventure appealed to me. If I had gone back to the porter he would
+probably have taken me to the hotel, and they would have trusted me. But
+I did not think of that&mdash;I imagine I did not want to think of it. I had
+been used to country roads all my life, and it was a perfect evening in
+late July.</p>
+
+<p>My way lay straight into the heart of the setting sun as I took the
+road. In a clear sky, all pale yellow and pink and green, the sun was
+disappearing behind the line of beech-covered hills which lay between me
+and home, but behind me the moon&mdash;as yet only like a tiny round white
+cloud&mdash;was rising.</p>
+
+<p>I felt like dancing along the road at first. The sense of freedom was
+intoxicating. The scent of wild honeysuckle and cluster roses came from
+the hedgerows. I ate my buns as I walked along; I had made three and a
+half miles by the milestones in the first hour, and enjoyed every step
+of the way.</p>
+
+<p>"If they don't meet me," I thought, "how astonished they will be when I
+walk in! It will be something to brag of for many a day, to have walked
+fifteen miles after eight o'clock at night."</p>
+
+<p>The daylight had faded, but the moon was so bright and clear that the
+shadows of my solitary figure and the "telegraph-postes" were as black
+and sharp as at noonday. Bats were flitting about up and down. A white
+owl flew silently across the road. Rabbits were playing in the fields in
+the silver light. It was all very beautiful, but a little lonely and
+eerie. I hadn't passed a house for a mile.</p>
+
+<p>Then I heard wheels behind me.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>If it were some kind person who would give me a lift!</p>
+
+<p>But I heard a lash used cruelly, and a rough, hoarse voice swearing at
+the horse.</p>
+
+<p>I hurried on, but of course the cart overtook me in a minute.</p>
+
+<p>The man pulled up. He leaned down out of the cart to look at me, and I
+saw his coarse, flushed face and watery eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Want a lift, my dear?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you," I answered, "I much prefer walking."</p>
+
+<p>"Too late for a gal like you to be out," he said; "you jump up and drive
+along o' me."</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you," I repeated, walking on as fast as I could.</p>
+
+<p>He whipped his horse on to keep pace with me; then, leaning on the
+dashboard, he made as though he would climb out of the cart. But just at
+that moment a big bird rustled out of the hedge&mdash;the horse sprang aside,
+precipitated his master into the bottom of the cart, and went off at a
+gallop. Very thankful I was to see them disappear into the distance!</p>
+
+<p>I was shaking so with fear that I had to sit down on a stone heap for a
+while.</p>
+
+<p>I pulled myself together and started on again, but all joy was gone from
+the adventure&mdash;there seemed really to be too much adventure about it.</p>
+
+<p>Three miles, four miles more I walked; but they did not go as the first
+miles had gone. It was eleven o'clock, and I was only halfway; at this
+rate I could not be home before two in the morning. If they had been
+coming to meet me they would have done so before this. They must have
+given me up for the night, every one would be in bed and asleep, and to
+wake them up in the small hours would frighten them more than my not
+coming home had done.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, the long road over the hill and through the woods was before
+me. The thought of the moonlit, silent woods, with their weird shadows,
+was too much for me; I looked about for a place of refuge for the night.</p>
+
+<p>I soon found one.</p>
+
+<p>A splendid rick of hay in a field close to the road had been cut.
+Halfway up it there was a wide, broad ledge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>&mdash;just the place for a bed.
+I did not take long to reach it, and, pulling some loose hay over myself
+in case it grew chilly at dawn, I said my prayers&mdash;they were real
+prayers that night&mdash;and was soon asleep in my soft, fragrant bed.</p>
+
+<p>The sun woke me, shining hot on my nest. I looked at my watch, it was
+six o'clock. Thrushes and blackbirds were singing their hearts out,
+swallows were darting by, high in air a lark was hovering right above my
+head, with quivering wings, singing his morning hymn of praise. I knelt,
+up there on the hayrick, and let my thanks go with his to heaven's gate.</p>
+
+<p>I had never felt such a keen sense of gratitude as I did that summer
+morning: the dangers of the night all past and over, and a beautiful new
+day given to me, and only seven miles and a half between me and home.</p>
+
+<p>'Tis true that I was very hungry, but I started on my way and soon came
+to a cottage whose mistress was up giving her husband his breakfast. She
+very willingly gave me as much bread-and-butter as I could eat, and a
+cup of tea. I did not quarrel with the thickness of the bread or the
+quality of the butter, or even with the milkless tea&mdash;I had the poor
+man's sauce to flavour them.</p>
+
+<p>When she heard my story, the woman overwhelmed me with pity and regrets
+that I had not reached her house overnight and slept there. But I did
+not regret it. I would not have given up my "night on the road" now it
+was over for worlds.</p>
+
+<p>She was grateful for the sixpence I gave her&mdash;having learnt wisdom, I
+reserved the threepenny bit&mdash;and I went on.</p>
+
+<p>The air was delicious, with a spring and exhilaration in it which
+belongs to the early morning hours. The sunlight played hide-and-seek in
+the woods. Patches of purple heath alternated with lilac scabious and
+pale hare-bells. The brake ferns were yellow-tipped here and there&mdash;a
+forewarning of autumn&mdash;and in one little nook I found a bed of luscious
+wild strawberries. My heart danced with my feet, and I wondered if the
+tramps ever felt as I did, in the summer mornings, after sleeping out
+under a hedge.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>I reached home by nine o'clock, and then there was a hubbub, and a
+calling out of, "Here's Muriel!" "Why, Muriel, where have you sprung
+from?" "What happened last night? We were so frightened, but they told
+us at the station that it was an awful crowd at Paddington, and you must
+have missed the train, and of course we thought you would go back to
+Miss Black's, but you ought to have wired."</p>
+
+<p>It was ever so long before I could make them believe that I had been out
+all night, and slept in a hayrick; and then mother was almost angry with
+me, and father told me if ever I found myself in such a predicament
+again I was to go to a respectable hotel and persuade them to take me
+in. But he said he would take very good care that no child of his should
+ever be in such a predicament again. But I could not be sorry, the
+beginning and the end were so beautiful.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_MISSING_LETTER" id="THE_MISSING_LETTER"></a>THE MISSING LETTER.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY JENNIE CHAPPELL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The Briars was a very old-fashioned house, standing in its own grounds,
+about ten miles from Smokeytown. It was much dilapidated, for Miss Clare
+the owner and occupier, had not the necessary means for repairing it,
+and as she had lived there from her birth&mdash;a period of nearly sixty
+years&mdash;did not like to have the old place pulled down. Not more than
+half the rooms were habitable, and in one of them&mdash;-the former
+dining-room&mdash;there sat, one January afternoon, Miss Clare, with her
+young nephew and niece. They were having tea, and the firelight danced
+cosily on the worn, once handsome furniture, and the portly metal
+teapot, which replaced the silver one, long since parted with for half
+its value in current coin. The only modern article in the room,
+excepting the aforesaid nephew and niece, was a pretty, though
+inexpensive, pianoforte, which stood under a black-looking portrait of a
+severe-visaged lady with her waist just under her arms, and a general
+resemblance, as irreverent Aubrey said, to a yard and a half of pump
+water.</p>
+
+<p>Just now Miss Clare was consuming toast in silence, and Kate was
+wondering if there was any way of making bows that had been washed twice
+and turned three times look like new; while Aubrey's handsome head was
+bent over a book, for he was addicted to replenishing mind and body at
+the same time. Suddenly Miss Clare exclaimed, "Dear me; it is fifty
+years to-day since Marjorie Westford died!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>Kate glanced up at the pump-water lady, with the laconic remark,
+"Fancy!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's very likely that on such an interesting anniversary the fair Miss
+Marjorie may revisit her former haunts," said Aubrey, raising a pair of
+glorious dark eyes with a mischievous smile; "so if you hear an
+unearthly bumping and squealing in the small hours, you may know who it
+is."</p>
+
+<p>"The idea of a ghost 'bumping and squealing,'" laughed Kate. "And Miss
+Marjorie, too! The orthodox groan and glide would be more like her
+style." Then her mind wandered to a story connected with that lady,
+which had given rise to much speculation on the part of the young
+Clares. Half a century ago there lived at the Briars a family consisting
+of a brother and two sisters; the former a gay young spendthrift of
+twenty-five; the girls, Anna, aged twenty, and Lucy, the present Miss
+Clare, nine years old respectively. With them resided a maiden sister of
+their mother's, Marjorie Westford, an eccentric person, whose property
+at her death reverted to a distant relative. A short time before she
+died she divided her few trinkets and personal possessions between the
+three young people, bequeathing to Anna, in addition, a sealed letter,
+to be read on her twenty-first birthday. The girl hid the packet away
+lest she should be tempted to read it before the appointed time; but ere
+that arrived she was drowned by the upsetting of a boat, and never since
+had the concealed letter been found, although every likely place had
+been searched for it. Lucy never married, and George had but one son,
+whose wife died soon after the birth of Kate, and in less than a year he
+married again, this time to a beautiful young heiress, subsequently
+mother to Aubrey, who was thus rather more than two years Kate's junior.</p>
+
+<p>The younger George Clare, a spendthrift like his father, speedily
+squandered his wife's fortune, and died, leaving her with barely
+sufficient to keep herself and little son from want. Yet such was Mrs.
+Clare's undying love for the husband who had treated her so badly, that
+in their greatest straits she refused to part with a locket containing
+his likeness and hers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> which was valuable by reason of the diamonds and
+sapphires with which it was encrusted. This locket was the only thing
+she had to leave her little Aubrey when she died, and he, a lovely boy
+of nine summers, went with his half-sister (who had a small sum of money
+settled on her by her maternal grandfather) to reside with their
+great-aunt, Miss Clare.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the quietness at the tea-table was disturbed by a loud single
+knock at the front door, and Aubrey bounced out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"A note from Mr. Green," he said, returning. "I wonder what's up now? No
+good, I'm afraid."</p>
+
+<p>This foreboding was only too fully realised. The agent for Miss Clare's
+little property at Smokeytown wrote to tell her that during a recent
+gale one of her best houses had been so much injured by the falling of a
+factory chimney, that the repairs would cost quite &pound;30 before it could
+again be habitable. This was a dire misfortune. So closely was their
+income cut, and so carefully apportioned to meet the household expenses,
+that, after fullest consideration, Miss Clare could only see her way
+clear for getting together about &pound;15 towards meeting this unexpected
+demand, and three very anxious faces bent around the table in
+discussion.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Aubrey slipped away and ran upstairs to his own room. He then
+lit a candle, and pulling a box from under an old horse-hair chair,
+unlocked it, taking out a small morocco case, which, when opened,
+revealed something that sparkled and scintillated even in the feeble
+rays of the cheap "composite." It was the precious locket, placed in his
+hands by his dying mother four years before. Inside were two exquisite
+miniatures on ivory&mdash;the one a handsome, careless-looking man, the
+other, on which the boy's tender gaze was now fixed, was the portrait of
+a lady, with just such pure, bright features, and sweet, dark-grey eyes
+as Aubrey himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, my own darling," he murmured, pressing the picture to his lips,
+"how <i>can</i> I part with you?" And dropping his head on the hard, prickly
+cushion, by which he knelt, he cried in a way that would considerably
+have astonished the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> youths with whom he had, a few hours earlier,
+engaged in a vigorous snowball fight. They only knew a bright, mirthful
+Aubrey Clare, the cleverest lad in his class, and the "jolliest fellow
+out;" none but Kate had any idea of the deepest affections of his boyish
+heart, and she truly sympathised with her half-brother in his love for
+the only portrait and souvenir remaining of the gentle creature who had
+so well supplied a mother's place for her. Something in Aubrey's face
+when he left the room had told her of his thoughts, so presently she
+followed him and tapped at the half-open door. Obtaining no answer, she
+entered, and saw the boy kneeling before the old chair with his head
+bent. The open case lay beside him, and Kate easily guessed what it was
+held so tightly in his clenched hand. She stooped beside him, and
+stroked his wavy hair caressingly as she said, "It can't be that,
+Aubrey."</p>
+
+<p>"It must," replied a muffled voice from the chair cushion.</p>
+
+<p>"It <i>sha'n't</i> be," said Kate firmly. "I've thought of a plan&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But Aubrey sprang to his feet. "See here, Katie," he said excitedly, but
+with quivering voice; "I've been making an idol of this locket. It ought
+to have gone before, when aunt lost so much money by those Joneses; but
+you both humoured my selfishness."</p>
+
+<p>"Being fond of anything, especially anything like that, isn't making an
+idol of it, I'm sure," said Katie.</p>
+
+<p>"It is if it prevents you doing what you ought, I tell you, Katie; it's
+downright dishonest of me to keep this," he continued, with burning
+cheeks, "living as I am upon charity, and aunt so poor. I see it plainly
+now. Mr. Wallis offered to buy it of me last summer, and if he likes he
+shall have it now."</p>
+
+<p>"He is gone to Rillford," said Kate, in whose mind an idea was beginning
+to hatch.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll be back on Saturday, and then I'll ask him. It won't be <i>really</i>
+losing mamma's likeness, you know," he added, with a pathetic attempt at
+his own bright smile. "Whenever I shut my eyes I can see her face, just
+as she looked when&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> but he was stopped by a queer fit of coughing
+and rubbed the curl of his hair that always tumbled over his forehead;
+so Katie couldn't see his face, but she knew what the sacrifice must
+cost him, and, girl-like, exalted him to a pedestal of heroism
+immediately; but when she would have bestowed an enthusiastic embrace,
+he slipped away from her and ran downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Left alone, Kate stood long at the uncurtained window, gazing at the
+unearthlike beauty of the moonlit snow. When at last she turned away,
+the afore mentioned idea was fully fledged and strong.</p>
+
+<p>She found her hero with his nose ungracefully tucked into an uncut
+magazine, and his chair tilted at a perilous angle with the floor, just
+like any ordinary boy, and felt a tiny bit disappointed. Presently she
+turned to the piano, which was to her a companion and never failing
+delight. She had a taste for music, which Miss Clare had, as far as was
+practicable, cultivated; and although Kate had not received much
+instruction, she played with a sweetness and expression that quite made
+up for any lack of brilliant execution. This evening her touch was very
+tender, and the tunes she played were sad.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-bye Katie lingered, talking earnestly with her aunt long after
+Aubrey had gone to bed; and when at last she wished her good-night, she
+added, anxiously, "Then I really may, auntie; you are sure you don't
+mind?"</p>
+
+<p>And Miss Clare said, "I give you full permission to do what you like,
+dear. If you love Aubrey well enough to make so great a sacrifice for
+him, I hope he will appreciate your generosity as he ought; but whether
+he does or not, you will surely not lose your reward. I am more grieved
+than I can tell you to know that it is necessary."</p>
+
+<p>Two days later, Aubrey was just going to tear a piece off the
+<i>Smokeytown Standard</i> to do up a screw of ultramarine, when his eye was
+arrested by an advertisement which he read two or three times before he
+could believe the evidence of his senses; it was this,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"To be sold immediately, a pretty walnut-wood cottage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> pianoforte, in
+excellent condition, and with all the latest improvements. Price 15<i>l.</i>
+Apply at 'The Briars,' London Road."</p>
+
+<p>He rushed upstairs to Kate, who, with her head adorned by a check
+duster, was busy sweeping (for they had no servant), and burst in upon
+her with, "What on earth are you going to sell it for?"</p>
+
+<p>There was no need to inquire what "it" was, and Kate, without pausing in
+her occupation, replied, "To help make up the money aunt wants."</p>
+
+<p>"But if Mr. Wallis buys the locket;" then the truth flashed upon him,
+and he broke off suddenly, "Oh, Katie, you're <i>never</i> going to&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sell the piano because I don't want the locket to go," finished Katie,
+with a smile, that in spite of the check duster made her look quite
+angelic.</p>
+
+<p>Aubrey flew at her, and hugging her, broom and all, exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how <i>could</i> you! You are too good; I didn't half deserve it. Was
+there ever such a darling sister before?" and a great deal more in the
+same strain, as he showered kisses upon her till he took away her
+breath, one moment declaring that she shouldn't do it and he wouldn't
+have it, and the next assuring her that he could never thank her enough,
+and never forget it as long as he lived. And Katie was as happy as he
+was.</p>
+
+<p>It was rather a damper, however, when that day passed, and the next, and
+no one came to look even at the bargain. Aubrey said that if no
+purchaser appeared before the following Wednesday, he should certainly
+go to Mr. Wallis about the locket; and it really seemed as if Katie's
+sacrifice was not to be made after all.</p>
+
+<p>Tuesday afternoon came, still nobody had been in answer to the
+advertisement. It was a pouring wet day, and Aubrey's holiday hung
+heavily on his hands. He had read every book he could get at, painted
+two illuminations, constructed several "patent" articles for Kate, which
+would have been great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> successes, but for sundry "ifs," and abandoned as
+hopeless the task of teaching C&aelig;sar, Miss Clare's asthmatic old dog, to
+stand upon his hind legs, and was now gazing drearily out on the soaked
+garden, almost wishing the vacation over. Suddenly he turned to his
+sister, who was holding a skein of worsted for her aunt to wind,
+exclaiming, "Katie, I've struck a bright!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she asked, understanding that he had had an inspiration of
+some sort. "An apparatus for getting at nuts without cracking them; or a
+chest-protector for C&aelig;sar to wear in damp weather?"</p>
+
+<p>"Neither; I'm going to rummage in the old bookcase upstairs, and see if
+I can come across anything fit to read, or an adventure." And not being
+in the habit of letting the grass grow under his feet (if vegetation was
+ever known to develop in such unfavourable circumstances), he bounded
+away; while Miss Clare observed, rather anxiously, "When that boy goes
+adventure-seeking, it generally ends in a catastrophe; but I don't think
+he can do much mischief up there."</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes afterwards, Katie went to see how Aubrey was getting on, and
+found him doing nothing worse than polishing the covers of some very
+dirty old books with one of his best pocket-handkerchiefs. When she
+remonstrated with him, he recommended her to get a proper, ordained
+duster, and undertake that part of the programme herself. So presently
+she was quite busy, for Aubrey tossed the books out much faster than she
+could dust and examine them. Very discoloured, mouldy-smelling old books
+they were, of a remarkably uninteresting character generally, which
+perhaps accounted for their long abandonment to the dust and damp of
+that unused apartment. When the case was emptied, and the contents piled
+upon the floor, Aubrey said, "Now lend us a hand to pull the old thing
+out, and see what's behind."</p>
+
+<p>"Spiders," replied Katie promptly, edging back.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have the satisfaction of a gentleman of the first spider that
+looks at you," said Aubrey, reassuringly. "Come, catch hold!"</p>
+
+<p>So Katie "caught hold;" and between them they managed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> to drag the
+cumbrous piece of furniture sufficiently far out of the recess in which
+it stood for the boy to slip behind. The half-high wainscoting had in
+one place dissolved partnership with the wall; and obeying an impulse
+for which he could never account, Aubrey dived behind, fishing out,
+among several odd leaves and dilapidated covers, a small hymn-book bound
+in red leather. Kate took it to the window to examine, for the light was
+fading fast. On the fly-leaf was written in childish, curly-tailed
+letters, "Anna Clare; July 1815," followed by the exquisite poetical
+stanza commencing,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The grass is green, the rose is red;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think of me when I am dead,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>which she read aloud to her brother. A minute afterwards, as she turned
+the brown-spotted leaves, there fell out a packet, a letter
+superscribed, "Miss Anna Clare; to be read on her twenty-first birthday,
+and when quite alone." Katie gasped, "Oh, look!" and dropped the paper
+as if it burned her fingers. Aubrey sprang forward, prepared to slay a
+giant spider, but when his eyes fell upon the writing which had so
+startled his sister, he too seemed petrified. They gazed fixedly into
+each other's eyes for a minute, then Aubrey said emphatically,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It's <i>that</i>!" And both rushed precipitately downstairs, exclaiming,
+"Auntie, auntie, we've found it!"</p>
+
+<p>Now Miss Clare was just partaking of that popular refreshment "forty
+winks," and was some time before she could understand what had so
+greatly excited her young relations; but when at last it dawned upon
+her, she hastily brought out her spectacles, and lit the lamp, while
+every moment seemed an hour to the impatient children. When would she
+leave off turning the yellow packet in her fingers, and poring over the
+faded writing outside? At last the seal is broken, and two pairs of
+eager eyes narrowly watch Miss Clare's face as she scans the contents.</p>
+
+<p>"It <i>is</i> the long-lost letter!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Where
+did you find it?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>Both quickly explained, adding, "Do read it, auntie; what does Miss
+Marjorie say?"</p>
+
+<p>So in a trembling voice Miss Clare read the words penned by a dying hand
+fifty years before,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My Dearest Anna</span>,&mdash;I feel that I have but a short time
+longer to live, and but one thing disturbs my peace. It is
+the presentiment that sooner or later the thoughtless
+extravagance of your brother George will bring you all into
+trouble. It is little I can do to avert this calamity, but
+years of economy have enabled me to save 280<i>l.</i> (which is
+concealed beneath the floor in my room, under the third
+plank from the south window, about ten inches from the
+wall). I wish you, niece Anna, to hold this money in trust,
+as a profound secret, and to be used <i>only</i> in case of an
+emergency such as I have hinted. In the event of none such
+taking place before your sister is of age, you are then to
+divide the money, equally between yourself, George and
+Lucy, to use as you each may please. Hoping that I have
+made my purpose clear, and that my ever trustworthy Anna
+will faithfully carry out my wishes, I pray that the
+blessing of God may rest richly on my nephew and nieces,
+and bid you, dearest girl, farewell.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right; margin-bottom: 0.1em;">"<span class="smcap">Marjorie Westford.</span></p>
+
+<p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0.1em;">"January 2nd, 1825."</p></div>
+
+<p>Miss Clare's eyes were dim when she finished these words, sounding, as
+they did, like a voice from the grave, while Kate and Aubrey sat in
+spellbound silence. The boy was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think it is still there?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is no reason why it should not be," replied Miss Clare; "indeed
+it seems that this legacy, so strangely hidden for half a century, and
+as strangely brought to light, is to be the means by which our Father
+will bring us out of our present difficulties."</p>
+
+<p>"Get a light, Katie, and let's look for the treasure; that will be the
+best way of making sure that our adventure isn't the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> result of a
+mince-pie supper," suggested Aubrey, producing his tool-box.</p>
+
+<p>So they all proceeded to the room, now seldom entered, where Marjorie
+Westford breathed her last. It was almost empty, and the spot indicated
+in the letter was soon determined upon. Aubrey knelt down on the floor,
+and commenced, in a most unsystematic way, his task of raising the
+board; while Katie, trembling with excitement, dropped grease spots on
+his head from her tilted candlestick.</p>
+
+<p>Aubrey's small tools were wholly inadequate to their task, and many were
+the cuts and bruises his inexperienced hands received before he at
+length succeeded in prising the stubborn plank.</p>
+
+<p>There lay the mahogany box, which, with some trouble, owing to its
+weight, they succeeded in bringing to the surface. It fastened by a
+simple catch, and was filled with golden guineas.</p>
+
+<p>When Kate bade Aubrey good-night upon the stairs, he detained her a
+minute to murmur with a soft light in his dusky eyes,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so very, very glad your sacrifice isn't to be made, darling, but
+the will is just the same as the deed. I shall love you for it as long
+as you live; and better still," he added, with deepening colour and
+lowered voice, "God knows, and will love you too."</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_COLONEL" id="THE_COLONEL"></a>"THE COLONEL."</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY MARION DICKEN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Dick was only thirteen years of age, but he was in love, and in love too
+with Captain Treves's wife, who, in his eyes, was spick-span perfection.
+In their turn Mrs. Treves's two little boys, aged six and five
+respectively, were in love with Dick, who appeared to them to be the
+model of all that a schoolboy ought to be.</p>
+
+<p>It was in church on Easter Sunday that Dick first realised his passion,
+and then&mdash;as he glanced from Mrs. Treves to the captain's stalwart
+form&mdash;the hopelessness of it! He remarked, afterwards, to his brother
+Ted, a lieutenant in Treves's regiment, that Mrs. Treves looked
+"ripping" in grey. But Ted was busy with his own thoughts, in which, if
+the truth be told, the sermon figured as little as in those of his
+younger brother.</p>
+
+<p>Dick was on very friendly terms with the Treves and was rather surprised
+to find that the captain and his wife treated him more like a little boy
+than a "chap of thirteen&mdash;in fact, almost fourteen," as he put it to
+himself. He used to take Jack and Roy out on the river and to the baths,
+where he taught them both to swim. To use Ted's own expression to a
+brother-sub, "Dick was making a thorough nursemaid and tutor of himself
+to those kids of the captain's." He <i>was</i> teaching them certainly,
+unconsciously, but steadily, a great many things.</p>
+
+<p>Jack no longer cried when he blistered his small paws trying to scull,
+and when Roy thought of Dick, or the "colonel," as they called him, he
+left off making grimaces at, and teasing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> his baby sister, because Dick
+had answered carelessly when Jack once offered to fight him, "No thanks,
+old boy, I only hit a chap my own size." Roy recognised the difference
+between tormenting a girl and fighting a boy.</p>
+
+<p>About three weeks after Dick went back to school for the summer term,
+both the little Treves's fell ill, and Jack cried incessantly for "the
+colonel." Yet when kind old Colonel Duke came to see him one afternoon,
+and brought him some grapes, the child turned fretfully away and still
+cried, "'Colonel'; I want the 'colonel'!"</p>
+
+<p>"But, Jack dear, this is the colonel," remonstrated his mother, gently
+smoothing the crumpled pillow.</p>
+
+<p>But Jack still wailed fretfully, and would not be comforted.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Duke happened to remark on the incident at mess that evening,
+and Ted Lloyd knitted his brows, as if trying to solve some mental
+mystery. The result of his cogitations was an early visit to Mrs. Treves
+next day.</p>
+
+<p>The children were worse. Roy was, indeed, dangerously ill; and neither
+his father nor mother could persuade Jack to take his medicine.</p>
+
+<p>"We cannot think whom he means by 'colonel'," added the poor lady
+despairingly.</p>
+
+<p>"That's just what I've come about, Mrs. Treves; they used to call my
+young brother that at Easter."</p>
+
+<p>"You are sure, Mr. Lloyd?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite. I heard them myself more than once. I'll trot round and see the
+Mater, and we will wire for him if it will do any good."</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon Dick received a telegram which sent him off full speed to
+his housemaster for the necessary permission to go home.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mater ill?" he asked breathlessly, as he bundled out of the train on
+to Ted, who bore the onrush heroically.</p>
+
+<p>"No, she's quite well, only Treves's kids are ill."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" queried Dick rather indignantly, as he thought of the
+cricket-match on the morrow, in which he had hoped to take part.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>"Well, you see, Dick, they're seriously ill, and they can't make the
+little 'un take his physic."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I can't take it for him, can I? queried Dick, as they started
+home.</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody wants you to, you little duffer. But the kids used to call you
+'colonel,' and now he keeps crying for you. Perhaps if you order him to
+take the physic, he will&mdash;that's all."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" briefly responded Dick.</p>
+
+<p>He was sorry to hear that his whilom chums, the "captain" and
+"lieutenant," were ill. But weren't kids always having something or
+other, and would he always be sent for to dose them? "Rot!"</p>
+
+<p>However, these thoughts abruptly left him, when, directly after tea, he
+went to the captain's and saw Mrs. Treves' pale and anxious face, and
+instead, his old allegiance, but deeper and truer, returned.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Dick," she said kindly in reply to his awkward tender of
+sympathy. And then they went upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>By Jack's bed a glass of medicine was standing. A nurse was turning
+Roy's pillow, and Captain Treves stood by her, gnawing his long
+moustache.</p>
+
+<p>Just then Jack's fretful wail sounded through the room for "'Colonel!'
+Daddy, Jack wants the 'colonel'!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm here, old man," said Dick, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
+"Drink this at once," he added, taking up the glass, as he remembered
+his brother's suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>But Jack had clutched Dick's hand and now lay back sleepily.</p>
+
+<p>Dick felt desperate. He glanced round. Captain and Mrs. Treves and the
+nurse were gathered round the other little white bed. Was Roy worse?
+With what he felt to be an unmanly lump in his throat, he leaned over
+the boy again.</p>
+
+<p>"Jack, I say, Jack" (hurriedly), "if you drink this you shall be a
+captain."</p>
+
+<p>Jack heard, and when Dick raised him up, he drained the glass.</p>
+
+<p>"But Roy, Dick, he's a captain?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>"Roy shall be promoted too," replied Dick.</p>
+
+<p>And just then the captain left the other bed and came over to Jack. Dick
+could see Mrs. Treves bending over Roy, and the nurse leaving the room.
+He looked up and saw that there were actually tears in the captain's
+eyes. He had never seen a soldier cry before, and guessed what had
+happened. Roy had indeed been promoted. He would never again "play
+soldiers" with Jack or Dick.</p>
+
+<p>Jack was now sleeping quietly, and the doctor, who came in an hour
+later, pronounced him out of danger.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>"Goodbye, my boy. We thought you'd like Roy's watch as you were fond of
+him," said the captain next day; and then Mrs. Treves not only shook
+hands, but stooped and kissed him.</p>
+
+<p>Dick flushed, muttered some incoherent thanks, and went off to the
+station.</p>
+
+<p>Dick reached school in time for the cricket-match, after all; but, fond
+as he was of cricket, he absented himself from the ground that
+afternoon, and spent the time printing off some photos of "two kids," as
+a chum rather scornfully remarked.</p>
+
+<p>One of those "kids" is now a lieutenant in the regiment of which Dick is
+a captain, and, indeed, in a fair way to become a colonel&mdash;for the
+second time in his life.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="NETTIE" id="NETTIE"></a>NETTIE.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALFRED G. SAYERS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Nettie was a bright, fair girl of fifteen years of age, tall and
+graceful in movement and form, and resolute in character beyond her
+years. She was standing on the departure platform of the L. &amp; N.&nbsp;W.
+Railway at Euston Square, watching the egress of the Manchester express,
+or rather that part of it which disclosed a head, an arm, and a cap, all
+moving in frantic and eccentric evolutions.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, her brother, two years her senior, was on his way back to school
+for his last term, full of vague, if big, ideas of what he was going to
+be when, school days over, he should "put away childish things." "Most
+of our fellows," he had said loftily, as he stood beside his sister on
+the platform a few moments before, "go into the Army or Navy and become
+admirals or generals or something of that sort." And then he had hinted
+with less definiteness that his own career would probably combine the
+advantages of all the professions though he only followed one. But Tom
+soon dropped from these sublime heights to more mundane considerations,
+and his last words concerned a new cricket bat which Nettie was to
+"screw out of the gov'nor" for him, a new pup which she was to bring up
+by hand under his special directions, and correspondence, which on her
+part at least, was to be regular, and not too much occupied with details
+about "the kids."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie sighed as she turned her steps homewards, and her handkerchief
+was damped by at least one drop of distilled emotion that bedewed the
+rose upon her cheek. Poor Nettie, she too was conscious of a destiny,
+and had bewildered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> thoughts of what she was going to be! She had opened
+her heart on this subject to her brother Tom during the holidays; but
+she had not received much encouragement, and at the present moment she
+was inclined to murmur at the reflection that the world was made for
+boys, and after all she was only a girl.</p>
+
+<p>"What will you be?" Tom had said in answer to her question during one of
+their confidential chats. "You? why, you&mdash;well, you will stay with the
+mater, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but girls do all sorts of things nowadays, Tom," she had replied.
+"Some are doctors, some are authors, some are&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Blue-stockings," responded the ungallant Tom. "Don't be absurd, Net,"
+he added patronisingly; "you'll stay with the pater and mater, and some
+day you will marry some fellow, or you can keep house for me, and then,
+when I am not with my ship or my regiment, of course I shall be with
+you."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Nettie! She had formed an idea that the possibilities of life ought
+to include something more heroic for her than keeping house for her
+brother, and she had determined that she would not sink herself in the
+hum-drum of uneventful existence without some effort to avoid it; and so
+it happened that that same evening, after doing her duty by the baby pup
+and Tom's new cricket bat, she startled her father and mother by the
+somewhat abrupt and altogether unexpected question,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Father, what am I going to be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Be?" repeated her father, drawing her on to his knee, "why, be my good
+little daughter as you always have been, Nettie. Are you tired of that,
+dear?"</p>
+
+<p>But no, Nettie was not tired of her father's love, and she had no idea
+of being less affectionate because she wanted to be more wise and
+useful, and so she returned her father's caresses with interest, and
+treated her mother in the same way, so that there might be no jealousy;
+and then, sitting down in the armchair with the air of one commanding
+attention, harked back to the all-absorbing topic. "You know, father,
+there's Minnie Roberts, isn't there?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>"What if there is?" replied her father.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know she's going to the University, don't you, dad?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I didn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she is. Then she'll be a doctor, or professor, or something.
+That's what I should like to be."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Anderson looked from his wife to his daughter with somewhat of
+surprise on his face. He was a just man; and he and his wife had but
+recently discussed the plans (including personal sacrifices) by which
+Master Tom's advancement was to be secured. Really, that anything
+particular needed to be done for Nettie had hardly occurred to him. He
+had imagined her going on at the High School for another year, say, and
+then settling down as mother's companion. His desire not to be harsh,
+coupled with his unreadiness, led Mr. Anderson to temporise. "Well,
+little girl," he said, "you plod on, and we'll have a talk about it."
+Nettie was in a triumphant mood. She had expected repulse, to be
+reminded of the terrible expense Tom was, and was to be, and she felt
+the battle already won. Doubtless the fact that Nettie was heartened was
+a great deal toward the success that was unexpectedly to dazzle her. She
+worked hard at school, and yet so buoyant was her spirit, that she found
+it easy to neglect none of her customary duties at home. She helped dust
+the drawing-room, and ran to little Dorothy in her troubles as of yore;
+and Mrs. Anderson came to remark more and more often to her husband,
+what a treat it would be when Nettie came home for good. "You can see
+she has forgotten every word about the idea of a profession," said that
+lady; "and I'm very glad. She's the light of the house." Forgotten! Oh
+no! Far from it! as they were soon to realise. The end of the term
+came&mdash;Tom was expected home on the morrow, Saturday. In the afternoon
+Nettie walked in from school, her face ablaze with excitement. For a
+moment she could say nothing; so that her mother dropped her work and
+wondered if Nettie had picked up a thousand-pound note. Then came the
+announcement&mdash;"Mother! I've won a Scholarship!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>"You have?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother dear, I'm the <span class="smcap">Queen Victoria Scholar</span>!" Nettie stood up and
+bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"And what does that do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I can go on studying for my profession for three years, and it
+won't cost father a penny!"</p>
+
+<p>"What profession, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, mother, what. But I want to be a doctor."</p>
+
+<p>"A what!"</p>
+
+<p>"A doctor, mother. Minnie Roberts is studying for a doctor; and I think
+it's splendid."</p>
+
+<p>"What! cut people open with a knife!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother, if it's going to do them good."</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>However, Nettie knew very little about the medical profession; she only
+knew that Minnie Roberts went about just in the independent way that a
+man does, and was studying hard, and seemed very lively and witty. So
+detailed discussion was postponed to congratulation, inquiry, and
+surmise. "What <i>will</i> Tom say?" Nettie found herself continually asking
+herself, and herself quite unable to answer herself. What Tom did
+actually say we must detail in its proper place, which comes when Mr.
+Anderson and Nettie go to meet him at the station. They were both rather
+excited, for Mr. Anderson had, to tell the truth, felt somewhat guilty
+towards his little daughter over the question of the profession. While
+he had flattered himself that the idea was a passing fancy, she had
+cherished his words of encouragement, and had made easier the
+realisation of her dream by her steady improvement of the opportunity at
+hand, viz., her school work.</p>
+
+<p>Tom kissed Nettie and shook hands with his father, and then it was that
+Nettie said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Tom, I've won a Scholarship!"</p>
+
+<p>And then it was, standing beside his luggage, that Tom replied,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Sennacherib!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>Though not strictly to the point, no other word or phrase could have
+shown those who knew Tom how much he was moved. Nettie knew. She was
+rather sorry Tom had to be told at all, for he had been quite
+unsuccessful this term, a good deal to his father's disappointment; and
+Nettie was sure he must feel the contrast of her own success rather
+keenly. They talked of other things on the way home, and directly Tom
+had kissed his mother and Dorothy and Joe, Nettie said, "Now shall we go
+and get the pup? I can tell you he's a beauty!"</p>
+
+<p>"What a brick you are, Net, to think of it!" said Tom. "Yes; let's go."</p>
+
+<p>These holidays were very delightful to Nettie and Tom; that young man
+permitted, even encouraged, terms of perfect equality. He forgot to
+patronise or disparage his sister or her sex. Perhaps his sister's
+success and his own lack of it had made him feel a bit modest. Nettie
+had explained her achievement both to herself and others by the fact
+that she had been so happy. And she was right. Some people talk as
+though a discipline of pain were necessary for all people in order to
+develop the best in them. That is not so. There are certain temperaments
+found in natures naturally fine, to whom a discipline of pleasure is
+best, especially in youth, and happily God often sends pleasure to
+these: we mean the pleasure of success; the pleasure of realising
+cherished plans; the pleasure of health and strength to meet every duty
+of life cheerfully. And now Nettie began to build castles in the air for
+Tom. Tom would go to Sandhurst; he would pass well; he would have a
+commission in a crack regiment. And Tom's repentance of some former
+disparagement of the sex was shown in such remarks as "that Beauchamp
+major&mdash;you know, the fellow I told you a good deal about."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, a fine fellow!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know, Net&mdash;I begin to think he's a beastly idiot. That
+fellow was bragging to me the other day that he bullied his sisters into
+fagging for him when he was at home. I think that's enough for me." And
+so holidays again came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> to an end, to Nettie's secret delight. She hated
+parting with Tom, but she longed to be back at her work.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>Six years passed away and Nettie's career had been one of unbroken
+success. She had proceeded to Newnham and had come out splendidly in her
+examinations. Only one thing clouded her sky. Tom had not been
+successful. In spite of all that coaching could do, he had been plucked
+at Sandhurst, and the doctor had prohibited further study for the
+present. Nettie wrote to him constantly, making light of his failure,
+and assuring him of ultimate success. And now she was to make her start
+in her chosen profession. Before long she would be able to write herself
+"Nettie Anderson, M.D." and she was then to go into practice with her
+elder friend, Minnie Roberts. Little paragraphs had even appeared in
+some of the papers that "for the first time in the history of medicine
+in England, two lady graduates in medicine are to practise in
+partnership." Miss Roberts was already settled in one of the Bloomsbury
+squares, and had a constantly increasing circle of clients.</p>
+
+<p>One Saturday afternoon in October the inaugural banquet was held. Nettie
+had a flat of her own in the house, and here the feast was spread. Mr.
+and Mrs. Anderson, Tom, and the two doctors formed the company. They
+were all so proud of Nettie that they almost forgot Tom's lack of
+success. There was what is understood as a high time. Who so gay and
+bright as Nettie! Who so gentle and courteous as Tom! (I am afraid a
+discipline of failure is best for some of us!) How the time flew! How
+soon mother and Nettie had to go to Nettie's room for the mother to don
+her bonnet and get back home in decent time!</p>
+
+<p>"But you'll be marrying, you know, some day, Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! time will show, mother dear," was Nettie's answer; and then she
+added, "but if I do it will be from choice and not necessity."</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_MAGIC_CABINET" id="THE_MAGIC_CABINET"></a>THE MAGIC CABINET.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALBERT E. HOOPER.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"A castle built of granite.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With towers grim and tall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A castle built of rainbows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With sunbeams over all:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I pass the one, in ruins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mount a golden stair,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the newest and the truest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the oldest and the boldest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the fairest and the rarest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is my castle in the air."&mdash;M.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3 class="section"><a name="THE_MAGIC_CABINET_I" id="THE_MAGIC_CABINET_I"></a>I.<br />
+ON TWO SIDES OF THE CABINET.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Plenty of nourishment, remember, Mr. Goodman," said the doctor; "you
+must really see that your wife carries out my instructions. And you, my
+dear lady, mustn't trouble about want of appetite. The appetite will
+come all in good time, if you do what I tell you. Good-afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>Little Grace Goodman gazed after the retreating figure of the doctor;
+and when the door closed behind him and her father, she turned to look
+at her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Goodman looked very pale and ill, and as she lay back in her
+cushioned-chair she tried to wipe away a tear unseen. But Grace's sight
+was very sharp, and she ran across the room and threw her arms
+impetuously round her mother's neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother, are you very miserable?" she asked, while her own lip
+quivered pitifully.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, my darling, not 'very miserable,'" answered her mother, kissing
+the little girl tenderly. "Hush! don't cry, my love, or you will make
+father unhappy. Here he comes."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>Mr. Goodman re-entered the room looking very thoughtful; but as he came
+and sat down beside his wife, he smiled and said cheerfully, "You will
+soon be well now, the doctor says. The worst is over, and you only need
+strengthening."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Goodman smiled sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"He little knows how impossible it is to carry out his orders," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Not impossible. We shall be able to manage it, I think."</p>
+
+<p>A sudden light of hope sprang into the sick lady's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Is the book taken at last, then?" she asked eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"The book? No, indeed. The publishers all refuse to have anything to do
+with it. It is a risky business, you see, to bring out such an expensive
+book, and I can't say that I'm surprised at their refusal."</p>
+
+<p>"How are we to get the money, then?" asked his wife. "We have barely
+enough for our everyday wants, and we cannot spare anything for extras."</p>
+
+<p>"We must sell something."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Goodman glanced round the shabbily furnished room, and then looked
+back at her husband questioningly.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Jacob's Indian cabinet must go," said he.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Goodman looked quickly towards a large black piece of furniture
+which stood in a dusky corner of the room, and after a moment's pause,
+she said: "I don't like to part with it at all. It may be very foolish
+and superstitious of me, but I always feel that we should be unwise to
+forget Uncle Jacob's advice. You know what he said about it in his
+will."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say that I remember much about it," answered her husband. "I
+have a dim remembrance that he said something that sounded rather
+heathenish about the cabinet bringing good luck to its owners. I didn't
+pay much attention to it at the time, because I don't believe in
+anything of the sort. And besides, your Uncle Jacob was a very peculiar
+old gentleman; one never knew what to make of his odd fancies and
+whims."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you are quite right; he was a strange old man; but somehow I never
+shared the belief of most people that his intellect was weak. I think he
+had gathered some out-of-the-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>way notions during his life in India; but
+his mind always seemed clear enough on practical questions."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what was it he said about the Indian cabinet?"</p>
+
+<p>"He said that he left it to us because we had no need for any of his
+money&mdash;we had plenty of our own then!&mdash;that the old Magic Cabinet, as he
+called it, had once been the property of a rich Rajah, who had received
+it from the hands of a wise Buddhist priest; that there was something
+talismanic about it, which gave it the power of averting misfortune from
+its owners; and that it would be a great mistake ever to part with it."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Goodman laughed uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what Uncle Jacob would say now," said he. "When he amused
+himself by writing all that fanciful rubbish in his will, he little
+thought that we should be reduced to such want. It is true, he never
+believed that my book would be worth anything; but he could not foresee
+the failure of the bank and the loss of all our money. I scarcely think,
+if he were alive now, that he would advise me to keep the cabinet and
+allow you to go without the nourishment the doctor orders."</p>
+
+<p>The invalid sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose there is no help for it," she answered. "The old cabinet must
+go; for I am useless without strength, and I only make the struggle
+harder for you."</p>
+
+<p>All the time her father and mother had been talking, little Grace had
+been looking from one to the other with eager, wide-open eyes; and now
+she cried: "Oh, mother! must the dear old black cabinet be taken away?
+And sha'n't we ever see it again!"</p>
+
+<p>Her father drew her between his knees and smoothed back her fluffy
+golden hair as he said gently: "I know how you will miss it, dear; you
+have had such splendid games and make-believes with it, haven't you? But
+you will be glad to give it up to make mother well, I know."</p>
+
+<p>"Will mother be quite well when the old cabinet is gone away?" asked
+Grace. "Will her face be bright and pink like it used to be? And will
+she go out of doors again?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, darling, I hope so. I am going out now to ask a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> man to come and
+fetch away the cabinet, and while I am gone I want mother to try and get
+'forty winks,' so you must be very quiet."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I will," answered Grace quickly. "I must go and say 'good-bye' to
+the cabinet."</p>
+
+<p>Saying this, the little girl ran to the corner of the room in which the
+cabinet stood; and Mr. Goodman, bending down, kissed his wife's pale
+face very tenderly, whispered a word of hope and comfort in her ear, and
+then left the room; and a moment later the sound of the house-door told
+that he had gone out.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the twilight grew dimmer and dimmer in the little room; and as
+the dusky shadows, which had been lurking in the corners, began to creep
+out across the floor and walls and ceiling, Mrs. Goodman fell into a
+peaceful sleep.</p>
+
+<p>But little Grace sat quite still on the floor, gazing at the Indian
+cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>It was a large and handsome piece of furniture made of ebony, which
+looked beautifully black and shiny; and the folding doors in front were
+carved in a wonderful fashion, and inlaid with cunning silver tracery.
+The carvings on these doors had always been Grace's special delight;
+they had served as her picture books and toys since her earliest
+remembrance, and she knew every line of them by heart. All the birds,
+and beasts, and curly snakes were old friends; but Grace paid little
+attention to any of them just now. All her thoughts were given to the
+central piece of carving, half of which was on each of the doors of the
+cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>This centre piece was carved into the form of an Indian temple, with
+cupolas and towers of raised work; and in front of the temple door there
+sat the figure of a solemn looking Indian priest.</p>
+
+<p>Of all Grace's toy friends this priest was the oldest and dearest, and
+as she looked at him now, the tears began to gather in her eyes at the
+thought of parting with him. And no wonder. He was really a most
+delightful little old man. His long beard was made of hair-like silver
+wire, the whites of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> his eyes were little specks of inlaid ivory, and in
+his hand he balanced a small bar of solid gold, which did duty as the
+latch of the cabinet doors.</p>
+
+<p>Grace gazed at the priest long and lovingly, and at last, shuffling a
+little nearer to the cabinet, she whispered: "I don't like saying
+'good-bye' a bit. I wish you needn't go away. Don't you think you might
+stay after all if you liked, and help mother to get well in some other
+way? You belong to a magic cabinet, so I suppose you are a magic priest,
+and can do all sorts of wonderful things if you choose."</p>
+
+<p>The priest nodded gravely.</p>
+
+<p>Then, of course, Grace gave a sudden jump, and started away from the
+cabinet with a rather frightened look on her face.</p>
+
+<p>It was one thing to talk to this little carved wooden figure in play,
+and make believe that he was a real live magic priest, but it was quite
+another to find him nodding at her.</p>
+
+<p>She felt very puzzled, but seeing that the figure was sitting quite
+still in front of the temple, she drew close up to the cabinet again,
+and presently she whispered: "Did you nod at me just now?"</p>
+
+<p>The ebony priest bowed his head almost to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>There could be no doubt about it this time. He was a magic priest after
+all. Grace did not feel frightened any more. A joyful hope began to
+swell in her heart, and she said, "Oh, I'm so glad! You won't go away
+and leave us, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the figure sat motionless, and then the head gave a most
+decided shake, wagging the silver beard from side to side.</p>
+
+<p>"What a dear old darling you are," exclaimed Grace in delight. "But you
+know how ill poor mother is, and how much she wants nice things to make
+her strong. You will have to get them for her, if you stay, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Again the priest nodded gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't a very easy thing to do," said Grace, holding up a warning
+finger. "My father is ever such a clever man, and he can't always manage
+it. Why, he has written a great big book,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> all on long sheets of
+paper&mdash;piles, and <i>piles</i>, and <span class="smcap">piles</span> of them, and even that hasn't done
+it! I shouldn't think you could write a book."</p>
+
+<p>The figure of the priest sat perfectly still, and as she talked Grace
+thought that the expression on his face grew more solemn than ever, and
+even a little cross, so she hastened to say, "Don't be offended, please.
+I didn't mean to be rude. I know you must be very magic indeed, or you
+couldn't nod your head so beautifully. But do you really think you can
+get mother everything the doctor has ordered?"</p>
+
+<p>A fourth time the priest nodded, and this time he did it more
+emphatically than ever.</p>
+
+<p>Little Grace clapped her hands softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! <i>do</i> begin at once, there's a dear," she whispered coaxingly.</p>
+
+<p>Very slowly, as if his joints were stiff, the priest raised his arms,
+and allowed the golden bar in his hands to revolve in a half-circle; and
+then the Indian temple split right down the middle, and the two doors of
+the Magic Cabinet swung wide open.</p>
+
+<p>Grace lost sight of the little priest, and the temple, and all the other
+wonderful carvings as the folding doors rolled back on their hinges; and
+she gazed into the cabinet, wondering what would happen next. She had
+often seen the inside of the cabinet, so, beautiful as it was, it was
+not new to her, and she felt a little disappointed. Half of the space
+was filled up by tiny drawers and cupboards, all covered with thin
+sheets of mother-of-pearl, glowing with soft and delicate tints of pink
+and blue; but the other half was quite unoccupied, and so highly
+polished was the ebony, that the open space looked to Grace like a
+square-cut cave of shiny black marble.</p>
+
+<p>For some moments the little girl sat quite still, gazing into the depths
+of the cabinet; but as nothing happened she got upon her feet, and,
+drawing a step nearer, put her head and half her body inside the open
+space. Everything looked very dark in there, and she felt more
+disappointed than ever; but, just as she was about to draw out her head
+again, she noticed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> a shining speck in one of the top corners at the
+back of the cabinet. This was not the first time she had seen it, and
+she had always determined to look at it closer; but the cabinet stood on
+carved feet, like the claws of an alligator, and Grace's outstretched
+hand could not quite reach the back. But now the cabinet might be going
+away she felt that she must delay no longer, so she quickly crossed the
+floor and fetched the highest hassock from under the table, and planted
+it in front of the dark opening. Getting upon this, she climbed right
+into the open space, and a moment later she was sitting on the ebony
+floor of the Magic Cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>It was rather a tight squeeze; but Grace did not mind that in the least:
+she drew her feet close in under her, and laughed with glee. Now she
+could see the shining speck plainly. It was only a tiny bright spot in
+the centre of a tarnished metal knob. The knob was an ugly,
+uninteresting-looking thing, and it was fixed so high up in the dark
+corner that she would never have noticed it if it had not been for the
+bright speck in the centre.</p>
+
+<p>Wondering what the knob could be for, Grace gave it a sharp pull; but
+she could not move it. Next she pushed it; and then&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Bang!</p>
+
+<p>The folding doors fell to with a slam, everything became suddenly dark,
+and Grace found herself shut inside the Magic Cabinet. Just for an
+instant she felt too startled to move; but when she recovered from her
+surprise, instead of trying to open the doors of the cabinet, she felt
+for the little metal knob again, and then pushed at it with all her
+might.</p>
+
+<p>First there was a sharp snap, like the turning of a lock; and then she
+heard a harsh, grating sound, as the back of the cabinet slid slowly
+aside and revealed&mdash;what do you think?</p>
+
+<p>The wall of the room behind? A secret cupboard?</p>
+
+<p>No, neither of these.</p>
+
+<p>Directly the back of the cabinet moved aside a sudden and brilliant
+flash of light dazzled Grace's eyes, and she was obliged to cover them
+with her hands. But it was not long before she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> began to peep between
+her fingers, and then she almost cried out for joy.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed that a scene of fairyland had been spread out before her, but
+not in a picture, for everything she saw looked as real as it was
+beautiful. Grace found that she was no longer sitting in a dark and
+narrow cabinet, but on the top step of a marble stairway, which led down
+to a lake of clear and shining water. This lake, on which numbers of
+snowy swans swam in and out among the lily beds, stretched out far and
+wide, and on its banks, among flower-decked trees and shrubs, stately
+palaces and temples were built, whose gilded domes and marble terraces
+glistened brightly in the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>All this Grace took in with one delighted glance, but it was as quickly
+forgotten in a new and greater surprise that awaited her.</p>
+
+<p>Gently but swiftly over the surface of the shining lake there glided a
+wonderful boat which glimmered with a pearly lustre, and as the breeze,
+filling its sails of purple silk, brought it closer to the steps, Grace
+gave a glad cry and sprang to her feet. A tall, white-bearded man, who
+stood in the prow of the boat, waved a long golden wand over his head,
+and Grace clapped her hands in glee.</p>
+
+<p>"It's my dear, dear Indian priest off the door of the cabinet," she
+cried. "But how tall and beautiful he has grown!"</p>
+
+<p>Before she could say another word the boat of pearl sailed up alongside
+the bottom marble step, and the old man beckoned to her to come down.
+She needed no second bidding, but ran lightly down the stairs and sprang
+into his outstretched arms.</p>
+
+<p>"What a dear, good magic priest you are to come," she said, as he put
+her into a cosy place on some cushions at the bottom of the boat. "And
+what a lovely place this is! Do you live here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes," answered the old man, with a grave smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course; I forgot. You live on the door of the Magic Cabinet
+sometimes. You have been there quite a long time. Ever since I can
+remember anything you have sat in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> front of the little carved temple.
+Don't you find it dull there sometimes?"</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know I don't go away while you are asleep?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never thought of that," said Grace. "But please tell me, where is the
+Magic Cabinet now?"</p>
+
+<p>The old priest was busy attending to the sails of the boat, which was
+now shooting swiftly away from the shore; but at the question he looked
+up and pointed towards the top of the steps with his golden wand.</p>
+
+<p>Grace looked and saw a lovely little temple built of inlaid coloured
+marbles.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that really the back of our dear old black cabinet?" she cried. "How
+pretty it is! I wonder why we have never found it out."</p>
+
+<p>"Everything has two sides," said the old man, "and one is always more
+beautiful than the other; and, strange to say, the best side is
+generally hidden. It can always be found if people wish for it; but as a
+rule they don't care to take the trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Grace looked very earnestly into the priest's face while he spoke; and
+after he had finished she was so long silent that at last he asked,
+"What are you thinking about?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was thinking about your face," she answered. "You won't think me
+rude, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, certainly not."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of course, you are just my dear old Indian priest, with the
+strange, dark face and nice white beard, exactly like I have always
+known you, only ever so much bigger and taller; and I'm sure that long
+wand is much finer than the little gold bar you generally hold; but I
+can't help thinking you are just a little like my mother's Uncle Jacob,
+who left us the Magic Cabinet. I have often looked at him in the album,
+and your eyes have a look in them like his. You don't mind, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," answered the old man, smiling kindly; and then he went
+back to the sails again, because the boat was nearing a little island.</p>
+
+<p>"Are we going to get out here?" asked Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; you want me to do something for you, don't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> And then,
+without waiting for an answer, he pulled some silken cords, which folded
+up the purple sails like the wings of a resting-bird, and the boat
+grounded gently, and without the slightest shock, on a mossy bank.</p>
+
+<p>Taking the little girl in his arms, the old man sprang ashore. Bright
+flowers and ripe fruits grew in abundance on this fairy-like island, and
+birds of gorgeous plumage flew hither and thither, filling the sunny air
+with music.</p>
+
+<p>But the old priest did not seem to notice any of these things. He led
+Grace by the hand up the mossy bank, and through a thicket of flowering
+shrubs into a glade, in the centre of which he halted and said, "Now,
+what is it to be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I can't choose," said Grace, looking eagerly up into his face. "You
+know I want mother to be quite well; and I don't want you or the Magic
+Cabinet to go away from us. But I don't know what you had better do.
+Please, please, do whatever you like; I know it will be nice."</p>
+
+<p>The old priest smiled, and struck the ground with his golden wand. Then
+there was such a noise that Grace had to cover up both her ears; and at
+the same time, out of the ground, at a little distance, there rose a
+great red-brick house, with queer twisted chimneys and overhanging
+gable-ends.</p>
+
+<p>Grace stared with astonishment from the house to the gravely-smiling
+priest; and at last she cried, "Why, it is our dear old home where we
+used to live before we got so poor! I must be asleep and dreaming."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, and if you are, don't you like the dream?" asked her old friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, it's a beautiful dream; it can't be true," said Grace; and
+then she added quickly, "May we go into the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if you like," he answered; and he took her by the hand, and led
+her up the steps and through the doorway.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3 class="section"><a name="THE_MAGIC_CABINET_II" id="THE_MAGIC_CABINET_II"></a>II.<br />
+UNCLE JACOB'S GIFT.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Grace passed through the doorway of the red-brick house, which the
+old priest had raised in such a magical fashion out of the ground, she
+looked eagerly round the hall, and then clapped her hands and cried,
+"Why, I do believe everything is here just as it used to be. I don't
+remember all these beautiful pictures and things; but mother and father
+have often told me about them. Oh, I wish they could be here to see!"</p>
+
+<p>Her guide did not answer, but still holding her by the hand, he led her
+into a spacious room. It was so pretty that it almost took Grace's
+breath away. The softness of the carpets, the colours of the curtains
+and other drapery, the glittering mirrors on the walls, everything she
+saw was new and wonderful to her, and seemed like nothing so much as a
+story out of the "Arabian Nights."</p>
+
+<p>But before she could do anything more than give one little gasp of
+delight, the old Indian priest at her side waved his golden wand.</p>
+
+<p>Then a curtain which hung before a doorway at a little distance was
+suddenly looped up, and, with a light step, Grace's mother, looking rosy
+and well, came into the room.</p>
+
+<p>Grace gave the old man's hand a hard squeeze, but although she had a
+great longing to run straight into her mother's arms, some strange
+feeling held her back. After feasting her eyes for a moment on her
+mother's bright and happy face, she whispered, "Where's father?"</p>
+
+<p>Again the wonderful golden wand was raised, and then the curtain which
+had fallen into its place before the doorway was pushed hastily aside,
+and Grace saw her father.</p>
+
+<p>All traces of sorrow and care had left his face; he held his head high,
+his eyes shone with a glad light, and in his hands he carried a large
+book bound in white and gold.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>As he entered the room, Mrs. Goodman turned, and with a little cry of
+joy went to meet him. Then an expression came into her father's face
+which Grace could not understand, as silently, and with bowed head, he
+gave the beautiful book into his wife's hands.</p>
+
+<p>"At last!" cried Grace's mother, taking it from him, and her voice was
+broken by a sob, while the tears gathered in her eyes; but still Grace
+could see that she was very happy.</p>
+
+<p>Grace was very happy, too, and she could scarcely take her eyes from her
+father and mother when she heard the voice of the Indian priest speaking
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there anything more you would like?" the old man asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how kind and good you are!" cried Grace, squeezing his hand harder
+than ever; "and how ungrateful I am to forget all about you. You have
+chosen the loveliest things."</p>
+
+<p>"But don't you want anything for yourself?" asked her strange friend.
+"You may choose anything you like."</p>
+
+<p>Grace looked all round the big room, and it seemed so full of pretty
+things that at first she could not think of anything to wish for; but
+suddenly she gave a little jump and cried: "The Magic Cabinet! It isn't
+here; and I would like to have it, please."</p>
+
+<p>The old man looked grave; but he answered at once: "You have chosen, so
+you must have it; for in this country a choice is too serious a thing to
+be taken back. If you don't like it you must make the best of it. But
+you know you can't be at both sides of the cabinet at one and the same
+time. Come with me."</p>
+
+<p>Grace felt a little uncomfortable as the old man led her quickly across
+the room and through the curtained doorway by which her father and
+mother had entered.</p>
+
+<p>Directly the curtain fell behind them she found that they were in the
+dark; and, although she still held her friend's hand, she began to be
+afraid.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, whatever is going to happen? I can't see anything at all!" she
+cried.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>"I am going to wave my golden wand," answered the slow and solemn voice
+of the Indian priest.</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke there was a vivid flash of light. Little Grace gave a
+violent start, and rubbed her eyes; and then&mdash;and then she burst into
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>For what do you think that sudden flash of light had shown her?</p>
+
+<p>It had shown her that she was back again in the shabby little home she
+had known so long; that her mother, pale and ill as ever, was just
+awakening from her sleep; that her father had returned and was lighting
+the lamp; that the little carved figure of the Indian priest was sitting
+motionless before the temple on the doors of the Magic Cabinet; and,
+showing her all this, it also showed her that she had been fast asleep
+and dreaming.</p>
+
+<p>It was too hard to bear. To think that the wonderful power of the magic
+priest, the beautiful fairy-like country, the dear old home, her
+mother's health and happiness, and her father's book,&mdash;to think that all
+these delightful things were only parts of a strange dream was a
+terrible disappointment to Grace, and she cried as if her heart would
+break.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, darling," said her father, crossing the room and lifting up the
+little girl in his strong arms, "is it as bad as all that? Can't you
+bear to part with the old cabinet, even for mother's sake?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's&mdash;it's not that," sobbed Grace, hiding her face on his shoulder.
+"I&mdash;I wish we could keep the cabinet; but it's not that. It's my dream."</p>
+
+<p>"Your dream, dear? Well, come and tell mother and me all about it."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Goodman sat down in a chair beside his wife, and when she could
+control her sobs, Grace told them the whole story of her strange journey
+to the other side of the Magic Cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>When she had finished her father said: "Well, darling, it was a very
+pleasant dream while it lasted; but beautiful things can't last for ever
+any more than ugly ones. It is no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> wonder that you should have had such
+a dream after all our talk about Uncle Jacob's fancies, and the Buddhist
+priest, and the good fortune that was supposed to come to the owners of
+the Magic Cabinet."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm not surprised about all that, especially as Grace has always
+made-believe about that funny little priest," said Mrs. Goodman; "but I
+can't think what set her dreaming about a knob inside the cabinet."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's not only a dream," cried Grace. "I have often seen the
+little knob, and I have pushed it and pulled it, but I can never make it
+move."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you tell us about it? I'm sure I have never seen it," said
+her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and show it to me now," said Mr. Goodman, putting Grace off his
+knee, and taking the lamp from the table.</p>
+
+<p>Grace, followed by her mother and father, crossed over to the corner in
+which the Magic Cabinet stood. The lamp was placed on a chair just in
+front of it; and then Grace, with rather a reproachful glance at the
+figure of the Indian priest, twisted round the little gold bar, and
+opened the two ebony doors.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" cried Grace, stooping down, "I can just see the knob; but you
+can't get low enough. You can feel it, though, if you put your hand into
+this corner."</p>
+
+<p>Guided by the direction in which her finger pointed, Mr. Goodman thrust
+his hand right back into the darkest corner of the cabinet; and
+presently he said, "Yes, I can certainly feel something hard and round
+like a little button. But I can't move it."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke he pulled at the little knob with a force that shook the
+cabinet in its place.</p>
+
+<p>"Push it, father!" cried Grace eagerly. "That's what I did in my dream."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Goodman obeyed, and instantly there was a low musical "twang," like
+that caused by the striking of a Jew's harp, or the quick vibration of a
+piece of watch-spring; a sharp click followed, and something was heard
+to fall on to the ebony floor of the cabinet.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>Mrs. Goodman held the light closer, and in a moment her husband said,
+"Here is a little secret door hinged down to the bottom of the cabinet.
+The knob must have been fixed to a spring, and in pressing it I have
+released the catch of the door, which has fallen flat, leaving a small
+square opening."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there anything inside?" asked Grace, in a hurried, excited whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see," said her father, thrusting in his hand again. "Ah, yes! A
+little drawer!"</p>
+
+<p>A moment later he stood upright, holding a tiny drawer of sweet-smelling
+sandal-wood in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along to the table," he said; "we will soon see if there is
+anything nice inside."</p>
+
+<p>Although it was evident that he was trying to speak carelessly, there
+was a strange eagerness in his manner; and as Mrs. Goodman set the lamp
+on the table, the light revealed a spot of bright colour on each of her
+pale cheeks; and as for Grace, she was in raptures.</p>
+
+<p>"I know&mdash;I <i>know</i> it's something beautiful," she cried; "and I believe
+my priest is a magic priest after all."</p>
+
+<p>They all three gathered round the light, and Mr. Goodman laid the little
+secret drawer on the table.</p>
+
+<p>The drawer seemed to be quite full, but its contents were completely
+covered by a neatly-folded piece of Indian silk. This was quickly
+removed; and under it there lay an ivory box of delicate workmanship. It
+fitted closely into the drawer, and Mr. Goodman lifted it out with great
+care. On opening the lid he revealed a second box; and this was so
+beautiful that it drew exclamations of delight from both Grace and her
+mother. The inner box was made of gold, and it was covered with fruit
+and flowers and birds, all wrought in wonderful <i>repouss&eacute;</i> work.</p>
+
+<p>There was some difficulty in finding how this golden box was to be
+opened; but a little examination brought to light a secret spring, and
+at the first pressure the lid of the box flew back and the central
+treasure of the Magic Cabinet was exposed to view.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>Grace gave a cry of disappointment, for, lying in a snug little nest of
+pink cotton-wool, she saw only a dull, ugly-looking stone.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Goodman did not speak, but looked earnestly at her husband as he
+took the stone from its resting-place and held it close under the light.
+He took a glass from his pocket and examined it carefully for a moment,
+and then laid it back in the golden box again, and said, "It is a
+diamond, and, I believe, a very valuable one."</p>
+
+<p>"But it isn't a bit pretty and sparkly like the diamonds in the shop
+windows," said Grace. "What is the good of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a wonderful magic gift," answered her father. "All that money can
+do for us, this dull-looking stone can do. It can buy all the things
+mother needs to make her strong and well."</p>
+
+<p>"And it can print father's book, and make us all as happy as we were in
+your dream," said her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Goodman now took the little sandal-wood drawer in his hand again,
+and, under another piece of Indian silk, he found a letter.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, this is for you," he said; "and see&mdash;surely this must be your
+Uncle Jacob's writing?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Goodman took the envelope from his hand, and read the inscription,
+which was written in strange, angular characters:</p>
+
+<p class="center">"TO MY NIECE."</p>
+
+<p>Her hand shook a little as she broke the seal and drew out a small sheet
+of paper covered closely with the same writing, and her voice was
+unsteady as she read the old man's letter aloud.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"My dear Niece,&mdash;When my will is read you may be surprised
+to find that I have left you only one gift&mdash;my old Indian
+cabinet. But I value it very highly, and I believe that for
+my sake you will never willingly part with it. I am rich,
+and if you needed money I could leave you plenty; but you
+have enough and to spare at present, and I hope you will
+never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> know the want of it. But still, I mean to make one
+slight provision for you. Authors are not always good men
+of business, and your husband may lose his money; and
+however great and good his book may be, it may be rejected
+by the world, and you may some day be poor. I shall place
+an uncut diamond of some value in the secret drawer of the
+old cabinet, hoping that you may find it in a time of need.
+You may wonder why I trust to such a chance; but some wise
+man has said that <i>all chance is direction which we cannot
+see</i>, and I believe he is right, so I shall follow my whim.
+If you should discover the secret at a time when you are
+not in need of money, keep the gem uncut as a wonderful
+work of nature; there are not many like it in the world.
+But if the money it can bring you will be useful, do not
+hesitate to sell it; it will fetch a high price. In any
+case, accept it as the last gift of your affectionate</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right;">"<span class="smcap">Uncle Jacob</span>."</p></div>
+
+<p>There was silence in the little room for a few moments after Uncle
+Jacob's letter had been read. Mr. Goodman led his wife back to her
+chair, and Grace stood solemnly waiting for somebody to speak.</p>
+
+<p>At last her father looked at her with a bright smile.</p>
+
+<p>"We must be very thankful to Uncle Jacob for his gift," he said; "but we
+mustn't forget that it was your wonderful dream which led us to the
+discovery."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help thinking that my dear Indian priest had something to do
+with it. You know he is a magic one; and he did look something like
+Uncle Jacob in my dream, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Her mother and father smiled; and Mr. Goodman rose briskly and said, "I
+must make haste and tell the man he needn't come to look at the
+cabinet."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, father," cried Grace, who was feeling a little puzzled, "won't it
+have to go away, after all?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my child," he answered; "mother will be able to get well without
+losing it now. We shall keep the Magic Cabinet."</p>
+
+<p>"There, I thought my Indian priest wouldn't tell a story.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> I asked him
+to promise not to go away and leave us, and he shook his hand most
+beautifully."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Goodman bent down and kissed her; and then he left the room, and
+Grace, after taking a peep at her little Indian priest, ran and threw
+her arms lovingly round her mother's neck.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>Uncle Jacob's gift was the means of making Grace's dream come true in a
+wonderful way. First of all her mother got well and the roses came back
+into her cheeks again; and then, instead of going on a magic journey
+through the back of the cabinet, the father and mother and their little
+girl went into the country, which was quite as beautiful, if not so
+strange, as the island in the shining lake. A little later the dear old
+red-brick home was bought again, and they all went to live there; Mr.
+Goodman's book was published, and it was bound in white and gold, just
+as Grace had seen it in her dream. And after it had been examined and
+admired, at Grace's suggestion it was put away under the watchful care
+of the little Indian priest in the Magic Cabinet.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="genre"><a name="GIRLHOOD_AND_YOUTH" id="GIRLHOOD_AND_YOUTH"></a>GIRLHOOD AND YOUTH.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="ONLY_TIM" id="ONLY_TIM"></a>ONLY TIM.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY SARAH DOUDNEY.</h3>
+
+
+<h3 class="section"><a name="ONLY_TIM_I" id="ONLY_TIM_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<p>"I say, Bee, are you coming?"</p>
+
+<p>Claude Molyneux, in all the glory of fourteen summers and a suit of new
+white flannels, stands looking up with a slight frown of impatience at
+an open bay-window. It has been one of the hottest of August days; and
+now at four o'clock in the afternoon the haze of heat hangs over the
+sea, and makes a purple cloud of the distant coast. But, for all that,
+it is splendid weather; just the kind of weather that a boy likes when
+he comes to spend his holidays at the seaside; and Claude, who is an
+Indian-born boy, has no objection to a good hot summer.</p>
+
+<p>As he stands, hands in pockets, on the narrow pebbled path under the
+window, you cannot help admiring the grace of his slim, well-knit
+figure, and the delicate moulding of his features. The fair skin is
+sun-tanned, as a boy's skin ought to be; the eyes, large and
+heavy-lidded, are of a dark grey, not brilliant, but soft; the light,
+fine hair is cropped close to the shapely head. He is a lad that one
+likes at the first glance; and although one sees, all too plainly, that
+those chiselled lips can take a disdainful curl sometimes, one knows
+instinctively<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> that they may always be trusted to tell the simple truth.
+Anything mean, anything sneaky, could not live in the steady light of
+those dark-grey eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Bee-e!" he sings out again, with a little drawl, which, however,
+does not make the tone less imperative. Master Claude is not accustomed
+to be kept waiting, and is beginning to think himself rather badly used.</p>
+
+<p>"Coming," cries a sweet treble; and then a head and shoulders appear
+above the row of scarlet geraniums on the window-sill.</p>
+
+<p>She is worth waiting for, this loitering Bee, whose thirteen years have
+given her none of the airs of premature womanhood. Her smooth round
+cheeks are tinted with the tender pink of the shell; her great eyes, of
+speedwell blue, are opened frankly and fearlessly on the whole world.
+Taken singly, not one of her features is, perhaps, quite faultless; but
+it would be hard to find a critic who could quarrel with the small face,
+framed in waves of ruddy golden hair that go tumbling down below her
+waist. You can see a freckle or two on the sides of her little nose, and
+notice that her slender hands are browned by the sea-side sun; for Bee
+is one of those lucky girls who are permitted to dabble freely in
+salt-water, and get all the benefit that briny breezes can bestow.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't come sooner," she says in a tone of apology. "We always have
+to learn a hymn on Saturdays, and I've had <i>such</i> a bother with Dolly.
+She <i>would</i> want to know where 'the scoffer's seat' was, and if it had a
+cushion? And it does so worry me to try to explain."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you poor thing&mdash;you must be quite worn out!" responds Claude, with
+genuine sympathy. "But make haste; you haven't got your hat on yet."</p>
+
+<p>Bee makes a little dive, and brings up a wide-brimmed sailor's hat with
+a blue ribbon round it. She puts it on, fastens it securely under the
+silken masses of her hair, and then declares herself to be quite ready.</p>
+
+<p>In the next instant the girl and boy are walking side by side along the
+shore, near enough to the sea to hear the soft rush<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> of the tide. The
+blue eyes are turned inquiringly on Claude's face, which is just a shade
+graver than it ought to be on this delightful do-nothing day.</p>
+
+<p>"Bee," he says after a silence, "I don't quite approve of your being
+great friends with Crooke&mdash;Tim Crooke. What a name it is! He may be a
+good sort of fellow, but he's not in our set at all, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"He <i>is</i> a good sort of fellow," she answers. "There's no doubt about
+that. Aunt Hetty likes him very much. And he's clever, Claude; he can do
+ever so many things."</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say he can," says Mr. Molyneux, throwing back his head and
+quickening his pace. "But you needn't have got so <i>very</i> intimate. We
+could have done very well without him to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"He's Mr. Carey's pupil," remarks Bee quietly. "Aunt Hetty couldn't
+invite Mr. Carey and leave out Tim."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we could have been jolly enough without Mr. Carey. It's a
+mistake, I think, to see too much of this Tim Crooke; he isn't a
+gentleman, and he oughtn't to expect us to notice him particularly."</p>
+
+<p>"He doesn't expect anything; we like him; he's our friend." The soft
+pink deepens on Bee's cheeks, and her ripe lips quiver a little. She
+loves Claude with all her heart, and thinks him the king of boys; but,
+for all that, she won't let him be unjust if she can help it.</p>
+
+<p>Claude tramps on over sand, and pebbles, and seaweed, with lips firmly
+compressed and eyes gazing steadily before him. Bee, as she glances at
+him, knows quite well what Claude feels when he looks as if his features
+had got frozen into marble. And she knows, too, that he will be
+painfully, frigidly, exasperatingly polite to her all the evening.</p>
+
+<p>Matters cannot go on like this, she says to herself in desperation.
+Claude arrived only yesterday, and here they are beginning his holiday
+with a dreadful disagreement. She has been counting the days that must
+pass before she sees him; writing him little letters full of sweet
+child-love and longing; wearing a pinafore over her newest frock, that
+it may be kept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> fresh and pretty for his critical eyes. And now he is
+here, walking by her side; and she has offended him.</p>
+
+<p>Is it Heaven or the instincts of her own innocent little heart that
+teach this girl tact and wisdom? She doesn't proceed to inspire Claude
+with a maddening desire to punch Tim's head, by recounting a long
+catalogue of Mr. Crooke's perfections, as a more experienced person
+would probably have done. But she draws a shade closer to her companion,
+and presently he finds a tiny brown hand upon his white flannel sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"You dear old Empey," she says lovingly, "I've been wanting you for, oh,
+<i>such</i> a long time!"</p>
+
+<p>The frozen face thaws; the dark grey eyes shine softly. "Empey" is her
+pet name for him, an abbreviation of "Emperor;" and he likes to hear her
+say it.</p>
+
+<p>"And I've wanted you, old chap," he answers, putting his arm round the
+brown-holland waist.</p>
+
+<p>"Empey, we always do get on well together, don't we?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we do,"&mdash;with a squeeze.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, just to please me, won't you be a little kind to poor Tim? He's
+not a splendid fellow like you, and he knows he never will be. I do so
+want you to forget that he's a nobody. We are all so much more
+comfortable when we don't remember things of that sort. You're not
+angry, Empey?"</p>
+
+<p>"Angry; no, you silly old thing!"</p>
+
+<p>And then she knows, without any more words, that he will grant her
+request.</p>
+
+<p>The little boat that Claude has hired is waiting for them at the
+landing-place, and Bee steps into it with the lightest of hearts. Aunt
+Hetty and the rest will follow in a larger boat; but Mr. Molyneux has
+resolved to row Miss Beatrice Jocelyn himself.</p>
+
+<p>He rows as he does everything, easily and gracefully, and Bee watches
+him with happy blue eyes as they go gliding over the warm sea. How still
+it is to-day! Beyond the grey rocks and yellow sands they can see the
+golden harvest fields full of standing sheaves, and still farther away
+there are low hills faintly outlined through the hot mist. The little
+town, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> its irregularly-built terraces, looks dazzlingly white in
+the sunshine; but the church, standing on high ground, lifts a red spire
+into the hazy blue.</p>
+
+<p>"I could live on the sea!" says Bee ecstatically. "You don't know what
+it costs me to come out of a boat; I always want this lovely gliding
+feeling to go on for ever. Don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I like it awfully," he replies; "but then there are other things that
+I want to do by-and-by. I mean to try my hand at tiger-shooting when I
+go out to the governor."</p>
+
+<p>"But, oh, Empey, it'll be a long time before you have to go out to
+India!"</p>
+
+<p>Her red mouth drops a little at the corners, and her dimples become
+invisible. He looks at her with a gleam of mischief in his lazy eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you call a long time?" he asks. "Just a year or two, that's
+nothing. Never mind, Bee, you'll get on very well without me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Empey!"</p>
+
+<p>The great blue eyes glisten; and Claude is penitent in an instant.</p>
+
+<p>"You ridiculous old chap!" he says gaily. "Haven't you been told
+thousands of times that my dad is your guardian, and as good as a father
+to you? And do you suppose that I'd go to India and leave you behind?
+You're coming too, you know, and you'll sit perched up on the back of an
+elephant to see me shoot tigers. What a time we'll have out there, Bee!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really mean it?" she cries, with a rapturous face; blue eyes
+shining like sapphires, cheeks aglow with the richest rose.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do. It was all arranged, years ago, by our two governors; I
+thought Aunt Hetty had told you. But I say, Bee, when the time <i>does</i>
+come, I hope you won't make a fuss about leaving England!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it," she says sturdily. "I shall like to see the Ganges,
+and the big water-lilies, and the alligators. But what's to become of
+Dolly?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>"I don't know; I suppose she'll have to stay with Aunt Hetty. You belong
+to <i>us</i>, you see, old girl; so you and I shall never be parted."</p>
+
+<p>"No, never be parted," she echoes, looking out across the calm waters
+with eyes full of innocent joy.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="section"><a name="ONLY_TIM_II" id="ONLY_TIM_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<p>As soon as the boat grates on the shallows, two small bare-legged
+urchins rush forward to help Miss Jocelyn to land. But Bee, active and
+fearless, needs no aid at all, and reaches the pebbled beach with a
+light spring.</p>
+
+<p>"Is tea nearly ready, Bob?" she asks, addressing the elder lad, who
+grins with delight from ear to ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss."</p>
+
+<p>"And has your mother got an immense lobster, and a big crab, and heaps
+of prawns?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss; whoppers, all of 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right; the sea does give us such appetites, doesn't it, Empey? I
+hope the others will be here soon."</p>
+
+<p>"If they don't make haste they'll find only the shell of the lobster,"
+he answers, joining her on the shore. "I shall never be able to control
+myself if I take one look at him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then don't look at him, greedy!" she cries, clapping her hands, and
+dancing round and round him, while the fisherman's children stare at her
+wonderful golden locks. "I didn't forget your weakness for lobster; Aunt
+Hetty said I might arrange it all; and we shall have a splendid tea!"</p>
+
+<p>He looks at her with his quiet smile, half amused, wholly loving.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be whirling like a Dervish, and making yourself too hot to eat
+anything," he says, putting a stop to her evolutions. "Let's saunter
+along the beach, and sit down a bit, my Queen Bee."</p>
+
+<p>It is a bright, glistening beach, strewn with many-coloured pebbles and
+stones, brown, yellow, purple, crimson, and snow-white; there are empty
+shells in abundance, out of which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> charming pincushions can be
+constructed by skilful fingers; and, best of all, there are little heaps
+of delicate sea-weed, capable of being pressed out into tiny tree-like
+forms of coral-pink. Altogether, this strip of shore is a very treasury
+for children, and Bee can never come here without wanting to load her
+own pockets and everybody else's with heavy spoils.</p>
+
+<p>Claude, who has already been presented with seven shell pincushions, a
+polished pebble, and three copy-books filled with gummed sea-weed, does
+not care to add to this valuable collection of marine treasures. He
+arrests the little hand that is making a grasp at a clam, and says
+persuasively, "Stop till we come here again, Bee; don't pick up things
+this afternoon. It's so jolly to loaf about and do nothing, you know."</p>
+
+<p>She obeys, after casting one regretful glance at that fascinating
+scalloped shell; and they stroll on in placid contentment. From this
+part of the coast they get a wide ocean outlook, and can gaze far away
+to the faint sea-line dissolving into the sky.</p>
+
+<p>How calm it is! Beautiful, infinite sea, suggesting thoughts of voyages
+into unknown climes; of delightful secrets, yet unfathomed; of that
+enchanting "by-and-by" which is the children's Promised Land! The boy
+and girl are quiet for a time, dreaming their tranquil little dreams in
+the silence of utter satisfaction, while the waves wash the beach with
+the old lulling sound, and the rock-shadows are slowly lengthening on
+the sand.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Mrs. Drake, the fisherman's wife, is busy with her
+preparations indoors. The cottage stands in a sheltered nook, a wooden
+dwelling, coated with tar, with nets hanging outside its walls, and a
+doorstep as white as snow. A few hardy geraniums in pots brighten the
+windows, but garden there is and can be none; the pebbly shore must
+serve the children as a playground. Rosy cheeks and sound lungs give
+proof that the little Drakes are thriving in their seaside home; and the
+youngest, a baby of two, lies placidly sucking its thumb on the sunny
+beach.</p>
+
+<p>The boat containing Aunt Hetty and her party nears the landing, and just
+for one second Claude's brow darkens again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> A sturdy lad is pulling
+strong strokes, with arms that seem almost as strong as Drake's; and the
+lad has a merry brown face and black curly hair, and wears a scarlet cap
+set jauntily on his head. It is Tim Crooke, looking provokingly at his
+ease among his aristocratic friends, and quite prepared to enjoy
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Hetty, gentlest and kindest of elderly ladies, is assisted to land
+by the clergyman; while Tim takes up Dolly in his strong arms and places
+her safely on the shore. And then they all make for the cottage, Bee
+lingering in the rear with Claude, and winning him back to good-humour
+with a pleading look from the sunny blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Surely this tea in the fisherman's kitchen is a banquet fit for the
+gods! It is a happy, hungry group that gathers round the deal table;
+Bee, doing the honours, pours out tea, and has a great deal of business
+on her hands; Aunt Hetty, at the other end of the board, keeps anxious
+watch over Dolly, who consumes prawns with frightful rapidity; Tim
+Crooke beams on everybody and ministers to the wants of everybody, like
+the good-natured fellow that he is. And Claude, true to his unuttered
+promise, is kind to Tim in a pleasant, natural way.</p>
+
+<p>At length the meal comes to an end; lobster, prawns, and crab are all
+demolished! and the last drop is drained out of the teapot. The party
+stroll out of doors, and revel in the cool of the evening air.</p>
+
+<p>How is it that they begin to talk about heroes and heroism? Nobody can
+remember afterwards who started the subject; but certain it is that all,
+save Dolly, become interested in the conversation, and each has a word
+to say. Mr. Carey, the clergyman, is the leading talker; and he talks
+well, not priggishly, nor prosily, but speaks the right words in the
+right way, and wins the attention of his companions.</p>
+
+<p>"Charles Kingsley has told us," he says, "'that true heroism must
+involve self-sacrifice;' it is the highest form of moral beauty. And
+it's a good thing when girls and boys fall to thinking about heroes and
+heroines; the thinking begets long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>ing to do likewise. What was it that
+you were saying last night about your favourite hero, Tim?"</p>
+
+<p>Tim lifts his head, and a rush of colour comes suddenly into his brown
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"Jim Bludso is the fellow I like," he says, speaking quickly. "Wasn't it
+grand of him to hold the bow of the <i>Prairie Belle</i> against the bank,
+while she was burning? The passengers all got off, you know, before the
+smoke-stacks fell; only Bludso's life was lost. He let himself be burnt
+to save the rest."</p>
+
+<p>"It <i>was</i> grand!" murmurs Bee, drawing a long breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," says Claude, bringing out his words slowly; "but I like Bert
+Harte's 'Flynn of Virginia' better still. You see, it was Jim Bludso's
+own fault that the steamer caught fire. Nothing would stop him from
+running a race with the <i>Movestar</i>; and so the <i>Prairie Belle</i> came
+tearing along the Mississippi&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'With a nigger squat on her safety-valve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her furnace crammed, rosin and pine!'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Jolly fun it must have been, but anybody could have foretold the end. As
+to Flynn, he was working on the Central Pacific Railway with his mate, a
+married man, when they found the whole concern giving way. And Flynn set
+his back against the wall in the dark drift, and held the timbers that
+were ready to fall, and sang out to Jake to run for his wife's sake."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that was beautiful!" Bee sighs, with her blue eyes full of tears.
+"Flynn was only Flynn, wasn't he? But Jake had got somebody who couldn't
+live without him."</p>
+
+<p>"That was just what Flynn felt, he was only Flynn," Claude replies,
+pleased that his hero is appreciated. "There was something splendidly
+deliberate in his self-sacrifice, don't you think so, sir?" he adds,
+turning to Mr. Carey.</p>
+
+<p>"You are quite right," Mr. Carey answers thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>Dolly comes running up to the group with shrill cries showing a little
+live crab in her small palm. A faint breeze is blowing off the sea, the
+west grows golden, and Aunt Hetty rises from her seat on the beach.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>"We must be going home now," she says. "Claude, dear boy, will you look
+for my shawl?"</p>
+
+<p>Claude obediently goes into the cottage to bring out the wraps; Mr.
+Carey hastens off to summon Drake; and Tim finds himself, for a few
+seconds, by Bee's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Hasn't it been a lovely afternoon?" she says. "I've been so happy,
+haven't you? Oh, Tim, Claude has told me something!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a secret?" Tim asks.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he didn't say so. He says it was arranged years ago that he is to
+take me out to India, by-and-by. I'm so glad, Tim; I'd go anywhere with
+Claude."</p>
+
+<p>The golden glow that shines on Tim's face seems to dazzle him, and he
+turns his head away from the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad that you are glad, Bee," he says quietly. And that is all.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="section"><a name="ONLY_TIM_III" id="ONLY_TIM_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<p>Sunday morning dawns, hot and still, but clearer than the day before.
+Aunt Hetty and her nieces are sitting in the bay-windowed room, which
+has the usual furniture of seaside lodgings. They have just gone through
+their morning readings, and are ready to begin breakfast when Claude
+comes downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"How is the wrist, dear boy?" Aunt Hetty asks tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>In jumping out of the boat last night he has managed to get a sprain,
+but is disposed to treat the matter lightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it will soon be well, thanks," he says, taking his place, and
+giving a smile to Bee.</p>
+
+<p>A little later they all set out for church, and Bee and Claude attract
+many an admiring glance as they walk together along the terraces. She
+wears her new frock, of some soft creamy stuff, and a quaint "granny"
+bonnet of ivory satin lined with pale blue; her short skirts display
+silk stockings and dainty little shoes of patent leather. Aunt Hetty,
+her tall thin figure draped with black lace, follows with Dolly, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
+little witch of eight years old, who is the pet and plague of the good
+lady's life. Other seaside visitors look after the party from Nelson
+Lodge, and discuss them freely among themselves; but they do not speak
+from personal knowledge of Lady Henrietta Jocelyn and her charges. All
+they know is that Lady Henrietta is the maiden aunt of the two girls,
+and that they were committed to her care by her brother who died in
+India.</p>
+
+<p>The church is large, recently built, and smells strongly of mortar and
+varnish. In winter Mr. Carey has to preach to a scanty congregation; but
+in summer, when the lodging-houses are full, there is always a goodly
+number of worshippers.</p>
+
+<p>The Jocelyns, whose home is in town, are accustomed to attend St.
+George's, Hanover Square, and never feel perfectly comfortable in this
+seaside church, which is, as Bee says, "so dreadfully new, and so
+unfurnished." She wishes they could all worship out of doors, among the
+rocks, with the blue sea murmuring near them; and yet she likes to hear
+Tim's voice, as he stands among the other surpliced boys and leads the
+singing.</p>
+
+<p>Not that Tim is by any means an ideal chorister. His surplice makes his
+brown skin look browner, and his curly head blacker than ever; and there
+is not a heavenly expression in his quick dark eyes. He is not in the
+least like one of those saintly boys we read of sometimes, who sing and
+lift their glances upward, and pass gently and speedily away from this
+wicked world. Judging from Tim's robust appearance he has many a year of
+earthly life before him, and many a hot battle to fight with the flesh
+and the devil.</p>
+
+<p>But it is a marvellous voice that comes from the lad's massive throat; a
+voice that goes up like a lark's song, carrying heavy hearts to higher
+regions with its notes. In future days there are some who will remember
+that morning's anthem, which Tim sings with all his triumphant power and
+thrilling sweetness. A few fishermen, standing just within the doors,
+listen entranced, and one rugged old fellow puts up a hard hand to hide
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>"The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their
+voice; the floods lift up their waves.</p>
+
+<p>"The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than
+the mighty waves of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>"Thy testimonies are very sure; holiness becometh Thine house, O Lord,
+for ever."</p>
+
+<p>The service comes to an end, and Aunt Hetty and her children walk
+homeward along the terraces, under a glaring sun. The sea is still calm,
+but a light breeze is stirring, creeping off the water and breathing
+across the hot sand and shingle. Bee gives a deep sigh of satisfaction
+as the zephyr kisses her rosy cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"It's going to be just a little cooler, Empey," she says, as they draw
+near Nelson Lodge.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it must be jolly on the sea to-day," he remarks, following a
+little cutter with longing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>When the midday meal is ended, Aunt Hetty repairs to the sofa to read
+Jeremy Taylor; and Dolly, having discovered an illustrated copy of the
+"Pilgrim's Progress," is silently gloating over a picture of Apollyon,
+dragon-winged, with smoke coming out of his nostrils. For fifteen or
+twenty minutes Claude and Bee whisper by the open window, and then a
+gentle sound from the sofa tells them that good Jeremy has lulled Aunt
+Hetty to repose.</p>
+
+<p>Claude gives Bee an expressive glance which plainly says, "Come along."
+Dolly's back is turned towards them; moreover, she has just lighted upon
+a whole family of fiends, and cannot take her eyes off the book. So the
+pair slip out of the room unheard and unseen, and gain the beach without
+let or hindrance.</p>
+
+<p>They shun the pier, and foot it briskly along the shore till they have
+left most of the promenaders behind. On and on they go till they get to
+the low rocks, and the smooth yellow sands strewn with mussel and cockle
+shells; and then they sit down to rest, and listen to the music of the
+tide.</p>
+
+<p>"You must take me to White Cove one day, Empey," says Bee, after a
+pause. "There are the most lovely shells to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> found there, and agates,
+and things. Mr. Carey said that somebody once picked up a bit of amber
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"I could row you there at once," returns Claude, "if it wasn't for this
+wrist of mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but it's Sunday; Aunt Hetty wouldn't like us to go."</p>
+
+<p>"She wouldn't mind it if I reasoned with her," responds Mr. Molyneux
+with perfect confidence in his own powers of argument. "All those little
+prejudices of hers could soon be got rid of."</p>
+
+<p>"Drake says it's rather dangerous near White Cove," observes Bee after
+another silence; "because of all the sunken rocks, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't know: I've never been there. But you've set me longing to
+see the place, old chap."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's lovely!" she cries, with enthusiasm. "Thousands and thousands
+of sea-birds sit on the cliffs; and there are lots of little caves, all
+hung with silky green sea-weeds, so quiet and cool."</p>
+
+<p>Claude leans back against the low rock behind him, and looks out across
+the sea with eyes half-closed. The horizon line is sharp and clear
+to-day; the blue of the sky meets, but does not mingle with the deeper
+blue of the ocean; a few white sails can be distinctly seen. Now and
+then a gull flashes silvery wings in the sunshine, and its cry comes
+wailing across the water to the shore.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, there's Tim!" says Bee, pointing to a broad-shouldered figure
+moving leisurely along the sand.</p>
+
+<p>He hears the well-known voice, and turns instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he may make himself useful to-day," remarks Claude, with a sudden
+inspiration. "I daresay he'll be glad enough to row to the cove if we
+ask him."</p>
+
+<p>Tim is more than glad, he is delighted to be included in the plans of
+Claude and Bee. To tell the truth, Sunday afternoon is generally rather
+a lonesome time to Tim Crooke. He has no vocation for Sunday-school
+teaching, and always feels intensely grateful to Mr. Carey for not
+bothering him to take a class. The little vicarage is, however, a dreary
+house when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> master and servants are out; and Tim is usually to be found
+wandering on the shore till the hour for tea.</p>
+
+<p>"Bill Drake is down yonder," says Tim, waving his hand towards a block
+of stone some distance off. "And he's got a little boat, a battered old
+thing, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Any old thing will do," interrupts Claude, rising eagerly. "We are not
+going to show off in front of the pier, you know; we only want to get
+away to White Cove and enjoy ourselves. Do you know the place, Crooke?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, very well. I've been there several times with Mr. Carey; it's a
+wonderful place for gulls. I suppose there are thousands of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, come along," cries Claude; and Bee springs gladly to her feet. It
+delights her to see the magnificent Empey growing so friendly with that
+good old Tim, and as she trips on, leaving dainty footprints on the
+sands, her mind is busy with plans for the coming days. "This is only
+the beginning of pleasures," she says to herself; the holidays will last
+a long time, and they can enjoy many excursions about the coast. It is
+all going to be perfectly jolly, now that Claude has really consented to
+accept Tim; for Tim is so good-natured and useful that she hardly knows
+what they would do without him.</p>
+
+<p>The little boat is a battered old thing indeed, but nobody is inclined
+to find fault with it. Bill Drake is quite ready to let the young
+gentleman have his way; Bee steps in lightly enough, and seats herself;
+the lads follow, and then Tim pushes off, leaving Bill standing grinning
+on the shore.</p>
+
+<p>A happy girl is Bee Jocelyn as the boat glides on, and the fresh air
+fans her face. She has put on her broad-brimmed hat again; and the light
+breeze lifts her bright silky tresses, and spreads them round her head
+like a golden veil. She dips one little hand in the water&mdash;the beautiful
+sunny water that is as green as an emerald when you look deep into its
+depths; and then she trails her fingers in the sea and smiles at Claude.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Empey," she says, "how nice it would be if one of Undine's
+sea-relations were to put a coral necklace, all red and glittering, into
+my hand!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>"Or some strings of pearls," suggests Tim.</p>
+
+<p>"She will have a set of pearls one day," remarks Claude, in that quiet
+tone of his. "They were my mother's, and they are waiting in India for
+Bee."</p>
+
+<p>There is an unwonted softness in Tim's black eyes. He is a
+stout-hearted, matter-of-fact lad, people say, not given to dreaming;
+and yet he is seeing visions this afternoon. He sees Bee, not in her
+sailor's hat and girlish frock, but in white robes, with all her wealth
+of hair plaited up, and the pearls glistening on her neck. He sees the
+merry face grown graver, yet lovelier than ever; and then he tries to
+picture her home in that far-off land that he will never behold; a land
+of dark faces, and temples, and palms, and flowers.</p>
+
+<p>And Claude will be with her always; what a beautiful poetical life these
+two will live together! All the poetry is for them, and all the prose
+for Tim. His thoughts don't shape themselves into these very words,
+perhaps; but he does certainly feel that it is a dull path which lies
+before Tim Crooke.</p>
+
+<p>While he dreams, he pulls as steadily as usual, and they are drawing
+nearer and nearer to the little cove. Soon they gain a full view of
+those cliffs where the sea-birds sit, tier upon tier, like spectators in
+a circus, and the calm air is filled with strange cries. Bee claps her
+hands in delight; the sight is so novel, and the birds that have taken
+wing sweep so gracefully around their rocky haunts, that there is a
+charm, past explaining, in the whole scene.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the tide is rising fast and floats the boat onward to White
+Cove. They are making for a landing-place just at the foot of the
+sea-birds' cliff, and Tim pulls cautiously, telling Claude to keep a
+sharp look-out for the rocks that lie treacherously hiding under the
+flood.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the Chair!" cries Bee suddenly. "Look, Empey, we are quite
+close to it! It was Mr. Carey who gave it that name, because you see
+it's exactly like a chair, and it has a seat, and a little ledge where
+your feet may rest. Mr. Carey got up there once; it's quite easy to
+climb."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>"At high water the tide comes almost up to the footstool of the Chair,"
+says Tim. "I've noticed it standing up out of the sea with a bird or two
+perched on its seat. It looks very funny then, when all the rocks near
+it are quite covered."</p>
+
+<p>"It really is curious," Claude is beginning to say, when there is a bump
+and a terrible grating noise. The boat has struck against one of those
+traitorous rocks, and her rotten planks have given way. Long before they
+can reach the landing-place she will be full of water; there is already
+a stream flowing in through the rent in her side, and Tim, quiet and
+cool, takes in every detail of the case before Claude has begun fully to
+realise their condition. Without a moment's hesitation he pulls straight
+towards the little strip of sand that is to be seen at the base of the
+Chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick, Claude," he says in decided tones, "the wind is rising, and the
+tide is coming in fast. You must get Bee up into the Chair, and you'll
+have to follow her; although there's hardly room for two."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean that we shall have to stay up there till the tide goes
+out?" asks Claude. "Why, it's absurd! Is there no other way to&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"There <i>is</i> no other way to save your lives, so far as I can see. Now
+don't lose time; the Chair isn't so easy to climb, after all. There are
+little dents in the rock where your toes may go, but no projections
+anywhere. It's just a smooth block of stone."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Bee, who knows that Tim must have good reasons for being serious,
+tries to obey him without delay. But how could she ever have fancied
+that this dreadful rock was easy to climb! It is nearly as slippery as
+glass, and affords so little hold for hands or feet that she is almost
+in despair. The boys encourage her with their voices; Claude is
+scrambling up after her&mdash;not without difficulty, however, for his
+sprained wrist gives him many a sharp twinge. And then at last, after
+terrible efforts, the "footstool" ledge is gained, and Bee drags herself
+up to the seat of the chair.</p>
+
+<p>But what a seat it is! Merely a niche which looks as if it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> had been
+scooped out of the solid stone and furnished with a narrow shelf. How
+will it be possible for her to make herself very small, and leave space
+for Claude?</p>
+
+<p>Even in these fearful moments she finds herself thinking of the eleven
+swan princes in the fairy tale, and that little rock in mid ocean on
+which they stood crowded together when the sun went down. Claude is
+here, squeezed into the narrow niche by her side, and he is calling out
+to Tim, down below.</p>
+
+<p>"Come up, Tim," he cries, and there is a ring of agony in his voice now.</p>
+
+<p>But Tim's answer reaches them, clear and loud, above the roar of the
+advancing tide.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not come; there isn't room for three. You know that well
+enough."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Tim, what will you do? I'll come down, and give you my place."</p>
+
+<p>"Stay where you are," Tim shouts sternly. "You've got Bee to take care
+of. And there's a heavy sea rolling in, she'll have to sit fast."</p>
+
+<p>As Tim speaks the flood is surging up to his knees, and the wind, too,
+is rising higher and higher. All around him the waves are foaming over
+the sunken rocks, and the sea-thunder grows louder and more terrible
+every moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll come down," cries Claude, making a desperate movement to descend.
+"You sha'n't stop there and drown alone! Do you think I'll be such a
+hound as to let you?"</p>
+
+<p>But Bee with all her strength, holds him back. "Empey, <i>dear</i> Empey,"
+she moans, "stay for my sake!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take my chance," Tim sings out cheerily. "I can swim; I mean to
+try for the landing-place."</p>
+
+<p>"You're mad; the tide will dash you on the rocks!" groans Claude, in
+despair. And then, so slight is his foothold that he nearly loses his
+balance in looking downward; and Bee, clinging to him, screams with
+terror.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't bear it!" he says wildly.</p>
+
+<p>How fast the waters rise! Great waves are breaking against the sides of
+the Chair, and leaping up nearer and nearer to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> the ledge whereon the
+pair support their feet. Once more Claude calls to Tim, passionately,
+almost fiercely,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I'll never forgive myself if you are lost! Tim, Tim, where are you?"</p>
+
+<p>And the clear voice comes up, somewhat faintly, from below. "It's all
+right. God bless you and Bee."</p>
+
+<p>A mighty billow flings its cloud of foam over the faces of Claude and
+the shrinking girl by his side, and blinds them with salt spray. But
+high as the tide is, the Chair is still above its reach, and although
+the wave may sprinkle them, it cannot swallow them up. Only they are
+deafened as well as blinded, and Bee feels that she is losing her
+senses. Surely her brain is wandering, else she could never hear the
+notes of the anthem again, and Tim's voice singing the words of the old
+psalm in such exulting tones,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than
+the mighty waves of the sea."</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>When night is closing over the little watering-place there are
+rejoicings and lamentations in Nelson Lodge. Aunt Hetty's heart is full
+of gratitude; Claude and Bee brought safely home by old Drake, have
+fallen asleep at last in their rooms, while she steals from chamber to
+chamber to look first at one tired young face and then at the other. But
+the tears hang on Claude's lashes as he sleeps; and more than once Bee
+moves restlessly on her pillow and murmurs Tim's name.</p>
+
+<p>The wind, that has been blowing hard all through the night, subsides
+soon after sunrise. Clouds clear away from the east, and the golden
+morning shines upon the creamy cliffs of White Cove. Just at the foot of
+one of the low rocks lies Tim; his brown face turned up to the sky, and
+his curly hair matted with sea-weed. His life-work is done.</p>
+
+<p>Only Tim;&mdash;yes, Master Claude; but what would the world be without such
+souls as Tim's? Fine manners, fine speech, and fine clothes, of these he
+had none, but he had what glorifies the earth's greatest sons, he had
+what the angels rank highly and what God loves, a brave, true, unselfish
+heart.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a name="SMITHS_SISTER" id="SMITHS_SISTER"></a>SMITH'S SISTER</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A STORY BY A BOY ABOUT A GIRL.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ROBERT OVERTON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Before I tell you the story about Smith's sister in particular (said
+Stanislaus Yarrow), I wish to make a few remarks about sisters in
+general.</p>
+
+<p>Sisters are of two kinds&mdash;your own and other fellows'. There are
+boys&mdash;especially older ones&mdash;who consider their own sisters worse than
+other fellows' sisters.</p>
+
+<p>("Hear, hear," cried Martin Abbott, who was strongly suspected of having
+fallen in love with Dr. Audlem's maiden aunt, who was not much more than
+forty).</p>
+
+<p>But the general opinion amongst boys is that all sisters&mdash;all girls, in
+fact&mdash;are muffs and nuisances.</p>
+
+<p>("So they are," agreed a number of voices cordially).</p>
+
+<p>I thought so myself once. But Smith's sister taught me to take a higher
+view of girls. I admit that they have defects&mdash;they can't help 'em.
+There are times when I doubt if even boys are perfect. I freely admit
+that there is a certain amount of idiocy in the ways and manners of
+girls in general. Far be it from me to deny that they squeak and squeal
+when there is no occasion for squeaking and squealing. There is no use
+in denying that they are afraid of mice. Even Smith's sister visibly
+shuddered when I offered to give her my biggest piebald rat, to be her
+very own for ever. But we ought to be charitable and try to overlook
+these things, for, as I said just now, they can't help 'em.</p>
+
+<p>What I insist upon is that there's real grit in girls all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> same.
+This is how I work it out: Smith's sister was a brick&mdash;Smith's sister is
+a girl&mdash;therefore, as one girl can be a brick, so can other girls, other
+sisters, be bricks.</p>
+
+<p>Now for my true yarn. To separate the circumstances of the story from
+the story itself, I will first give you the circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>Smith and I lived next door to each other, and were close chums,
+especially at intervals. He was a very generous chap&mdash;he'd give a friend
+anything he'd got. When he was laid low with illness last summer, I
+slipped into his bedroom by way of the verandah, to have a look at him,
+and he gave me the scarlet fever. He was such a very generous chap that
+he never wanted to keep anything all to himself. The fever stayed with
+both of us as long as it could, and left us a good deal weaker than it
+found us. Finding us both in need of a long and thorough change, Smith's
+father and mine put their heads together, and finally decided to send us
+to North Wales for the rest of the summer and the autumn. The idea was
+promptly carried out.</p>
+
+<p>They didn't, strictly speaking, "send" us, for they came with us. In
+fact, it was quite a carriage-ful of us that steamed away north-west
+from Paddington&mdash;namely, Smith, myself, Smith's father and mother, my
+father and mother, a number of boxes, portmanteaux, and parcels, and
+Smith's sister. I put her last because at the time she was last in my
+estimation.</p>
+
+<p>We had a lovely journey, to a lovely little out-of-the-way and
+out-of-the-world station, which was spelt with all consonants, and
+pronounced with three sneezes, a cough and two gasps. From the station
+we had a long drive to the remote farmhouse in which our fathers had
+taken apartments.</p>
+
+<p>In this delicious old farmhouse we soon made ourselves&mdash;Smith and
+I&mdash;quite at home. It was in a beautiful valley. Tremendous hills rose
+all round it. On the very tops of some of the mountains there was snow
+almost all the year round. Glens, and brooks, and streams, and
+waterfalls simply abounded.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>After a fortnight our two fathers had to return to London, leaving
+behind them our mothers, us, and Smith's sister.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, what a time we had then! Smith shot me by accident in the leg with
+the farmer's gun&mdash;Smith himself got almost drowned in two different
+streams, and was once carried over a waterfall, and dashed against the
+stones. On all three occasions he was getting black in the face when
+pulled out. I fell down a precipice in the mountains, and was rescued
+with the greatest difficulty. On another occasion a neighbouring farmer
+caught us trespassing, and thrashed us with a stick till he was too
+tired to hold it any longer. Smith got bitten by a dog supposed to be
+mad, and a horse kicked me in the stomach.</p>
+
+<p>All was gaiety and excitement. Ah! when shall we have such times again?
+We made inquiries as to whether we were likely to catch scarlet fever a
+second time.</p>
+
+<p>Now Smith's sister screamed at our accidents; she was afraid to join us
+in any of our adventures. She was as old as myself, and only a year
+younger than Smith, but as timid as a chicken&mdash;or so we thought her, for
+so she seemed. We tried at first to encourage her, to bring her out a
+little; but it was no good&mdash;we just had to leave her to herself.</p>
+
+<p>"She hasn't pluck enough to come with us," Smith used to say as we set
+off on our rambles&mdash;"let her stop at home and play with the fowls."</p>
+
+<p>You must understand that we didn't dislike her&mdash;we simply despised her.
+I think contempt is worse than dislike&mdash;at all events, it is harder to
+bear. Week after week passed away, till at length the end of September
+approached. In a few days we were to go home again.</p>
+
+<p>Now high as all the hills were, there was one that towered above the
+others. From the very first, Smith and I had been warned not to attempt
+to scale this monarch of the mountains, whose crown was sometimes
+visible, sometimes hidden in the clouds. Being warned not to do it, we
+naturally wanted to do it. We had made, in fact, several tries, but had
+always been frustrated. Once or twice Mr. Griffiths&mdash;the farmer at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+whose house we were staying&mdash;caught us starting, and turned us back.</p>
+
+<p>"Up towards the top of that mountain," he said, on the last occasion,
+"is a place so difficult of access, except by one way, that it is called
+the 'Eagles' Home.' Lives have been lost there. The hill is
+dangerous&mdash;the clefts are steep and deep. Leave it alone. There are
+plenty of other hills to climb that are not so dangerous."</p>
+
+<p>That reference to the Eagles' Home was more than we could stand. We
+could make out the very spot he meant. Fancy being up there with the
+eagles near the sky&mdash;fancy birds-nesting in the clouds!</p>
+
+<p>"Yarrow," said Smith firmly, "we must do it."</p>
+
+<p>"Or perish in the attempt," I agreed recklessly, quoting from a book I'd
+read.</p>
+
+<p>What we meant was, of course, that before our visit ended we must climb
+that hill, at all events as high as the Eagles' Home.</p>
+
+<p>Our approaching return to London left us with no time to lose. We had
+only four clear days before us.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll make the ascent immediately after dinner to-morrow," said Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are," replied I.</p>
+
+<p>The next day arrived. Dinner was always over soon after one at the
+farmhouse, and by two o'clock, having slipped quietly and secretly off,
+we were beginning our climb up the hillside. For more than an hour we
+made slow but easy progress, taking a rest every now and then for a
+minute or two. We must have got up a considerable distance, but neither
+the mountain-top nor the Eagles' Home seemed much nearer. On and up we
+trudged, walking faster and determined to take no more rests. We noticed
+how much colder it was, and cast uneasy glances at the dipping sun.</p>
+
+<p>We met a shepherd going down, and stopped him to ask some questions. He
+told us that there was an easy way and a hard way to reach the Eagles'
+Home. The easy way was to follow the path worn up the hill to the left.
+That would take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> us <i>above</i> the spot. Still following the path as it
+curved round to the right, we should find a comparatively easy way down
+to the "home of the eagles," unless we lost the road, and tumbled down
+one of the many steep declivities.</p>
+
+<p>"Which was the hard way?" we asked.</p>
+
+<p>With a smile, he pointed straight up the mountain-side. It wasn't far
+that way, he said&mdash;only that way would take us farther than we wanted to
+go. We looked up the frowning pathless mountain&mdash;and knew what he meant.
+We must take the safer and longer way.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that we're <i>afraid</i> of the other," said Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>In vain the shepherd tried to dissuade us from going any further in the
+failing light: in vain he told us of the dangers we should run. We
+thanked him, put him off with some excuse about going "a little"
+further, and turned resolutely on up the "path" he had pointed us to. It
+was by no means the sort of path we were accustomed to.</p>
+
+<p>On and on and on&mdash;I don't know how far we went. But the farther we went
+the more silent we became. Each knew the other knew that he was getting
+more and more uneasy at every step. Each knew the other wasn't going to
+be the first to admit that he was funky.</p>
+
+<p>It grew so awfully cold. It became so awfully dark.</p>
+
+<p>"The moon will be up by-and-by," Smith said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said I; "we shall be all right then. What's this?"</p>
+
+<p>It was too dark to see it, but we felt it in our faces. We put our hands
+on our sleeves and felt it there.</p>
+
+<p>Snow!</p>
+
+<p>We both gave in then, and funked it without disguise. We turned to go
+down, to get home. We tried at first to disbelieve it, but it wasn't
+long before we both gave up the pretence.</p>
+
+<p>"We're lost!" we cried together.</p>
+
+<p>That was just our position. In the cold, dark night, in the midst of a
+rapidly-rising storm and fast-falling snow, we were lost on the wild
+Welsh mountains.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>We stumbled about. For a long time&mdash;I don't know how long, but it was a
+long time&mdash;we stumbled about. That is the only expression I can use, for
+soon we didn't know whether we were moving up or down, left or right. We
+were so numbed, so bewildered. It was so cold up there, though October
+had not yet set in, that we had a vague idea that if we didn't keep on
+moving we should be frozen still, meeting the fate of many other
+mountaineers.</p>
+
+<p>You must bear in mind that we had nothing to eat, nothing to drink, and
+only our summer clothes on. Neither of us had a watch, so we could only
+judge what the time was. Smith's hope that the moon would soon rise
+hadn't been realised, for everything above was as dark and black as
+everything was beneath.</p>
+
+<p>At last a frightful thing happened. Our feet slipped at the same moment,
+and the next moment we were both falling through space. My previous slip
+down a precipice was nothing compared with that awful fall in the
+darkness. Only one thing saved us. Before we struck the ground, we
+managed to break the full force of our fall by grasping the roots and
+branches of some low-growing shrubs and bushes which we felt without
+seeing. We slipped then less rapidly from hold to hold, until, with a
+thud, we struck the earth. It seemed more like the earth striking us.</p>
+
+<p>Smith gave a loud scream of pain&mdash;then all was silent.</p>
+
+<p>Smith fainted. I cried. Smith recovered and cried. I left off crying,
+and took his turn at fainting. There's nothing like telling the truth.
+We both prayed. I won't tell you about that, because praying is a thing
+to <i>do</i>, not to talk about.</p>
+
+<p>We didn't move about any more. That fall proved that moving about was
+too dangerous. Poor old Smith <i>couldn't</i> move. He couldn't even stand
+up. He tried to once and sank down again with a yell. He had sprained
+his ankle.</p>
+
+<p>Please imagine for a moment that this adventure is being played on the
+stage, and let the curtain fall. Now imagine the curtain raised again.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, the storm has died down. The winds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> are not howling
+now, the snow is not falling. The heavens above us are not so black we
+can see parts of the mountain that drops from our feet into the deep
+invisible valley below. We can see enough to make out where we are. We
+are in the Eagles' Home. Our ambition has been realised&mdash;but in what a
+way! We reached the spot neither by the pathway nor up the rugged
+steep&mdash;we rolled from the top; we came through the air with the
+snowflakes.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty snowflakes! Smith is hopelessly crippled, and I&mdash;the other
+snowflake&mdash;am simply a living collection of bumps and bruises. We must
+spend the rest of the bleak night strung up on this dizzy height. We
+must wait till the morning&mdash;if we can live through the night.</p>
+
+<p>What's that, down there&mdash;far away down there?</p>
+
+<p>A light! a number of lights. They're moving&mdash;moving up. They've reached
+the spot where we met the shepherd who told us of the two ways.</p>
+
+<p>They've stopped. Hark! What's that?</p>
+
+<p>A shout&mdash;a hail&mdash;loud and long continued, as though a lot of people are
+calling together.</p>
+
+<p>Hurrah! We're saved. The farmer has turned out a rescue party to find
+and save us. Hurrah!</p>
+
+<p>Gathering all my strength&mdash;all I have left&mdash;I answer the hail. Smith
+joins me as well as he can. Once, twice, thrice we shout. We catch the
+distant cry that tells us we have been heard.</p>
+
+<p>For a minute the lights are stationary. Then&mdash;their bearers sending up
+another great hail as though to tell us they know where we are and are
+coming&mdash;we see the lanterns flashing forward up the track which leads
+above our heads, and then round to the Eagles' Home. Mr. Griffiths, who
+knows the hills as well as he knows his own farm lands, has told them
+where we are from the direction of our frantic voices.</p>
+
+<p>So cheer up, Smith&mdash;they're coming.</p>
+
+<p>But they'll be such a long time coming&mdash;and we're so cold and numbed.
+Smith is fainting again. So am I, I'm afraid&mdash;you must remember I am
+knocked about. It will be such a long time before the coming help
+reaches us.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>Will it? Then what's that solitary light stealing up the jagged steep
+below us? Who is it coming to us by the "hard" way, straight up the
+precipitous mountain-side? It must be Griffiths&mdash;he's crawling up the
+rough boulders&mdash;he's clinging hold of roots and branches, swinging
+himself over the clefts. The shepherd said it couldn't be done&mdash;but
+Griffiths is doing it. How torn his hands must be!</p>
+
+<p>I can't be quite fainting, because I can see that Griffiths' lantern is
+coming nearer and nearer.</p>
+
+<p>Listen! I can hear his voice&mdash;only it sounds such a weak voice. That is
+because I am getting so weak now myself, though I manage to call back,
+that Griffiths may know just where we are....</p>
+
+<p>Griffiths has reached us. Griffiths is attending to poor old Smith. Now
+he's got his arm round me. Griffiths is pouring a cordial down my throat
+that brings life back into me. I can feel my heart beating again. I'm
+better now. I'll shake Griffiths by the hand. I dare say I shall
+by-and-by. But this is the hand of <span class="smcap">Smith's Sister</span>!</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>The strain of this theatrical style, and of the present tense, is more
+than I can stand any longer, so I hope it is quite clear to you what had
+happened. Just a few words to sum up.</p>
+
+<p>When the rescue party formed by Mr. Griffiths&mdash;as soon as it was obvious
+that Smith and I had lost ourselves&mdash;set out, Smith's sister set out
+with them. Griffiths ordered her back. She went back, collared a lantern
+and a flask all to herself (in view of the party separating&mdash;what a
+thoughtful girl!), followed and rejoined them. When they stopped and
+halloaed to find whereabouts we were, he ordered her back again, but not
+until she had heard the hasty consultation which resulted in the party
+sticking to the safer way to us. She heard about the "two ways," and she
+dared the one that everybody else was afraid of. The ascent up the
+mountain's face was suggested, but only Smith's sister had the pluck to
+make it. This was the girl we had scorned and laughed at. This was the
+girl whom we had told to stop at home and play with the chickens!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>About an hour after she reached us with the "first help" that may have
+saved our lives, we saw the lights of Griffith's party on the crest
+above us. We exchanged shouts, and they let down a rope at once, and
+hauled us up. Long before this, Smith's sister had bound up his injured
+ankle neatly and lightly with her own handkerchief and our
+handkerchiefs.</p>
+
+<p>You should have seen the farmer's face&mdash;and, indeed, the faces of all
+the others too&mdash;when they realised how she had reached us.</p>
+
+<p>It is all very well for her to say that she didn't know what she was
+doing&mdash;that she couldn't have done in the light what she did in the
+dark. All I am concerned with is the fact that she did do what I have
+told you she did.</p>
+
+<p>Referring to the proposition I laid down soon after I started&mdash;about
+there being real grit in girls after all&mdash;you will understand what I
+meant when I wind up my yarn with the familiar quotation, Q.&nbsp;E.&nbsp;D.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_COLONELS_BOY" id="THE_COLONELS_BOY"></a>THE COLONEL'S BOY.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY H. HERVEY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Marjorie had never got on well with her brother's guardian. He was a
+bachelor, stern and autocratic, and with no admiration for woman's ways,
+and she instinctively felt that he did not understand her.</p>
+
+<p>His love for Miles Weyburne, the son of a brother officer who had fallen
+in a skirmish with an Indian frontier tribe thirteen years ago, was a
+thing recognised and beyond question.</p>
+
+<p>Even at the age of ten the boy's likeness to his father had been
+remarkable. He had the same dark, earnest eyes, the same frank, winning
+manner, the same eager enthusiasm; he was soon to develop, to the secret
+pride of his guardian, the same keen interest in his profession, with a
+soundness of judgment and a fearless self-reliance peculiarly his own.</p>
+
+<p>He had gained his star after scarcely a year's service, and had then got
+an exchange into his guardian's regiment.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Alleson held the command of a midland regimental district. He
+had the reputation of being somewhat of a martinet, and was not
+altogether popular with his men.</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie generally spent her holidays with her aunt in the town, and the
+Colonel occasionally went to see her; but he was nervous and
+constrained, with little to say for himself, and Marjorie always did her
+best to show to a disadvantage when he was there. "He's such a crabby
+old thing," she would say, when Miles grew enthusiastic over the grave,
+taciturn officer,&mdash;"besides, he hates girls, you know he does, and I'm
+not going to knuckle under to him." Her brother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> had explained that the
+Colonel's ideas were old-fashioned, so she sometimes talked slang on
+purpose to shock him. She listened to his abrupt, awkward sentences with
+a half listless, half criticising air. She was a typical school-girl at
+the most characteristic age,&mdash;quick to resent, impatient of control,
+straightforward almost to rudeness. The Colonel might be a father to her
+brother&mdash;he never could be to her. She often thought about her father
+and mentally contrasted the two: she thought, too, though less often, of
+the mother who had died the very day that that father had fallen in
+action, when she herself was little more than a year old.</p>
+
+<p>Miles had been spending his leave with his aunt, and the day before his
+return to Ireland to rejoin the battalion, he biked over to the barracks
+in company with his sister to say good-bye to his guardian.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose this is another of the Colonel's fads," Marjorie remarked,
+glancing at the notice board as she got off her bicycle outside the
+gates. "What an old fuss he is, Miles."</p>
+
+<p>"Has he been giving you a lesson in manners?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not he." She tossed back her wavy, golden-brown hair as she spoke. "I
+should like to see him try it on."</p>
+
+<p>Miles gave a short little laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"He got into an awful rage the other day because somebody came through
+here on a bicycle. How are you to read the notice all that way off?"</p>
+
+<p>Miles was not listening to her. Hearing the sound of wheels, he had
+turned round and caught sight of the Colonel's dog-cart. Marjorie
+glanced mischievously at him, and just as the Colonel entered the
+gateway, she deliberately mounted her bicycle and rode through before
+his eyes. There was just room for her to pass. The Colonel reined in,
+and looked sternly round. "Stop!" he said. Marjorie obeyed. Wheeling her
+bicycle forward, she said in her politest manner:</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon. Did you want me?"</p>
+
+<p>"This is quite contrary to regulations."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know," she answered, looking straight at him. "I read the
+notice, but I don't see the sense of it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>There were one or two soldiers standing near, and they exchanged glances
+and smiled. Miles coloured up with shame and vexation. The Colonel gave
+the reins to his groom and got down without another word. He held out
+his hand to Miles as the dog-cart passed on.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to speak to you," he said shortly, and he walked on in front of
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I shall see you again, Miles," he began, as they ascended the
+steps leading to his quarters. "I have only a few minutes to spare now.
+Come up this evening, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Colonel."</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie moved towards the door. The colour mounted to her cheeks as the
+Colonel stepped forward to open it for her. Miles, feeling that he ought
+to say something, waited behind a minute.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry about&mdash;about this," he said. "I don't understand it."</p>
+
+<p>"I do, perfectly&mdash;well, good-bye, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>His grave, stern face softened wonderfully as he grasped Miles' hand.</p>
+
+<p>"What an old crosspatch he is," began Marjorie as her brother came up
+with her. "I daren't for the life of me ride through there again. Did
+you see, Miles, he was quite white with rage when I cheeked him? Those
+Tommies thought it awful sport."</p>
+
+<p>"What a little ass you are," said Miles crossly, "to make all that row
+before the men."</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie looked away. "It served him jolly well right," she said,
+pedalling faster.</p>
+
+<p>They rode home the rest of the way in silence.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>Miles was away with his battalion at the front, and Marjorie was
+spending a fortnight of the Christmas holidays with a school friend at
+Eastbourne. The two girls were hurrying down the esplanade together one
+bright, frosty morning in January when Marjorie suddenly found herself
+face to face with the Colonel. His eyes were bent down, and he passed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>
+without recognising her. With a few hurried words to her chum, she ran
+after him.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Colonel? I didn't know you were here."</p>
+
+<p>He started as she addressed him. "I only came yesterday," he said; "I
+have got a few days' leave."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear from Miles last mail? I did."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He has been very regular so far."</p>
+
+<p>"You must miss him awfully. Are you going this way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll come a little way with you, if I may; I wanted to say
+something."</p>
+
+<p>Putting her hands into her jacket pockets, she looked very gravely at
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry I was rude that day I came into the Barracks," she said
+hurriedly. "I have been thinking about it. It was horrid of me, when the
+soldiers were there. Will you forgive me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," he said nervously, putting his hands behind him, and
+walking faster.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, I want to be friends with you," she added frankly, "because of
+Miles. He thinks such a lot of you&mdash;the dear boy; good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>Her dark eyes, generally so mocking and mischievous, had grown suddenly
+earnest, and his heart warmed towards her, as he held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, Marjorie," he said, "you are very much alike, you and Miles."</p>
+
+<p>"Are we?" she said simply, flushing a little. "I didn't know. I am
+glad."</p>
+
+<p>She walked back to her chum with a beating heart. "He's not so bad," she
+said to herself. "I wish he liked girls."</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>Spion Kop had been abandoned, and the British Army was in orderly
+retreat, when Miles found himself cut off with the remnant of his
+company, by the enemy. The death of his captain had left him in command,
+and realising his responsibility, he made up his mind to act promptly.
+"We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> are cut off, men," he explained briefly to his soldiers; "will you
+hoist the white flag, or trust to me to bring you through?"</p>
+
+<p>"No surrender, and we stand by you, sir," answered the serjeant major
+gruffly. "Is it agreed, boys?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a general assent.</p>
+
+<p>It was a gallant deed, that desperate dash to rejoin the division,
+though accomplished at a terrible cost. Miles, leading the forlorn hope,
+was soon to pay the price of his daring. They were all but through when
+he fell, shot by a chance bullet.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later his battered troops came up with the British forces. Three
+or four stragglers dropped into camp as the serjeant major was making
+his report.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said the colonel, expressively&mdash;"you got through?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, beastly hard work, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Who brought you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lieutenant Weyburne, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so. He's the kind of fellow for that sort of thing. Is he
+in?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was shot, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Shot, poor boy. What will Alleson say?"</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>It was Wednesday morning, and the entire strength of the Dep&ocirc;t had
+turned out on parade. The Colonel, tall and dignified in the faultless
+neatness of undress uniform, was standing in his characteristic
+attitude, with his hands behind him and his head thrown slightly back.
+His blue eyes looked out, grave and watchful, from under the peak of his
+fatigue cap, and the tense interlocking of his gloved fingers was the
+only sign of his mental unrest.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the vision of Miles was before him&mdash;Miles bold, earnest,
+high-spirited, Miles in the full joy of life and strength, with the
+light of affection in his eyes; Miles again with his boyish face white
+and drawn and his active young form still in death.</p>
+
+<p>He had loved the boy, his boy as he always called him, more even than he
+had realised, and life seemed very blank without the hope of seeing him
+again.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>It was two days since his name had appeared in the lists of killed and
+wounded, and that afternoon the Colonel went down to see Marjorie, who
+had returned from Eastbourne a few days before. She looked unusually
+pale when she came into the room, and though she ran forward eagerly
+enough to greet him, her eyes were tearful and her lips quivering, as
+she put her hand into his.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought of writing to you"&mdash;began the Colonel nervously, "but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you came," said Marjorie, "very glad. I shouldn't mind so much
+if we knew just how he died," she added sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>"We know how he would face death, Marjorie!"</p>
+
+<p>She put her arms on the table, and hid her face with a stifled sob.</p>
+
+<p>"He was your boy, and you'll miss him so," she went on. "There's no one
+like him, no one half so dear or half so brave. If I were only a boy I
+might try to be like him and make you happy&mdash;but I can't, it's no use."</p>
+
+<p>She was looking up at him with those dark eyes of hers, just as his boy
+had looked at him when he said good-bye three months ago, and he could
+not trust himself to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you get used to things," she said with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel put his hand on her head. "Poor child," he said in a husky
+voice, "don't think about me."</p>
+
+<p>"Miles loved you," she answered softly, going up close to him. "I'm his
+sister. Let me love you, too."</p>
+
+<p>He drew her to him in a tender fatherly manner, that brought instant
+comfort to her aching, wilful little heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Your father was my friend, Marjorie," he said,&mdash;"the staunchest friend
+man ever had. I have often wondered why we failed to understand each
+other."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't like girls," said Marjorie, "that's why."</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel smiled grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't," he said. "Perhaps I have changed my mind."</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>Lord Roberts had entered Pretoria, and the Colonel sat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> in his quarters
+looking through the list of released prisoners. All at once he gave a
+start, glanced hastily around, and then looked back again. About half
+way down the list of officers, he read:</p>
+
+<p>"Lieut. M. Weyburne (reported killed at Spion Kop)."</p>
+
+<p>Miles was alive: there had been some mistake. The bugle sounded. It was
+a quarter past nine. He walked out on to the parade-ground with his
+usual firm step, smiling as he went. Miles was alive. He could have
+dashed down the barrack-square like a bugler-boy in the lightness of his
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>People who met him that day hastened to congratulate him. He said very
+little, but looked years younger.</p>
+
+<p>Three weeks later there came a letter from Miles, explaining how he had
+been left upon the ground for dead, and on coming to himself, had fallen
+unarmed into the hands of the Boers. He had never fully recovered from
+his wounds, and by the doctor's orders had been invalided home, so that
+his guardian might expect him about ten days after receiving his letter.</p>
+
+<p>It was a happy home-coming. The Colonel went down to Southampton to meet
+him, and when he reached his aunt's house he found a letter from
+Marjorie awaiting him. "The Colonel's a dear," she wrote; "I understand
+now why you think such a lot of him."</p>
+
+<p>Miles turned with a smile to his guardian.</p>
+
+<p>"You and Marjorie are friends at last, Colonel," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my boy," he returned gravely; "we know each other better now."</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="TWIXT_LIFE_AND_DEATH" id="TWIXT_LIFE_AND_DEATH"></a>'TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A MANX STORY.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY CLUCAS JOUGHIN.</h3>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="TWIXT_LIFE_AND_DEATH_I" id="TWIXT_LIFE_AND_DEATH_I"></a>PART I.</h4>
+
+<p>Deborah Shimmin was neither tall nor fair, and yet Nature had been kind
+to her in many ways. She had wonderful eyes&mdash;large, dark, and full of
+mute eloquence&mdash;and if her mouth was too large, her nose too irregular,
+and her cheeks too much tanned by rude health, and by exposure to the
+sun as the village gossips said, I, Henry Kinnish, poetic dreamer, and
+amateur sculptor, thought she had a symmetry of form and a grace of
+movement which wrought her whole being into harmony and made her a
+perfect example of beauty with a plain face; and every one knew that
+Andrew, the young village blacksmith and rural postman, loved her with
+all the might of his big, brawny soul.</p>
+
+<p>These two ideas of Deborah's beauty and Andrew's love for her, were
+revealed to me one day when, with Deborah's master, his lumbering sons
+and comely daughters, and my chum Fred Harcourt, an artist from "across
+the water," we were cutting some early grass in May, just before the
+full bloom of the gorse had begun to fade from the hillsides and from
+the tops of the hedges where it had made borders of gold for the green
+of the fields all the spring.</p>
+
+<p>A soft west wind, which blew in from the sea, made waves along the uncut
+grass to windward of the mowers, and played around the skirts of
+Deborah, making them flutter about her, while the exertion of the
+haymaking occasionally let loose her long, strong black hair.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>But the face of Deborah was sad; for the village policeman had laid a
+charge against her before his chief to make her account for her
+possession of a large number of seagulls' eggs, to take which the law of
+the Island had made a punishable offence, by an act of Tynwald passed to
+protect the sea fowl from extinction.</p>
+
+<p>The eggs, all fresh, and newly taken from the nests, had been found on
+Deborah's dressing-table; but Deborah indignantly denied all knowledge
+of the means by which they had got there. There was a mystery about it
+to every one, for fresh clutches were seen there every morning, and the
+innocent Deborah made no attempt to conceal them. Where, then, could
+they come from but from some nests of the colony of seagulls which lived
+in the haughs that dropped down into the sea from Rhaby Hills? But no
+woman, young or old, could climb the craigs where the gulls had their
+nests. It was a feat of daring only performed by reckless boys and young
+men who were reared on the littoral, and who were strong and spirited
+craigsmen by inheritance and by familiarity with the dangerous sport of
+egg-collecting among the giddy heights of precipices on which, if they
+took but one false step, they might be hurled to certain destruction
+below.</p>
+
+<p>When the mowers had made all but the last swath, and there were only a
+few more rucks of the early hay to be made in the field, Cubbin, the
+rural constable, came in from the highroad with Andrew, the smith. The
+hot and sweated mowers did not stop the swing of their scythes, but they
+talked loudly amongst themselves in imprecations against the new law
+which made it a criminal offence for a lad to take a few gull's eggs,
+which they, and their fathers before them, had gone sporting after in
+the good old times when men did what they thought right.</p>
+
+<p>The bronzed face of Deborah Shimmin paled, her lips set into a resolve
+of courage when she saw Andrew in the hands of the police; and I learnt
+for the first time that Andrew was looked upon as the robber and Deborah
+as the receiver of the stolen eggs. I saw more than this, I saw, by one
+look,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> that the heart of Deborah and the heart of the tall, lithe lad,
+who now stood before me, were as one heart in love and in determination
+to stand by each other in the coming trial.</p>
+
+<p>The big hands of the young smith were thrust into his pockets, and a
+smile played over his honest face; but Deborah looked at the constable
+with a hard, defiant look, and then bent over her work again as if
+waiting to hear him say something dreadful which she was resolved to
+throw back into his face, though her hand trembled as she held the fork,
+which moved now faster and stronger than before.</p>
+
+<p>But Cubbin was a man of the gospel of peace though he was an officer of
+the law, and he only looked sadly on the face of Deborah as he asked her
+whether it would not be better for her to say where she got her supply
+of eggs from than allow him to get a summons against Andrew.</p>
+
+<p>"I have told you before that Andrew never gave me the eggs!" cried the
+girl, her face flushed with the crimson setting of the sun, "and I don't
+know where they came from. I can't say anything different, and I wish
+you would not trouble me, Mr. Cubbin!"</p>
+
+<p>Fred and I called Cubbin, the constable, to one side, and asked him to
+allow us a day or two to solve the mystery of the eggs&mdash;a little
+arrangement which may seem strange to dwellers in towns, but which was
+quite practicable at this time in this far-off place, and which he soon
+agreed to allow.</p>
+
+<p>I had been out shooting corncrakes that day, and Fred Harcourt had come
+with me for a day in the meadows, as his brush and palette had wearied
+him of late, and he longed to stretch his limbs and to see my spaniels
+work in the weedy hedges and in the meadows, where the grass had stood
+the test of the dry spring. We had taken off our coats to help our
+neighbour with his sunburnt grass, and our guns were laid across them.
+The spaniels had fallen asleep&mdash;using the coats as beds. While
+conversing with Cubbin we had walked quietly to get our coats, and I saw
+that one of the sleeping dogs was still hunting in his dreams. There was
+nothing uncommon about this, for dogs will hunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> in their sleep; but
+some inner voice said to me that Deborah Shimmin, being a highly strung,
+nervous girl, might hunt in her sleep also, and that such things as
+somnambulists walking the roofs of high houses had been heard of, and I
+remembered a lad in my own boyhood's days who was awakened early one
+morning by the riverside with his rod in his hand and his basket slung
+over his nightshirt. But I did not communicate my theory of the solution
+of the mystery of the eggs to Cubbin, the constable.</p>
+
+<p>When the policeman left the field I entered into a kindly talk with
+Deborah Shimmin, and was not long in learning what the girl herself had
+probably never thought of, that on the public reading of the Act for the
+protection of sea-fowl, on the Tynwald day of the previous year, she had
+been impressed by the thought that Andrew would now be forbidden to
+employ his agility and his courage in a form of sport she often tried to
+dissuade him from.</p>
+
+<p>I knew before this that she had recently lost her mother, and had
+suffered a bereavement through a favourite brother being lost at sea one
+stormy night at the back-end herring fishing off Howth Head.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Deborah," I said to Fred, "she is all nerves, and the hand of
+life's troubles is holding her; surely she must be innocent of
+encouraging her lover in risking his life&mdash;the only precious life left
+to her now!"</p>
+
+<p>"And the jolly Andrew," said Fred, "certainly looked the most amusing
+picture of innocence, as Cubbin trotted him along the grass! But your
+theory of the somnambulant business is a bit fanciful, all the same."</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="TWIXT_LIFE_AND_DEATH_II" id="TWIXT_LIFE_AND_DEATH_II"></a>PART II.</h4>
+
+<p>At ten o'clock that night Fred Harcourt and I were bivouaced within
+sight of the only door of the house where Deborah Shimmin worked as a
+domestic help in the family of her uncle. The night was not dark, it
+seldom is dark in these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> northern islands so late in May, but there was
+a light of the moon at its first quarter, and a glint of some stars
+shone down upon us as we hearkened to the stillness of the air and to a
+frequent movement of a tired horse in the stable.</p>
+
+<p>Our bivouac was a clump of trammon trees (elders) at the corner of the
+orchard which adjoined the farm buildings. Between us and the dwelling
+house there was a disused pigsty. At about a quarter to eleven o'clock a
+man, with a red setter dog at his heels and a fowling piece on his arm,
+came sneaking up, and crept into the sty.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was another long spell of silence, not broken, but rather
+intensified, by the words which I whispered to Fred Harcourt that the
+fellow who crept into the sty was Kit Kermode, and that he could be
+after no good.</p>
+
+<p>At midnight a cock crew at the far end of the village, and a dog barked.
+Then there was silence again, save that every now and again a sedge
+warbler, far away by the stream near Shenvarla, sang a faintly audible
+song. Our position on the slope of the foot-hill at Gordon House was
+between the village and the hills which girt the sea coast. This made my
+theory of the sleep-walking to the cliffs more plausible. But while we
+lay low in the clump of trammon trees the appearance of Kit Kermode,
+with his cat-like walk and his eyes that could wink slander faster than
+any old woman's tongue could wag it, gave me a theory, or at least a
+speculation, in another direction.</p>
+
+<p>In soft whispers to Fred Harcourt, who was new to the village, I told
+him how the rascal Kermode hated Andrew the blacksmith. "He hates him,"
+I said, "I do verily believe, for his good honest face, his manly
+outspoken tongue, his courage, and his power of arm, but most of all he
+hates him since Andrew, years ago as an innocent and unthinking lad, ran
+after him in the village street and handed him a reminder of some money
+which he owed his master."</p>
+
+<p>"But what can that have to do with Deborah Shimmin's gulls' eggs?" asked
+Fred, whose mind never seemed to see anything but pictures of divers
+colours and inspiring outlines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> in the happy dreamland he lived in, all
+unconscious of the world's cruelty, and hate, and love of evil.</p>
+
+<p>I had just finished telling him that a man like Kermode might bribe a
+boy to get him gulls' eggs, and sneak up to Deborah's window and quietly
+reach in and place the eggs on her dressing-table, as a means of getting
+Deborah and Andrew into trouble. I had just finished giving this outline
+of the thought in my mind, I say, when the door of the farmhouse opened
+and Deborah Shimmin, clad only in her nightdress, stepped lightly forth
+and started up the hillside.</p>
+
+<p>The next moment the man, his gun in the hollow of his arm and the red
+setter dog at his heels, crawled forth from the pigsty, looked round as
+if to make certain he was not watched, and followed the white figure of
+the girl as she glided up the zig-zag path in the direction of the
+haughs which formed the wild sea coast.</p>
+
+<p>It did not take Fred and me very long to take off our boots and
+noiselessly follow, guided by the figure in white, rather than by the
+man who went before us, for the dim light of the moon and the northern
+night made his dark dress difficult to see in the shadows of the hedges
+and trees.</p>
+
+<p>I knew that Deborah would take the usual path to the rocks, and bade
+Fred follow close behind me while I took a shorter route. In ten minutes
+we were again under cover when the girl passed close by us, her long
+hair knotted roughly into a mass of rolls about her large and
+well-formed head. Her eyes were open, and fixed in a glassy stare
+straight ahead. She seemed to move along, rather than walk, and had no
+appearance of either hesitation or haste; and Kermode, with his dog and
+his gun, stealthily followed in her wake not twenty yards behind.</p>
+
+<p>While we were crossing the field bordering the Gordon haughs, keeping
+under the shadow of a gorse-clad hedge, Deborah disappeared over the
+cliff, and the man, watched by Fred and myself, crept up to the edge of
+the cliffs down which the poor girl had descended.</p>
+
+<p>Before another minute had elapsed, Kermode had stretched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> himself out
+his full length on a craig which overlooked the precipitous rocks down
+which Deborah had disappeared. We then secured the cover of a mound not
+thirty feet away from him.</p>
+
+<p>The dog gave a low whine when he saw the head of his master craned out
+to watch the movements of the white figure descending the rocks, and
+then all was quiet as before.</p>
+
+<p>Fred's suspense and anxiety for the safety of the girl was apparent in
+his hard breathing; but my own were inconsiderable, for I knew that if
+undisturbed by any noise unusual to the night, or any interference by
+the fellow who now held the future happiness of Andrew, the smith, in
+his hands she would safely climb up the haugh and make her way home to
+bed, all unconscious of the awful position she had placed herself in.</p>
+
+<p>Wicked as I knew the man to be, I did not now imagine that he had any
+other intention in watching around the house than to try to discover
+Andrew paying a nocturnal visit, with some gulls' eggs for his
+sweetheart. This would have been a mean enough act, but it seems a small
+thing beside the cruel and murderous deed he would have committed but
+for the providential presence and prompt action of Fred Harcourt and
+myself.</p>
+
+<p>Fred and I lay low, with our chins resting on our hands, not daring even
+to whisper. The dog whined a little now and again, and we heard the
+subdued cries of seagulls as they flew off, alarmed in the darkness,
+over the sea. Still Deborah did not make her appearance on the top of
+the cliff. It seemed a long time that we lay and watched thus, but it
+could not have been so long as it seemed.</p>
+
+<p>Then Kermode, without raising himself from watching the climbing girl,
+reached back for the gun which he had placed on the ground by his side.
+He raised it to the level of his face, resting his left elbow on the
+ground, and I heard the click of the hammer as he cocked it. Then I saw
+his thumb and finger go into his waistcoat pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" I said in a loud whisper, as I sprang to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> my feet, for I
+knew in one awful moment that the villain was feeling for a cap to
+discharge a shot in the air above the head of Deborah, who would wake up
+at the shock, and fall to the base of the craig in her terrible fright.
+So intent was Kermode in his fell design of frightening the girl to her
+destruction that he did not hear me, or notice the growl of his dog, or
+feel the vibration of our tread as we both bore down upon him. We should
+have been too late if it had not been for the life-long habit of the
+wretch to secure himself from danger or suspicion. With his finger on
+the trigger, all ready to pull, he paused one moment to raise himself
+and look about. That moment saved the life of Deborah Shimmin, for the
+would-be murderer was the next instant under the knee of Fred Harcourt
+and his throat in his grip, while my hand was over the nipples of the
+gun. While we were all on the ground together, and the setter dog had a
+hold of Harcourt's leg, the tall form of Cubbin, the policeman, bent
+over us. I had lowered the hammers of the gun and thrown it to one side
+to grasp the dog, for Harcourt would not let go his hold of Kermode's
+throat lest he should shout and wake the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Gag Kermode," I said to Cubbin, as I hit the dog just above the snout
+with a stone, killing him by one blow.</p>
+
+<p>Then Deborah Shimmin, holding something in a fold of her nightdress with
+one hand, and climbing with the other, came up over the edge of the
+cliff a few yards away from us.</p>
+
+<p>She looked very beautiful as she stepped up on the sloping sward above
+the haugh, with the pale moonlight just lighting her airy dress, and her
+face all sad and careworn.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving Kermode to the care of the constable, Fred and I noiselessly
+followed the girl home, and saw her step over the obstacles in her path
+as by instinct, turning her face neither to the right nor left.</p>
+
+<p>We decided to awaken her before she reached the door of the farmhouse,
+so that, according to the popular notion, she might never again become
+somnambulent.</p>
+
+<p>With this view I stepped before her as she approached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> the door, but was
+astonished to find that she paused as if my presence blocked the way
+before she yet saw me or touched me. But there was no misunderstanding
+the blank stare in her wonderful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>I gently put out my hand and took hers, as she put it out before her to
+feel the influence of a presence she could not see.</p>
+
+<p>She did not scream or faint. She awoke with a start, and let the eggs
+fall on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>At first she could not understand where she was, and just thought she
+was dreaming; but by degrees it came to her that she was standing before
+me in the pale moonlight when she thought she ought to be in bed.</p>
+
+<p>Then I softly told her where she had been in her sleep, keeping back all
+knowledge of Kermode's attempted revenge on Andrew, and how we had
+decided to awake her. Then, with a little pleasant laugh, we both told
+her that the mystery of the seagulls' eggs was solved, and that neither
+Andrew nor she would be troubled again.</p>
+
+<p>She fell to sobbing a little, and for the first time seemed to shiver
+with the cold; then she lifted the latch and we bade her good night.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing was done to Kermode, for the fellow swore he had no intention of
+discharging the gun, and we could not prove he had, though the case was
+clear enough in our eyes, and the deed would have been done had we not,
+in God's providence, been there to prevent it.</p>
+
+<p>Cubbin, the constable, it transpired afterwards, had overheard me giving
+my theory of the sleep-walking to Fred in the hayfield, and he, too, had
+been in hiding at the farm, and had watched and followed us all.</p>
+
+<p>So there was a wonderful story for him to tell of how Deborah had made
+good her defence against the charge he had laid against Andrew and her.
+And the beautiful Deborah with the plain face became the bride of the
+jolly Andrew, who was neither an artist nor an amateur sculptor, but
+only a village blacksmith who had an eye for beauty of form and
+character.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="ROSES_BIRTHDAY_PRESENT" id="ROSES_BIRTHDAY_PRESENT"></a>ROSE'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A TRUE STORY.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY MARIE E.&nbsp;C. DELBRASSINE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Where is Rose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Busy, as usual, with her mice and beetles, I suppose, father," answered
+Ethel; "we have not seen her all this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"She will probably be with you at teatime," said Dr. Sinclair, "after
+which I should like you to ask her to come to me for a little while in
+the surgery."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, father, I won't forget."</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Sinclair retreated again to his surgery, which was arranged also as
+his library, knowing that his willing helper would not fail to join him
+there.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot think," said Maud, Ethel's sister, "what that girl finds to
+interest her in all those horrid creatures&mdash;beetles and toads, and even
+snakes, when she can get one; the other day I saw her handling a
+slowworm as if it were a charming domestic pet. It was enough to make
+one feel cold all over."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there is no accounting for taste; Rose never seems to care if she
+is asked to a party or not," continued Ethel, "and she does not mind
+helping father with his work, which I always find so tiresome, for he is
+so dreadfully particular about it. Perhaps biologists are different from
+other folks; I sometimes think there is something uncannny and queer
+about them."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure Rose is neither uncanny nor queer, she's just a brick," said
+Jack, a schoolboy of fourteen, who was enjoying a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> Saturday half-holiday
+at home with a new book, it being too wet to play cricket. "She is
+always willing to do anything to help a fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Which means," said Ethel, "that you always expect girls to be your
+slaves, when you are at home."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door opened and Rose herself appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Rose," said Maud, "have you pinned out a beetle, or taught your
+pet ants to perform tricks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not this afternoon," said Rose; "I have had a delightful time with my
+microscope, studying spiders and drawing slides for the magic lantern to
+be used at my next little lecture to the G.F.S. girls."</p>
+
+<p>"That sounds dry and uninteresting," yawned Maud. "Ah, here comes tea.
+By the way, father would like you to go to his study afterwards. Poor
+Rose, I expect he has some more tiresome work for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't call it tiresome, Maud dear; I quite enjoy it."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good thing you do. I hate being shut up there; it's such a
+bore."</p>
+
+<p>A quarter of an hour later a middle-aged man, whose snow-white hair made
+him appear at first sight much older than he was in reality, might have
+been seen busy over a manuscript, whilst a fair girl sat beside him,
+reading out to him the notes he had made, and which he was working into
+the book he was writing. The two seemed to work in perfect harmony.</p>
+
+<p>Rose's father had been the rector of a remote country parish in
+Cornwall. Most of his friends said that he was lost in such a
+neighbourhood, and that it was a shame to have sent so able a man to
+such a parish; but Mr. Sinclair never complained himself; he may
+sometimes have thought it strange that other men were chosen before him
+to occupy positions which he felt conscious he might well have filled,
+but as his lot was cast in that Cornish nook, he had thrown himself
+heart and soul into whatever work he found to do. The affection he won
+from the rough fisherfolk, who regarded him as the father of the parish,
+whose joys and sorrows, cares and anxieties, were all well known to him,
+was as much to him as any brilliant worldly success.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> His means were
+small, too small for his generous heart. He wished to give as good an
+education as possible to his two children, Henry and Rose, and devoted
+much time and trouble to that end. For several years he taught the boy
+and girl together himself, Rose learning much the same lessons as her
+brother; this laid the foundation of the accuracy which characterised
+her in any task she undertook&mdash;a quality often lacking in feminine work.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sinclair had been a good student of natural history, and had written
+books and magazine articles which had been well thought of. Rose tried
+to follow her father's pursuit; she would spend hours in reading about
+birds and butterflies, and in making little researches herself. One of
+her greatest pleasures had been to help her father, either by taking
+notes for him or by writing at his dictation. She hoped herself some day
+to add to her pecuniary resources by writing for biological papers or
+even by giving lectures.</p>
+
+<p>But the happy home life in the Cornish rectory was to end all too
+quickly. Rose lost both her parents within a short time of each other;
+her brother was at Oxford, working hard; and Rose was left alone, and
+had to leave the home which was so dear to her.</p>
+
+<p>It was then that her uncle, Dr. Sinclair, without a moment's hesitation,
+offered her a home in his house. He did not listen to warning voices,
+cautioning him against burdening himself with the charge of another
+girl, for his own means were not large, and his family made many demands
+upon his purse. He was a physician whose career might have been a
+brilliant one had his practice been in London; but a fanciful and
+invalid wife had rendered this impossible, as she declared she could
+only exist in the pure air of the country.</p>
+
+<p>So he had reluctantly abandoned his cherished hope of working as a
+London doctor, and had settled near a small country town in
+Gloucestershire, where he soon obtained most of the practice round; but
+his scope was narrow. He nevertheless managed to keep in touch with his
+profession, a profession in which he had entered heart and soul, making<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>
+various scientific researches in his laboratory, and sending the fruit
+of them in clearly-written articles to medical papers. Now for this
+work, either in writing short articles from his notes, or from his
+dictation, a patient helper was of great assistance to him. His own
+daughters, as already seen, disliked the work, and showed their father
+no sympathy in it, whereas to Rose it was real enjoyment, filling, in a
+measure, the void she felt in no longer helping her father. Between
+uncle and niece a tacit sympathy had grown up. He encouraged her in her
+natural history pursuits, and helped her to start the lectures she gave
+to the G.F.S. girls in the neighbourhood. The suggestion had seemed
+little likely to interest them, but Rose had been so clear and explicit
+that the girls soon became eager for them.</p>
+
+<p>Time went on in this way, when something happened which was again to
+change Rose's circumstances. Truly it is that often trifles light as air
+have an unknown weight of importance in them. One morning the letter-bag
+brought a circular announcing that some "University Extension Lectures"
+were to be given at C&mdash;&mdash;, their nearest town, by a professor from
+Oxford, the subject chosen being "Spiders," with notes from the
+microscope.</p>
+
+<p>When Dr. Sinclair had read it, he passed it, smiling kindly, to Rose.</p>
+
+<p>"This is not for me," he said, "but I think I know some one whom it may
+interest."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, uncle! how delightful," said Rose, when she had looked at it; "the
+very thing I should enjoy!"</p>
+
+<p>So it came to pass that Rose attended the lectures, entering very fully
+into them, and taking careful notes.</p>
+
+<p>At the close of the course, the lecturer said he would like any of the
+students who felt sufficiently interested in the subject to write a
+paper, and send it in to him, giving a summary of the lectures, and
+asking any questions they might care to ask, at the end.</p>
+
+<p>Rose and several others responded to the invitation, and wrote their
+papers.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>For some time Rose heard no more about it, but one morning she was
+surprised to receive the following note:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>,&mdash;I have felt much satisfaction in reading your
+paper, which I return, with a few notes and answers to your
+questions. It shows me with what intelligent interest you
+have followed my lectures.</p>
+
+<p>"It may interest you to know that an examination for a
+scholarship at St. Margaret's Hall, the new college for
+women, is shortly to be held at Oxford; and if you care to
+pursue a subject for which you show much understanding, I
+would suggest your trying for it. I don't promise you
+success, but I think it is worth the venture. A friend of
+mine, a lady living in Oxford, receives lady students
+recommended by me, and would, I am sure, make you
+comfortable on very moderate terms. Yours truly,</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right;">"<span class="smcap">B. Fielding</span>."</p></div>
+
+<p>Rose read the letter two or three times and then passed it to her uncle.
+Had she the means to go there&mdash;if, oh, <i>if</i> she could only get the
+scholarship, how delightful it would be!</p>
+
+<p>"Come to my study," said Dr. Sinclair.</p>
+
+<p>And as soon as the door was shut he said kindly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like you to lose this opportunity, dear child, so write and
+tell Mr. Fielding you will go up to Oxford, if he will introduce you to
+the lady he mentions."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but, uncle," she said, "what Mr. Fielding may call moderate terms
+may really mean a great deal more than should be paid for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, little Rose," said Dr. Sinclair, "I meant to give my kind
+little helper a birthday present, and this shall be it."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear uncle, how kind of you. But remember, that whatever help, as you
+term it, I may have given you, has always been a pleasure to me."</p>
+
+<p>"And so, dear, is anything that I may do for you to me."</p>
+
+<p>Thus it was settled, and a few days later, Dr. Sinclair himself started
+for his own beloved Oxford with his niece. Jack and Maud went to the
+station to see them off.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep up your courage, Rose," said Jack, "you're pretty sure to pass,
+for if any girl in England knows about creepy, crawley things, you do!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>When Rose returned some days later, she looked rather overstrained and
+pale, and, to the surprise of Ethel and Maud, never looked at her
+microscope, or at any of her treasures in the way of beetles and
+tadpoles, but spent her time in complete idleness, except when she
+helped them to do up some of their evening clothes for some forthcoming
+dances; and they were surprised to see how deftly a biologist could sew.</p>
+
+<p>One Saturday, as the three girls were sitting working together, Jack,
+who was spending his half-holiday at home again, said, "Why, here comes
+the telegraph boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Run and see who it is for," said Ethel, who had lately shown much more
+sympathetic interest in Rose, and who began to realise that if Rose
+obtained what she was so keenly set on, she, as well as others, might
+miss the cousin who had been so kind and so unselfish an inmate of their
+home. "Run and see, Jack; and if it is for any of us, bring it here."</p>
+
+<p>Rose looked very white, but did not look up from her work.</p>
+
+<p>"Addressed to Miss Rose Sinclair," said Jack, who soon returned.</p>
+
+<p>Rose took the telegram with trembling fingers, and then tore it open.</p>
+
+<p>It announced the following:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Rose Sinclair passed first. Awarded scholarship St. Margaret's for
+three years.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Ethel!" said Rose, "it is too good to be true."</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you would pass," said Jack, "I always said you would, didn't I,
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Ethel, "we ought to be very glad for your sake."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Maud, "I congratulate you, Rose&mdash;but, I am very, very sorry
+you are going away."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you, dear?" said Rose; "I also shall feel lonely without all of
+you, in this my second home. But let us go and tell uncle, for I
+consider this his special birthday gift to me."</p>
+
+<p>"So it is," said Dr. Sinclair, who appeared at that moment.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>"Then your old uncle is much gratified in sending his niece to Oxford;
+but he will miss his little girl very much."</p>
+
+<p>Rose distinguished herself even far above Jack's expectation. After she
+had concluded her college course, she devoted her time and knowledge to
+giving lectures, for which she received remuneration, also to writing
+articles for magazines, and subsequent events led to her settling in
+Oxford. Whenever Dr. Sinclair wants an especially enjoyable holiday, he
+goes to spend a few days with Rose, and the two compare notes on their
+work. When he expresses his pleasure at her success, Rose loves to
+remind him that she owes it greatly to his kindness that she was placed
+in the way of obtaining it, through the birthday gift, which was to be
+so helpful to her.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="DOLLY_HARDCASTLES_ROSEBUDS" id="DOLLY_HARDCASTLES_ROSEBUDS"></a>DOLLY HARDCASTLE'S ROSEBUDS.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A CITY IDYLL</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY CHARLES E. PEARCE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Jack Cameron's office was a handsome apartment. It was approached by a
+broad staircase, the balusters of which were impressive from their
+solidity and design. The office door had a species of ornamental
+pediment over it, and the room itself had panelled walls of a pale
+green, a chimneypiece of portentous size, and a highly ornamental
+ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>Up the staircase tripped a little lady&mdash;a pleasant vision of a silk
+blouse, butter-coloured lace, golden hair, fawn gloves, and tan
+bottines, leaving behind her an atmosphere redolent of the latest
+fashionable perfume mingled with the more delicate scent of the Marechal
+Niel roses in her corsage.</p>
+
+<p>She knocked at the door, and, as there was no response from within,
+turned the handle.</p>
+
+<p>"May I come in, please?" she said laughingly.</p>
+
+<p>A young man was standing in a corner of the room opposite the
+telegraphic machine, from which the "tape" was issuing with a monotonous
+click. On this "tape"&mdash;a narrow strip of paper seemingly endless, which
+fell on the floor in serpentine coils&mdash;were inscribed at regular
+intervals some cabalistic characters unintelligible to the general
+public, but full of meaning to the initiated.</p>
+
+<p>He turned at the sound of the voice. "What! Dolly?" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Jack; didn't you expect me?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>"Of course&mdash;of course," answered Jack Cameron, rather confusedly.</p>
+
+<p>The girl crossed the room, and, taking both the hands of the young man,
+looked into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You are worried," said she softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, only a little. One is bound to have worries in business, especially
+when the market's feverish. But I'm awfully glad you've come. I shall
+forget all my bothers now you are here."</p>
+
+<p>His tone brightened, and the shadow that was beginning to steal over the
+girl's face disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>They were engaged. The wedding-day was fixed for the following week;
+naturally there was much to do in the way of house furnishing, and the
+bride elect was happy. Shopping before marriage has a distinct charm of
+its own. The feminine mind attaches to each purchase an ideal pleasure.
+Then there is the special joy of being entrusted by her future husband
+with money, and the pride of showing him how well she can bargain.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Cameron was a stockbroker, and had done fairly well in South
+Africans. But like a good many others he had kept his "Narbatos" too
+long, and he saw his way to lose some money; not enough to seriously
+damage his stability, but enough to inconvenience him at this especial
+time when he was thinking of taking a wife.</p>
+
+<p>Dolly Hardcastle knew nothing at all about this. Indeed, she knew
+nothing about stockbroking. It seemed to her simply a pleasant, light,
+gentlemanly profession, consisting principally in standing in
+Throgmorton Street, with one's hat tilted backwards, smoking cigarettes,
+eating oranges or strawberries according to the season, and talking
+about cricket or football.</p>
+
+<p>This was the first time she had been to Jack's office, and she was
+prettily curious about everything&mdash;especially the telephone. She was not
+satisfied until Jack had shown her how to work the apparatus.</p>
+
+<p>The "ticker" was also an all-absorbing object of attention<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> The
+continuous "click, click," and the issuing of the tape without any
+apparent motive power, had something of the supernatural about it. Dolly
+looked at the white strips with wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"What does this say, Jack? N-a-r-Narbatos, 2&frac12;. What does it mean?"</p>
+
+<p>Alas! Jack Cameron knew too well what it meant. Narbatos had gone down
+with a "slump." When Miss Hardcastle called he was debating whether he
+should sell. This quotation decided him.</p>
+
+<p>"Dolly," said he hurriedly, "do you mind me leaving you for five minutes
+alone while I run into the 'House'?"</p>
+
+<p>No, Dolly did not mind. Business, of course, must be attended to. Jack
+seized his hat, snatched a kiss, and vanished.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear old Jack," said Dolly, seating herself at the office table and
+staring at the ticker. "I wonder whether he has many callers? Whatever
+shall I do if anybody comes?"</p>
+
+<p>She was considering this matter, with the assistance of the paper-knife,
+pressed against her pretty lips, when the sharp ting, ting, ting, of the
+telephone startled her.</p>
+
+<p>Somebody wanted to speak to Jack. It might be important. Hadn't she
+better go to the telephone? It was so nice to be able to help her future
+husband.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder whether I could imitate Jack's voice?"</p>
+
+<p>She went to the telephone and did exactly as Jack had instructed her to
+do. She heard a sepulchral voice say, "Are you there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Dolly boldly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have an offer of 5,000 Rosebuds. Will you take the lot, as you said
+you would when we were talking about them the other day? Wire just
+come."</p>
+
+<p>"Five thousand rosebuds!" cried Dolly, with flashing eyes and cheeks
+like the flowers just mentioned. "Then Jack is going to have the church
+decorated after all. Darling fellow; he hasn't even forgotten the wire
+for fastening them."</p>
+
+<p>The man at the other end was evidently impatient, for he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> shouted that
+Jack must decide at once. As the matter was one which concerned Dolly,
+she had no hesitation what answer to give.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she declared, in as bass a tone as she could assume.</p>
+
+<p>She felt half inclined to waltz round the room, but she was afraid of
+disturbing the occupant of the office below. Gradually she sobered down,
+and by the time Jack Cameron returned she was quite sedate.</p>
+
+<p>Jack had sold his Narbatos, and had lost &pound;500 over the deal. But it was
+no use crying over spilt milk. The immediate effect was that he would
+have to be very economical over his honeymoon expenses. However, he
+wouldn't say anything about the matter to Dolly that day. He would carry
+out his promise&mdash;give her a nice luncheon at Birch's.</p>
+
+<p>And so, putting on a mask of gaiety to conceal his real feelings, he
+piloted his fianc&eacute;e across Broad Street and Cornhill.</p>
+
+<p>That luncheon took a long time. Basking in the smiles of his Dolly, he
+gradually forgot stocks, shares, backwardations, and contangoes. Then,
+when they came from Birch's, Dolly wanted to see the new frescoes at the
+Royal Exchange, and she had to be obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>It was quite three o'clock when he bethought himself that, though wooing
+was very pleasant, he had several important letters to write, and must
+return to his office.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Jack, dear, for being so nice to me to-day," whispered
+Dolly, as they strolled towards the entrance of the Exchange; "and thank
+you especially for letting me have the church decorated. The roses will
+make the dear old place look sweetly pretty."</p>
+
+<p>Jack stared. Had his Dolly taken leave of her senses?</p>
+
+<p>"Decorations&mdash;roses!" he exclaimed, mechanically. "I don't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's very clever of you," laughed Dolly, "pretending you know
+nothing about it. You wanted to surprise me."</p>
+
+<p>"Upon my word I had no intention of having the church decorated. I
+should like to please you, of course, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>Well, he had already decided that the church decoration was one of the
+expenses he would do without.</p>
+
+<p>"Come now, confess. Haven't you ordered a quantity of rosebuds? You must
+have forgotten. Anyway, it's all right, for while you were away from
+your office there came a message through the telephone asking whether
+you'd take 5,000 rosebuds you were talking to somebody about the other
+day and of course I said yes. Gracious! Jack, dear, what is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rosebuds&mdash;telephone. Of course, I see what has happened," faltered the
+young stockbroker. "Oh, Dolly&mdash;Dolly."</p>
+
+<p>"What have I done? Nothing very serious, I hope. If you don't want to
+have the church decorated, why, I&mdash;I&mdash;shan't mind very&mdash;very much."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't that at all," said Jack, looking very queer. "Of course you
+didn't know. Unluckily the message didn't mean flowers, but shares in
+the 'Rosebud Gold Mining Company.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!"</p>
+
+<p>It was quite true that Jack had contemplated speculating in "Rosebud"
+shares, but he had heard some disquieting rumours about the mine, and
+had decided not to touch them. And here he was the prospective owner of
+5,000! Only two days before the quotation was 10s., with a tendency to
+drop. To take them up was impossible, to sell would mean a loss.</p>
+
+<p>"Dolly," said he hurriedly, "let me see you into an omnibus." And, after
+a hasty farewell, he packed the young lady into a Kensington 'bus, and
+rushed to the Mining door of the Stock Exchange in Broad Street.</p>
+
+<p>"What are Rosebuds?" he inquired excitedly of a well-known stockbroker.</p>
+
+<p>"15<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, buyers, 14<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, sellers."</p>
+
+<p>And they were 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, 7<i>s.</i>, when the market opened that morning.
+What did it mean, and at what price had he, or rather, had Dolly, bought
+them?</p>
+
+<p>He knew from whom the telephonic message had come.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> He dashed into his
+office and rang up the man, a member of a West End firm of brokers.</p>
+
+<p>"Eight shillings," was the reply. "Congratulate you. Your profit already
+will pay for your honeymoon and a little more besides. Of course you'll
+sell. It's a market rig, and I happen to be in the know."</p>
+
+<p>Sell? Of course he would. A profit of over &pound;1,800 would recoup him for
+his loss of that morning, and leave him a handsome balance in the
+bargain.</p>
+
+<p>"Dolly, dearest," he whispered that night, "the rosebuds are all right.
+The old church shall be smothered in them from end to end."</p>
+
+<p>And so it was, but like a prudent man he never explained that but for
+Dolly's unconscious assistance there might have been no roses and
+perhaps very little honeymoon. He was afraid Dolly might want to help
+him again!</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="A_TALE_OF_SIMLA" id="A_TALE_OF_SIMLA"></a>A TALE OF SIMLA.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY DR. HELEN BOURCHIER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>There was a dinner-party that night at the lieutenant-governor's, and
+those of the governed who had followed him from his territory of Lahore
+up to Simla were bidden to the feast. In one of the pretty private
+sitting-rooms of the Bellevue Hotel three ladies were discussing
+chiffons in connection with that function.</p>
+
+<p>"Elma doesn't care for dinner-parties," Mrs. Macdonald said regretfully.</p>
+
+<p>Elma was her daughter, and this was her first season in Simla.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother, I like the parties well enough!" said Elma. "What I hate is
+the horrid way you have of getting to parties."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" the third lady asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Elma means that she doesn't like the jampans," Mrs. Macdonald
+explained.</p>
+
+<p>"I am always frightened," said Elma in a low voice, and a little of the
+delicate colour she had brought out from England with her faded from her
+lovely face. "It seems so dreadful to go rushing down those steep,
+narrow lanes, on the edge of a precipice, in little rickety two-wheeled
+chairs that would turn over in a minute if one of the men were to
+stumble and fall; and then one would roll all down I don't know how many
+feet, down those steep precipices: some of them have no railings or
+protection of any kind, and in the evening the roads are quite dark
+under the overhanging trees. And people have fallen over them and been
+killed&mdash;every one knows that."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>"Elma cannot speak Hindustani," the mother further explained, "and the
+first time she went out she called '<i>Jeldi, jeldi!</i>' to the men, and of
+course they ran faster and faster. I was really rather alarmed myself
+when they came tearing past me round a corner."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought <i>jeldi</i> meant 'slowly,'" said Elma.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at any rate you have learnt one word of the language," said Mrs.
+Thompson, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"I should not mind so much if mother was with me," said the girl; "but
+those horrid little jampans only hold one person&mdash;and mother's jampannis
+always run on so fast in front, and my men have to keep up with them. I
+wish I wasn't going this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"She has the sweetest frock you ever saw," said Mrs. Macdonald, turning
+to a pleasanter aspect of the subject. "I must say my sister-in-law took
+great pains with her outfit, and she certainly has excellent taste."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you ever feel nervous at first," Elma asked, "when you went out
+in a jampan on a dark night down a very steep road?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Thompson laughed. "I can't say I remember it," she said. "I never
+fancied myself going over the <i>kudd</i>&mdash;the 'precipice' as you call it. I
+suppose I should have made my husband walk by the side of the jampan if
+I had been afraid."</p>
+
+<p>Then she got up to go, and Mrs. Macdonald went out with her and stood
+talking for a minute in the long corridor outside her rooms.</p>
+
+<p>"She is a very lovely creature," said Mrs. Thompson pleasantly. "I
+should think she is quite the prettiest girl in Simla this year."</p>
+
+<p>"I think she is," the mother agreed; "but I am afraid she will be very
+difficult to manage. She is only just out of the schoolroom, you know,
+and girls are so unpractical. She doesn't care to talk to any one but
+the subalterns and boys of her own age&mdash;and it is so important she
+should settle this year. You know we retire next year."</p>
+
+<p>"It is early days yet," said the other cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>She had come out to India herself as the bride of a very rising young
+civilian, and she knew nothing of the campaign of the mothers at Simla.</p>
+
+<p>Elma indeed looked a lovely creature when she came out of her room an
+hour or two later to show herself to her mother before she stepped into
+the hated jampan. Her dress was a delicate creation of white lace and
+chiffon, with illusive shimmerings of silver in its folds that came and
+went with every one of her graceful movements. She was a tall and
+slender girl, with a beautiful long white throat, smooth and round, that
+took on entrancing curves of pride and gentleness, of humility and
+nobleness. She had splendid rippling hair of a deep bronze, that had
+been red a few years earlier; and dark blue dreamy eyes under broad dark
+eyebrows; a long sweep of cool fair cheek, and a rather wide mouth with
+a little tender, pathetic droop at the corners.</p>
+
+<p>"That frock certainly becomes you to perfection," said the mother. "I
+hope you will enjoy yourself; and do try not to let the boys monopolise
+you this evening. It is not like a dance, you know, and really, it is
+not good form to snub all the older men who try to talk to you."</p>
+
+<p>Elma lifted her long lashes with a glance of unfeigned surprise. "Oh,
+mother," she said humbly, "how could I snub any one? I am afraid of the
+clever men. I like to talk to the boys because they are as silly as I am
+myself, and they would not laugh at me for saying stupid things."</p>
+
+<p>"No one is going to laugh at you, goosey," said her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I was not going," said Elma.</p>
+
+<p>The ayah came out of the bedroom, and wrapped the tall young figure in a
+long white opera-cloak; and then they all went down together to the
+front verandah, where the jampans waited with the brown, bare-legged
+runners in their smart grey and blue liveries.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Macdonald started first. "Don't call out <i>jeldi</i> too often, Elma,"
+she called back, laughing: "I don't want to be run over."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>And the ayah, hearing the word <i>jeldi</i>, explained to the jampannis that
+the Miss Sahib desired, above all things, fleetness, and that she had no
+mind to sit behind a team of slugs.</p>
+
+<p>Elma got in very gingerly, and the ayah settled her draperies with
+affectionate care. The dark little woman loved her, because she was
+gentle and fair and never scolded or hurried.</p>
+
+<p>The night was very dark. The road was by narrow backways, rough, heavily
+shadowed, and unprotected in many places. The jampannis started off at a
+run down the steep path as soon as they had passed through the gate, and
+Elma sat trembling and quaking behind them, gripping both sides of the
+little narrow carriage as she was whirled along. Once or twice it bumped
+heavily over large stones in the road; and when they had gone some
+little distance a dispute seemed to arise between the runners. They
+stopped the jampan and appealed to her, but she could not understand a
+word they said. She could only shake her head and point forward. Several
+minutes were lost in this discussion, and when at length it was decided
+one way or the other, the men started again at a greater speed than
+ever, to make up for the lost time.</p>
+
+<p>They bumped and flew along the dark road, and whirled round a corner too
+short. One of the men on the inner side of the road stumbled up the
+bank, and, losing his balance, let go the pole, and the jampan heeled
+over. Elma's startled scream unnerved the other runners, who swerved and
+stumbled, and in a moment the jampan was overturned down the side of the
+<i>kudd</i>. The white figure in it was shot out and went rolling down the
+rough hillside among the scrub and thorny bushes and broken stakes that
+covered it.</p>
+
+<p>The jampannis ran away; and after that one scream of Elma's there was
+silence on the dark road.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to her that she was years rolling and buffeting down that
+steep hillside, which happily at that point was not precipitous. Then
+something struck her sharply on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> side and stopped her farther
+progress. She did not faint, though the pain in her side gripped her
+breath for a moment. For all her delicate ethereal appearance, she was a
+strong girl, and, like many timid people, found courage when a disaster
+had really happened. She could not move. She was pinned down among the
+short, stiff branches of a thorny shrub; but she screamed again as loud
+as she could&mdash;not a scream of terror, but a call for help. Then she lay
+and listened. All about her there was no sound but the rustling murmur
+of the leaves and the tiny, mysterious noises of the little creatures of
+the night whose realm she had invaded. Now and again she tried to move
+and disentangle herself from the strong branches that held her; but they
+pressed her down, the thorns pinned her clothes, and her bruised side
+ached with every movement&mdash;and she was forced to lie still again and
+listen for some sound of the jampannis, who must surely be looking for
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, on the road above, there sounded, very faint and far off, the
+tramp of shod feet. She called again, and the tramp quickened to a run,
+and a man's voice shouted in the distance: "Hullo! Hullo!"</p>
+
+<p>As the steps came nearer above her, she cried again: "Help! I am
+here&mdash;down the <i>kudd</i>."</p>
+
+<p>In the leafy stillness her shrill young voice rang far and clear.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you?" came the answering voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Down the <i>kudd</i>."</p>
+
+<p>The steps stopped on the road above.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you there?" the voice called. "I see something white glimmering."</p>
+
+<p>"I am here," she answered; then, as the bushes crackled above her, she
+called a warning: "It is very steep. Be careful."</p>
+
+<p>Very slowly and cautiously the steps came down the steep side of the
+<i>kudd</i> to an accompaniment of rolling stones and crashing and tearing
+branches, and now and then a muttered exclamation. Then she was aware of
+a white face glimmering out of the darkness.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>"Are you there?" said the voice again, quite close to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am here, but I cannot move; the branches hold me down."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a moment. I will get a light."</p>
+
+<p>She was lying on her back, and, turning her head a little, she could see
+a match struck and the face it illuminated&mdash;a strong, dark, clean-shaven
+face; a close-cropped, dark, uncovered head. The match was held over her
+for a moment, then it went out.</p>
+
+<p>"I see where you are," said the rescuer, "we must try to get you out.
+Are you hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have hurt my side, I think," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Without more words he knelt down beside her and began to tear away and
+loosen the short, sturdy branches; then he took her under the shoulders,
+and drew her slowly along the ground. There was a great rending and
+tearing in every direction of her delicate garments; but at last she was
+free of the clinging thorns and branches.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid the thorns have scratched you a good deal," he said in a
+very matter-of-fact voice. "Will you try if you can stand up now? Lean
+on me."</p>
+
+<p>Elma scrambled to her feet, and stood leaning against him&mdash;a glimmering,
+ghostly figure, whose tattered garments were happily hidden by the
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think you can manage to climb back to the road now?" he asked;
+"there may be snakes about here, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"I will try," said Elma.</p>
+
+<p>"I will go first," he said. "You had better hold on to my coat, I think.
+That will leave my hands free to pull us up."</p>
+
+<p>Very slowly and laboriously they clambered back again to the road above;
+there was no sign of the jampannis, and the jampan itself had gone over
+the <i>kudd</i> and was no more to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>They sat down exhausted on the rising bank on the other side of the
+road.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>"How did you get here?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"My jampan went over the side, down the precipice," said Elma, "and I am
+afraid those poor jampannis must have been killed."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger laughed long and loud, and Elma, in the reaction of her
+relief, laughed too.</p>
+
+<p>"I have not the slightest idea what you are laughing at," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"You have not been long in this country?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"You do not know the jampanni. As soon as the jampan tilted they let go,
+and directly they saw you had gone over they ran away. Killed! Well,
+that is likely! I daresay they will come back here presently to pick up
+the pieces, when they have got over their panic: they are not really
+bad-hearted, you know. We will wait a little while and see."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence between them for a few peaceful moments; then Elma
+said gently, "I thank you with all my heart."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not at all!" said the stranger politely.</p>
+
+<p>They both laughed again, young, heart-whole, clear laughter, that echoed
+strangely on those world-old hills.</p>
+
+<p>"Words are very inadequate," said Elma presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, one understands all right without words," said he; "but where is
+the rest of your party, I wonder? I suppose you were not alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother has gone to a dinner-party," she answered. "Oh dear, what ought
+I to do? She will be so frightened! She is waiting for me. I must get
+some one to go and tell her I am all right. How could I sit here and
+forget how frightened she will be when I don't come!"</p>
+
+<p>"We had better wait a little longer, I think," he said. "You cannot walk
+just yet, can you?"</p>
+
+<p>"My shoes are all cut to pieces," she owned ruefully. "I suppose we must
+wait. It was very lucky for me you were passing just then."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I had just cut the shop for an hour or two, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> I came round here
+to have a quiet smoke. Lost my way, as a matter of fact."</p>
+
+<p>"They must keep open very late at your shop," she remarked.</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated a moment before he answered, "Very late."</p>
+
+<p>"And I suppose you haven't dined?" she went on. "You must come back with
+me, and dine at the hotel. I cannot go on to the party now, at any rate;
+my clothes are in rags, and, besides, it must be quite late."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know your way back to the hotel?" he asked, as the time went on
+and the jampannis remained, to all appearance, as dead as ever.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I have never walked down this way, and it is far too dark to
+attempt it now," said Elma very decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>The time passed pleasantly enough while they waited, and more than once
+their light-hearted laughter rang out into the night.</p>
+
+<p>At last they heard a pattering of bare feet coming down the road. The
+stranger hailed in Hindustani, and the natives stopped and began an
+excited jabbering all together, which the stranger answered in their own
+language.</p>
+
+<p>"These are the jampannis who were killed," he announced to Elma. "If you
+wish it, I will send one of them with a message to your mother, and the
+others can fetch a couple of jampans to take us to the hotel."</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to know Hindustani very well," she remarked, when the men had
+been sent on their various errands.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I have been some little time in India," he answered, "though I
+have only been a few days at Simla. Will you allow me to introduce
+myself? My name is Angus McIvor."</p>
+
+<p>"And I am Elma Macdonald. I hope we shall not meet any one at the hotel
+before I can get to my room. Oh! and will you let me go on in front, and
+get out before you come?&mdash;I am so dreadfully tattered and torn."</p>
+
+<p>"I promise not to look at you at all until you give me leave," he
+answered gravely. "And what about me? I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> lost my hat, and as yet I
+have no idea of the extent of the damage my garments have sustained."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I won't look at you either," said Elma, and they laughed together
+again in the gayest <i>camaraderie</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner was over at the Bellevue when they got back there; but they
+neither of them felt the want of other company. They had a very merry
+little dinner-party all to themselves, and Angus was able to look at the
+damsel errant he had rescued. Her beauty came upon him with a shock of
+surprise. He had seen many beautiful women in his time, but never
+anything so enchanting as the droop of her mouth, or the lovely curves
+of her throat, or the transparent candour of her sweet blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>What Elma saw was a tall, well-knit young fellow, with a dark, plain
+face, a hawk nose, and grey eyes. He was clean-shaven; no moustache or
+beard concealed the masterful squareness of his jaw or the rather
+satirical curve of his thin lips.</p>
+
+<p>Directly dinner was over he left her, though she begged him to stay till
+her mother came home.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother would like to thank you for what you did for me," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I will come and be thanked to-morrow morning, then," he said, laughing.
+"I shall want to know how you are after your accident, you know&mdash;that
+is, if I can get away from the shop."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Macdonald came home rather early, and not in the best of tempers.
+She had been a good deal alarmed and upset when Elma failed to arrive at
+Government House; and even after the jampanni had brought the message
+that her daughter was safe at the hotel she was extremely annoyed at
+Elma's absence from the party. There were several bachelor guests whom
+she would have been glad to introduce to her; and when she thought of
+the radiant figure in the shimmering white robe that she had last seen
+on the hotel verandah, she was ready to cry with vexation and
+disappointment.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>She listened with ill-concealed impatience to Elma's account of her
+accident. "And pray who is this Mr. McIvor who roams about rescuing
+distressed damsels?" she asked. "I never heard his name before."</p>
+
+<p>"He said he came out of a shop," said Elma simply.</p>
+
+<p>"A shop!" cried Mrs. Macdonald. "Really, Elma, you are no better than an
+idiot! The idea of asking a man who comes out of a shop to dine with you
+here! What will people say? You must be mad."</p>
+
+<p>"But he was very kind to me, mother," said Elma, "and he missed his own
+dinner by helping me. And, you know, I might have lain in that horrible
+place all night if he had not helped me out. I don't see that any one
+here can complain about his shop; they were not asked to meet him: we
+dined quite by ourselves, he and I."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Macdonald stamped her foot. "You are hopeless, Elma&mdash;quite
+hopeless!" she cried. "What was your aunt dreaming of to bring you up to
+have no more sense than a child of three years old?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is very gentlemanly," said Elma, still gently expostulating. "You
+will see for yourself: he is coming to call on you to-morrow, and to ask
+how I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Elma, I forbid you to see him again!" said the mother, now tragically
+impressive. "If he calls to-morrow, I shall see him alone. You are not
+to come into the room."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid he will think it very unkind and rude," said Elma
+regretfully; "and I can never forget how kind he was and how glad I was
+to see him when he came down the <i>kudd</i> after me."</p>
+
+<p>But she made no further resistance to her mother's orders, having
+privately decided in her own mind to find out what shop in Simla had the
+advantage of his services, and to see him there herself and thank him
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Angus McIvor duly called next morning, and was received by Mrs.
+Macdonald alone; but what passed between them at that interview remains
+a secret between him and that lady.</p>
+
+<p>After lunch Elma strolled out for her usual solitary walk while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> her
+mother was enjoying her siesta. She wandered idly along under the trees
+down the road along which the jampannis had whirled her the evening
+before, and so to the broken edge of the <i>kudd</i> where she had rolled
+over.</p>
+
+<p>There, sitting on the bank, smoking serenely, was Angus McIvor. He threw
+away his cigar, and got up as soon as she saw him.</p>
+
+<p>Her lovely face flushed, her blue eyes darkened with pleasure, as she
+held out her hand in greeting.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you would be sure to come here," he said, smiling down upon
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you expected me, then?" she said, and her eyes fell before his.</p>
+
+<p>"Why weren't you there this morning when I came to be thanked?" he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>She turned her head away uneasily. "Mother did not wish me to come in,"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>No answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, never mind that now," he said. "I will ask you again some other
+time. Now let us go up towards the top of Jacko; there are some pretty
+views I should like to show you."</p>
+
+<p>And, nothing loth, Elma went with him.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did your mother not wish you to see me this morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell," said Elma lamely.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it because of the shop?" he persisted. "Tell me. I promise you I
+will not mind. Was it?"</p>
+
+<p>The fair head drooped a little, and the answer came in a whisper he
+could hardly hear: "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"And do you mind about the shop?"</p>
+
+<p>She raised indignant blue eyes to his. "Of course not!" she said. "You
+ought to know that without asking me."</p>
+
+<p>"Then will you meet me again to-morrow outside here?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I cannot do that."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>"Then you are ashamed of the shop?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, I am not!"</p>
+
+<p>"But I cannot meet you any other way," he urged. "I cannot come to see
+you, and you have not been to my shop yet since I came to Simla. So
+where can I see you? Will you meet me again?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, I cannot!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is the shop?"</p>
+
+<p>The blue eyes were full of distress, the tender mouth grew more
+pathetic. "I will come just once," she said, "to show you I care nothing
+about the shop. But you must not ask me again to do what I know my
+mother would not like. I cannot deceive her."</p>
+
+<p>And on the next day they met again and walked together.</p>
+
+<p>He did not ask her to meet him again, but on the third day he joined her
+at the gate.</p>
+
+<p>"This is quite accidental, you know," he said, laughing down into her
+happy eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And as they walked in the tender green shadows upon wooded Jacko, his
+eyes said, "I love you," and hers faltered and looked down.</p>
+
+<p>And on the homeward way he took her hand. "I will not ask you to meet me
+again in secret, my sweetest," he said, "because I love you. I am
+ashamed that for one moment I doubted your innocent, unworldly heart. I
+will woo and win you openly as you should be wooed."</p>
+
+<p>And without waiting for an answer, he kissed her hand and left her.</p>
+
+<p>That evening there was a great reception at Government House, and the
+Viceroy's new aide-de-camp, Lord Angus McIvor Stuart, helped to receive
+the guests.</p>
+
+<p>"This is my 'shop,' Mrs. Macdonald," he said. "It was a silly and slangy
+way to speak of it; but, upon my honour, I never meant to deceive any
+one when I said it first."</p>
+
+<p>Then was Elma Macdonald openly wooed and won by the man who loved her.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_TREVERN_TREASURE" id="THE_TREVERN_TREASURE"></a>THE TREVERN TREASURE.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY LUCY HARDY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>A garden in the west of England some two and a half centuries ago; an
+old-world garden, with prim yew hedges and a sundial, and, in one shady
+and sequestered nook, two persons standing; one, a man some forty years
+of age, tall and handsome, the other a lady of grace and beauty some
+fifteen years his junior. Both were cloaked and muffled and spoke in low
+and anxious tones.</p>
+
+<p>"An anxious task well done, sweetheart," the husband said at length, in
+tones of satisfaction; "and now, my darling, remember that this secret
+lies betwixt thou and I. Be heedful in keeping it&mdash;for thine own sake
+and that of our little babe. Should evil times arise, this hidden
+treasure may yet prove provision for our boy and for thee." So saying,
+he drew her arm within his own and led her into the house.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Ralph Trevern had strongly espoused the Royal cause from the
+commencement of the Civil troubles, and was now paying a hurried visit
+to his home, to conceal his chief valuables, and to arrange for the
+departure of his wife Sybil and his baby heir to Exeter; a town still
+loyal to the king, and where he hoped his wife and babe would be safer
+than in their remote Devonshire Manor House amid neighbours of
+Parliamentary sympathies.</p>
+
+<p>At Exeter Sybil Trevern remained until the city was forced to capitulate
+in the spring of 1646; and then, widowed and landless (for Sir Ralph had
+fallen at Marston Moor and his estate had been confiscated), she was
+thankful to accept the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> invitation of some Royalist friends, who had
+accompanied the queen, Henrietta Maria, in her secret flight to France
+some while before, and journeyed, with her babe, to join them in Paris.</p>
+
+<p>There was no opportunity for Sybil Trevern to return to her old home,
+now in the possession of enemies; and, remembering her husband's strict
+charge of secrecy, she was reluctant to mention the hidden treasure,
+even to her friends.</p>
+
+<p>"I will reveal it to our boy when he is of an age to understand it,"
+thought Lady Trevern; but she never lived to see her son grow into
+manhood, or even into youth.</p>
+
+<p>The trials and sorrows which had befallen her had told upon the gentle
+woman; and while the little Ralph was still a child, his mother passed
+into the Silent Land.</p>
+
+<p>The concealment of valuables in secret places frequently results in
+misadventure. Sybil had often described to her little son the concealed
+valuables, which, if the exiled Royalists were ever able to re-visit
+England, she hoped to recover for herself and for him; and, in later
+years, Sir Ralph could still recall the enigmatical words in which his
+mother had (possibly with the idea that the rhyme might, as it did,
+cling to his childish memory) spoken to him of the hidden treasure.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Near the water, by the fern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Trevern secret you shall learn,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>had often been whispered into his childish ears, and this rhyme was now
+the only clue that he possessed to the hiding-place of all that remained
+of his family's fortunes. The articles heedfully concealed by the elder
+Sir Ralph were of no small value. Besides papers and documents of some
+moment to the family, and some heirlooms (antique silver so prized as to
+have been exempted, even by the devoted Royalists, from contribution to
+the king's "war treasure chest," for which the University of Oxford, and
+many a loyal family, had melted down their plate), Sir Ralph had hidden
+a most valuable collection of jewels, notably a necklace of rubies and
+diamonds, which had been a treasured possession of the Treverns since<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>
+the days of Elizabeth, when one of the family had turned "gentleman
+adventurer," become a companion of Drake and Hawkins, and won it as a
+prize from a Spanish galloon.</p>
+
+<p>In his childhood, the present Sir Ralph had heard (from old servants as
+well as from his mother) descriptions of these treasured jewels; but the
+secret of their hiding-place now rested with the dead.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Ralph grew to manhood, returned to England at the Restoration, and
+finally, after much suing and delay, succeeded in obtaining repossession
+of his small paternal estate. Then, for many months, did he devote
+himself to a careful, but utterly unavailing, search about his property,
+vainly seeking along the lake-side and all round the big pond for the
+concealed valuables&mdash;but never finding aught but disappointment. The
+neighbours said that the silent, morose man, who spent his days walking
+about the estate with bent head and anxious, searching eyes, had become
+a trifle crazed; and indeed his fruitless search after his hidden wealth
+had grown into a monomania.</p>
+
+<p>As the years rolled by, Sir Ralph became a soured and misanthropic man;
+for his estate had returned to him in a ruinous and burthened condition,
+and the acquisition of his hidden treasure was really necessary to clear
+off incumbrances and to repair the family fortunes.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Trevern often assured her husband that it was more than probable
+that the late Cromwellian proprietor had discovered the jewels during
+his occupancy, and that, like a prudent man, he kept his own counsel in
+the matter. But Sir Ralph still clung to the belief that somewhere in
+his grounds, "near the water and by the fern," the wealth he now so
+sorely needed lay concealed. That in this faith Sir Ralph lived and died
+was proved by his will, in which he bequeathed to the younger of his two
+sons, "and to his heirs," the jewels and other specified valuables which
+the testator firmly believed were still concealed <i>somewhere</i> about the
+Trevern property. The widowed Lady Trevern, however, was a capable and
+practically-minded woman, little inclined to set much value<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> upon this
+visionary idea of "treasure trove." She was most reluctant to see her
+sons waste their lives in a hopeless search after the missing property,
+and succeeded in impressing both her children with her own views
+regarding the utter hopelessness of their father's quest. And, as the
+years passed away, the story of the "Trevern Treasure" became merely a
+kind of "family legend." The ferns said nothing, and the water kept its
+secret.</p>
+
+<p>Fortune was not more kindly to the Treverns in the eighteenth century
+than she had been in the seventeenth. Roger Trevern, the elder son and
+inheritor of the estate, found it a hard struggle to maintain himself
+and his large family upon the impoverished property, while the younger
+son Richard, the designated heir of the missing treasure, became
+implicated in the Jacobite rising of 1715, was forced to fly to Holland
+after Mar's defeat, and died in exile, a few years after the disaster of
+Sherrifmuir, bequeathing a destitute orphan girl to his brother's
+charge.</p>
+
+<p>Roger Trevern, a most kindly man, welcomed this addition to his already
+large family without a murmur; and little Mary Trevern grew up with her
+cousins, beloved and kindly treated by all in the household. It was only
+as the child grew into womanhood that a change came over Madam Trevern's
+feelings towards her young niece; for Madam Trevern was a shrewd and
+sensible woman, a devoted, but also an ambitious, mother. Much as she
+liked sweet Mary Trevern, she had no desire to see her eldest son, the
+youthful heir of the sadly encumbered estate, wedded to a portionless
+bride, however comely and amiable. And Dick Trevern had lately been
+exhibiting a marked preference for his pretty cousin, a fact which
+greatly disturbed his mother's peace of mind.</p>
+
+<p>Mary herself knew this, and did not resent her aunt's feelings in the
+matter. The girl, as one of the elders among the children, had long been
+familiar with the story of the family straits and struggles, and could
+only acquiesce (though with a stifled sigh) in Madam Trevern's oft
+repeated axiom that "whenever Dick wedded, his bride must bring with her
+sufficient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> dowry to free the estate" from some of the mortgages which
+were crushing and crippling it. Mary knew that a marriage between
+herself and Dick could only result in bringing troubles upon both&mdash;and
+yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;love and prudence do not often go hand-in-hand&mdash;and
+although no word of actual wooing had ever passed between the young
+folk, both had, unfortunately, learned to love each other but too well.
+Wistfully did she think of that hidden treasure, now but a forlorn hope,
+yet all the hope she had.</p>
+
+<p>"And had the poor child but a dowry there is none to whom I would sooner
+see our Dick wedded," Madam Trevern once remarked to her husband; "for
+Molly is a good girl, and like a daughter to us already. But, Roger,
+'tis but sheer midsummer madness to dream of such a marriage now; truly
+'twould be but 'hunger marrying thirst.' Dick must seek for a bride who
+at least brings some small fortune with her; and is there not Mistress
+Cynthia at the Hall, young and comely, and well dowered, casting eyes of
+favour upon him already?"</p>
+
+<p>Roger Trevern sighed a little; he honestly liked Mary, and would have
+welcomed her heartily as a daughter-in-law, though prudent
+considerations told him that his wife spoke truly regarding the
+hopelessness of such a marriage for his son.</p>
+
+<p>And then Madam Trevern went on to discuss with her husband the scheme
+she had now much at heart, viz., the separation of the young folks by
+the transference of Mary to the family of a distant kinsman in London.</p>
+
+<p>"You do but lose your youth buried here with us, child," said Madam
+Trevern to Mary, with kindly hypocrisy one day, "while with our cousin
+Martin, who would be glad enough to take a bright young maid like thee
+to be companion to his ailing wife, thou mayst see the world, and
+perchance make a great marriage, which will cause thee to look down upon
+us poor Devon rustics." But Mary wept silently, though she was ready,
+even willing, to go to London as desired.</p>
+
+<p>It was the girl's last day in the old home; her modest outfit had been
+prepared and packed, and the old waggoner was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> to call on the morrow to
+convey Mary and her uncle (who was to be her escort to the wonderful,
+far-off "London town") to Exeter; whence, by slow and tedious stages,
+the travellers would reach the metropolis at last.</p>
+
+<p>Dick, who had been astutely sent away from home for a few weeks, knew
+nothing of his cousin's intended departure&mdash;Madam Trevern had purposely
+schemed thus to escape any "farewells" between the young people,
+arranging Mary's London visit very suddenly; and "perhaps 'twas the
+wisest," the girl sighed to herself as she wandered for the last time
+round the old, familiar garden, and seated herself, <i>alone!</i> on the
+mossy well curb, where she and Dick had so often sat and talked together
+on sweet summer evenings in the past.</p>
+
+<p>Mary's heart was indeed sad within her, and visions of what "might have
+been" would keep welling up before her. Oh! if only some good fairy had
+been keeping back the secret of the hidden treasure to reveal it now,
+how happy it would be.</p>
+
+<p>Her solitary musings were, however, put to flight by the appearance of
+the younger children, with whom she was a great favourite, and who had
+gained an hour's respite from their usual "bed-time" upon this, their
+cousin's last night at home. Tom, and Will, and Sally, and Ben, had
+indeed received the tidings of their beloved "Molly's" impending
+departure with great dismay; and their vociferous lamentations were
+hardly to be checked by their mother's assurances that one day "Cousin
+Molly" might come back to see them, when she was "a great lady, riding
+in her coach and six," and would bring them picture-books and gilt
+gingerbread.</p>
+
+<p>It was with a strange pang at her heart that Mary now submitted to the
+loving, if rather boisterous, caresses of the urchins who climbed her
+lap and clung around her neck.</p>
+
+<p>But Mary had not chosen her quiet seat with a view to childhood's romps
+or she had chosen a safer one. As it was the shout of merriment was
+quickly followed by a sudden cry, a splash, and a simultaneous
+exclamation of dismay from Mary and the children. Will, the youngest,
+most troublesome, and therefore best beloved of the family, the
+four-years-old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> "baby," had slipped on the curb of the well,
+overbalanced himself, and fallen in; dropping a toy into the water as he
+did so. In a moment Mary was on her feet. Seizing the bucket, she called
+the elder boys to work the windlass, and, with firm, but quiet
+instructions and a face as white as death, consigned herself to the
+unknown deep.</p>
+
+<p>Near the bottom of the well, which was not very deep, she came upon her
+little cousin suspended by his clothes to a hook fastened in the well
+side. She was not long in disengaging the little fellow's clothes from
+the friendly hook, and was about to signal to be drawn up, when beneath
+the hook, and explanatory of it&mdash;"near the water, by the fern"&mdash;what was
+it? A large hole in the side of the well, and in it&mdash;the Trevern
+treasure, found at last!</p>
+
+<p>Though the lapse of many years had rotted some of the leather covering
+of the jewel casket, the gems themselves, when lifted out, flashed forth
+in undimmed beauty; the silver cups and flagons, if discoloured, were
+still intact, and the papers in the metal case were well preserved.</p>
+
+<p>These last proved of great importance to Roger Trevern, enabling him to
+substantiate his claim to some disputed property, which was quite
+sufficient to relieve his estate of all its embarrassments.</p>
+
+<p>And as for Mary, she restored her youngest cousin to his mother's arms,
+and took the eldest to her own.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="A_MEMORABLE_DAY" id="A_MEMORABLE_DAY"></a>A MEMORABLE DAY.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY SARAH DOUDNEY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Miss Tillotson's grey parrot had called "Clarissa" a dozen times at
+least, and was listening with his cunning head on one side for footsteps
+on the stairs. Breakfast was ready; an urn, shaped something like a
+sepulchral monument, was steaming on the table, and near it stood an old
+china jar filled with monthly roses. It was a warm, bright morning&mdash;that
+twenty-ninth of August in the year 1782. The windows at each end of the
+room were wide open, but scarcely a breath of air wandered in, or
+stirred the lilac bushes in the garden. For the Tillotsons' house could
+boast of a respectable strip of ground, although it stood in a street in
+Portsea.</p>
+
+<p>At a quarter past eight Clarissa Tillotson came downstairs, and entered
+the room with a quick, firm step, taking no notice of the parrot's
+salutation. She was a tall, fair girl of nineteen; her hair, worn
+according to the fashion of that period, in short curls, was almost
+flaxen; her eyes were clear blue, her features regular, and, but for a
+certain hardness and sternness about the mouth, she might have been
+pronounced beautiful. She was dressed in a short-waisted gown of white
+muslin, with a blue girdle; her bodice was cut square, leaving her neck
+uncovered; her tight sleeves reached to the wrists. The gown was so
+scanty, and the skirt clung so closely to her figure, that it made her
+appear even taller than she really was. And at this day, on the wall of
+a modern London mansion, Clarissa's grandchildren and
+great-grandchildren behold her in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> a tarnished gilt frame, habited in
+the very costume which she wore on that memorable morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning, Anthony," she said stiffly, as a young man, two years
+older than herself, made his appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning, sister," he answered in a cheery tone, drawing a step
+nearer as if he meant to give her a kiss. But Clarissa drew up her
+stately figure to its full height, and turned quickly to the table.</p>
+
+<p>Her brother coloured with annoyance. There had been a quarrel between
+them on the preceding day, and Anthony was willing to make the first
+advance towards reconciliation. But he saw that Clarissa intended to
+keep him at a distance, and he knew the obstinacy of her nature too well
+to renew his attempt. He took his seat with a sigh, thinking how bright
+the home-life would be if the cloud of her unyielding temper did not too
+frequently darken the domestic sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>"I find that father is not well enough to come down yet," he said at
+last, breaking an awkward silence. "He means to leave his room this
+afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"Dr. Vale charged him to be very cautious," rejoined Clarissa.</p>
+
+<p>These young people were motherless; the daughter reigned as mistress of
+her father's house, acknowledging no control save his, and that was of
+the mildest kind. Captain Tillotson was the most indulgent of parents;
+his wife had died while Clarissa was still too young to realize her
+loss, and the child had been entirely left to the care of an old
+servant, who allowed her to have her own way in all things. At school
+she had been forced to submit to discipline; but her strong will was
+never conquered, and she generally contrived to gain an ascendency over
+her companions. Having retired from long and honourable service in the
+Royal Navy, the captain settled himself at home, to pass his old age in
+peace; and Clarissa proved herself an affectionate daughter. But Anthony
+was scarcely so easy to manage as her father; to him, his sister's word
+was not always law, and she sometimes found herself good-humouredly
+contradicted.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>"If I give in," thought she, going over the before-mentioned quarrel,
+"he will think that he has got the mastery. No; I will treat him with
+marked coldness until he makes an apology."</p>
+
+<p>Thoroughly chilled by her frigid tone and manner, Anthony made few
+efforts to sustain the conversation. Breakfast was finished in silence,
+and he rose rather hastily from his seat at the table.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going on board the <i>Royal George</i> this morning," he said, moving
+towards the door. "If my father asks for me, Clarissa, please tell him
+that I wanted to say a few words to Lieutenant Holloway. He will have to
+sail again shortly."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," replied Clarissa, indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>The hall-door closed behind him, and she rung the bell to have the
+breakfast-table cleared. Then the sunshine tempted her to saunter into
+the garden, and gather a bunch of sweet lavender, but from some
+unexplained cause her mind was ill at ease. She could take no pleasure
+in her flowers; no interest in the vine which had been her especial
+care; and she returned to the house, determined to spend the morning at
+her worsted-work. Seating herself near the open window, she drew her
+frame towards her, and arranged her crewels. The shining needle darted
+in and out, and she was soon deeply absorbed in her occupation.</p>
+
+<p>Every piece of work has a history of its own; and this quaint
+representation of the woman of Samaria was fated to be of great interest
+to succeeding generations. But the busy worker little guessed what
+memories would hereafter cling to that morning's labour, nor dreamed
+that some day those very stitches would remind her of the darkest hours
+in her life.</p>
+
+<p>She worked on until the old clock in the hall struck ten; and at the
+same moment a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, strewing the
+table with petals from the over-blown roses in the jar, and blowing
+Clarissa's curls about her head. It was a welcome breeze, coming as it
+did after the sultry stillness, and she stood up between the two windows
+to enjoy the draught. Then, after pacing the long room to and fro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> for
+awhile, she sat down to her frame again, and began to think about her
+brother Anthony.</p>
+
+<p>Had she been quite right after all? Would it not have been well to have
+received that kiss of peace? Was it such a very meritorious thing to
+hold out until her adversary had humbled himself before her? Even if the
+apology were made, would it not be rather a poor victory&mdash;one of those
+conquests which degrade instead of exalting the conqueror? Anthony was a
+noble fellow, a brother of whom most girls would be proud. His only
+fault was that determination to maintain his own opinion; but was that
+indeed a fault? She worked faster, and almost decided that it was not.</p>
+
+<p>So busy was her brain that time flew by unheeded, and she started to
+hear the clock striking one. Scarcely had the stroke died away, when a
+shrill cry came ringing through the quiet street, driving the colour out
+of her face in an instant. Springing up from her chair, she hurried to
+the window that overlooked the pavement, and saw that people had come to
+their doors with dismayed faces, for a woman was standing on the
+causeway, raising that terrible wail.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all true&mdash;it's all true!" she shrieked. "The <i>Royal George</i> has
+gone down at Spithead."</p>
+
+<p>The two maid-servants rushed upstairs in affright, for the cry had
+reached their ears. The captain heard it in his room overhead, and came
+down in his dressing-gown and slippers; but his daughter scarcely stayed
+to exchange a word with him. Mechanically seizing the garden-hat and
+shawl that hung in the hall, she put them on, and ran out into the
+street, setting off at full speed for the dockyard gates. Could it be
+true? Alas! the news was confirmed before she reached her destination,
+and the first wail was but the herald of many others. Even in that hour
+of universal distress and consternation people took note of the tall,
+fair young lady whose face and lips were as white as the dress she wore.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Royal George</i> had lately arrived at Spithead after a cruise, and on
+that fatal morning she was undergoing the operation known as a
+"parliament heel." The sea was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> smooth and the weather still, and the
+business was begun early in the morning, a number of men from Portsmouth
+dockyard going on board to assist the ship's carpenters. It was found
+necessary, it is said, to strip off more of the sheathing than had been
+intended; and the men, eager to reach the defect in the ship's bottom,
+were induced to heel her too much. Then indeed "the land-breeze shook
+her shrouds," throwing her wholly on one side; the cannon rolled over to
+the side depressed; the water rushed in; and the gallant ship met her
+doom. Such was the story, told in hurried and broken words, that
+Clarissa heard from the pale lips of an old seaman; but he could give no
+other tidings. The boats of the fleet had put off to the rescue; that
+was all he could tell.</p>
+
+<p>There was no hope in Clarissa's heart as she turned her steps homewards.
+Anthony had gone down&mdash;gone down with Admiral Kempenfeldt and his eight
+hundred. The same breeze that had scattered the rose-petals and played
+with her curls had a deadlier mission to perform. She remembered how she
+had stood rejoicing in that sudden gust of cool wind, and the thought
+turned her faint and sick as she reached her father's house.</p>
+
+<p>"Clarissa," cried the captain, meeting her at the door, "what is all
+this? Surely it can't be true. Where's Anthony?"</p>
+
+<p>Ay, where was Anthony? She threw her arms round the old man's neck, and
+hid her eyes upon his shoulder that she might not see his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Father&mdash;dear father! He said he was going to see Lieutenant Holloway on
+board&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She could not finish her sentence, and there was no need of more words.
+Captain Tillotson was a brave man; he had faced death many a time
+without flinching, but this was a blow which he was wholly unprepared to
+meet. Putting his daughter gently aside, he sat down on a sofa, and
+looked straight before him with that terrible blank look that tells its
+own tale of a stroke that has crushed out all strength. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> servants,
+glancing from the father to the daughter, saw that on both faces this
+sudden sorrow had done the work of years. What was time? Was it months
+or minutes ago that the first cry had sounded through the street?</p>
+
+<p>"If I had only kissed him!" Clarissa did not know that she was saying
+the words aloud. To her, indeed, this cup was doubly bitter, for it was
+mingled with the gall of remorse. But for that hard nature of hers, she
+might have had the sweetness of a kind parting to think upon. Had he
+forgiven her, in his loving heart, while the great ship was going down,
+and the water was taking away his life? Ah, she might never know that,
+until the cruel sea gave up its dead.</p>
+
+<p>There was a noise of wheels in the street; but what were noises to her?
+The sound drew nearer; the wheels stopped at the door, but it could be
+only some friend, who had come in haste to tell them the bad news which
+they knew already.</p>
+
+<p>Battered, and bruised, and dripping with water, a man descended from the
+hackney coach, and Clarissa started up.</p>
+
+<p>The face was so pale, the whole aspect so strange, that she could not
+receive the great truth all at once. It was not until he entered the
+room, and knelt down, wet and trembling as he was, at his father's feet,
+that she realized her brother's safety.</p>
+
+<p>Anthony had been on the upper deck when the ship sank, and was among
+that small number who escaped death. All those who were between decks
+shared the fate of the great Admiral who went down with his sword in its
+sheath, and ended his threescore years and ten of hard service, in sight
+of shore. The many were taken, the few left; but although hundreds of
+homes were made desolate that day, there were some from whence the
+strain of thanksgiving ascended, tempered by the national woe.</p>
+
+<p>People were wont to say afterwards that Clarissa never again looked so
+young and fair as she did before the blow fell. But if that day's agony
+robbed her of her bloom, it left with her the "meek and quiet spirit"
+which never comes to some of us until it is gained through a great
+sorrow.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="DORA" id="DORA"></a>DORA.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>AN OSTLER'S STORY.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALFRED H. MILES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Tell you a story, Master 'Arry? Ah! there's only one story as ought to
+be told in this yer stable, and that's the old un as allus hupsets me to
+tell. But I don't mind a-goin' over the old ground once ag'in, Master
+'Arry, as you know werry well, if these yer gents 'as a mind to listen
+to a hold man's yarn. It beats all the printed stories as ever I see,
+but then, as I ain't no scholar, and can't see werry well neither,
+p'raps that ain't no much wonder arter all. Reading ain't much in my
+line, yer see, sir, and, as the old master used to say, "Bring up yer
+boys to the prerfishuns yer means 'em to foller." 'Osses is my
+prerfishun, sir, and 'osses I was brought up to.</p>
+
+<p>Excuse me just a minute, sir, if yer don't mind a-settin' on this yer
+stool. I don't like to see nobody a-leanin' ag'in that there post. That
+were "Snowflake's" stall, sir, in the old time, and "Snowflake" were
+little Dora's pony.</p>
+
+<p>My father were os'ler here, sir, afore I were born, and I growed up to
+the stable, Master 'Arry, just as your ole father growed up to the 'All.
+It were in ole Sir Markham's time, this were&mdash;ole Sir Markham, whose
+picture hangs above the mantel in the dinin'-'all, as fine a hold
+English gen'leman as ever crossed a 'unter and follered the 'ounds. The
+first time as ever I see Sir Markham were when I were about four year
+old. O' course, we lived on the estate, but I don't know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> as I'd ever
+been up to the 'All till that partickler mornin', when I came wi' a
+message for my father, and meets ole Sir Markham in the park. Now, yer
+know, Sir Markham were a queer ole chap when he liked. He didn't take no
+nonsens from nobody, he didn't. I've seen him thrash the keeper afore
+now with his own ridin' whip, and he wouldn't 'a' stood partickler about
+a boy or two, and as there'd been a deal of fruit stole out o' the
+orchard about that time, he thought he'd jist up and frighten me a bit.
+So he hollers out&mdash;"Hi! there, you boy, what right 'a' you got in my
+park?" but I see a sort o' twinkle in his eye, so I knowed he weren't
+real cross, and so I up and says, "Ain't boys got a right to go where
+their fathers is?" He didn't say nothing more to me then, but when he
+sees my father he says, "That's a smart boy o' yours, Jim," he says,
+"and when he's a bit older yer must 'ave 'im up 'ere to 'elp."</p>
+
+<p>Well, sir, I got a bit older in time, and I come up 'ere to 'elp, and,
+'ceptin' for a very little while, I've been 'ere ever since.</p>
+
+<p>I were a boy of fourteen when the things 'appened as make up the rest o'
+my story. Sir Markham he were a matter o' sixty year old, I should say,
+and Miss Dora, as I see it said in a book, once, "sweet, wery sweet,
+wery, wery sweet seventeen."</p>
+
+<p>I allus 'ad a hadmiration for Miss Dora. "Darling Dora" they called 'er
+at the 'All, and so did I, when nobody wasn't listenin'. Nobody couldn't
+know 'er without admirin' 'er, but I 'ad a special sort of hadmiration
+for 'er as 'ad made me do any mortal thing she asked me, whatever it
+might 'ave costed.</p>
+
+<p>Yer see, when I were quite a little chap, and she were no much bigger,
+she ses to me one day, when I were a bit scolded, she ses, "Never mind,
+Jim," she ses, "cheer up; you'll be a man o' some sort some day;" and I
+tell you, though I allus 'ad a hidea that way myself, when she said it I
+grow'd a hinch straight off. If yer believes in yourself, Master 'Arry,
+yer can do a lot, but if somebody else believes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> in yer there ain't
+nothink in the whole world what yer can't do.</p>
+
+<p>My particler business in the stable were Miss Dora's pony, Snowflake,
+darling Dora's darling, as it got called o' times. She rode out a great
+deal, did Miss Dora, and she rode well, and I generally 'ad to foller
+'er on the bay cob. She'd spend a lot o' time about this yer stable, one
+way and another, and we got to be werry partickler friends. Not as I
+presum'd, mind yer, nor as she forgot 'er station; she were just a
+hangel, she were, what couldn't be spoilt by nobody's company, and what
+couldn't 'elp a-makin' o' other people wish as they were summut in the
+hangel line, too.</p>
+
+<p>But yer a-gettin' impatient I see, gents, and I ax yer pardon for
+a-ramblin' a bit.</p>
+
+<p>Well, it were Chris'mas time, as it might be now, and young Markham
+(that were your father, Master 'Arry) he were 'ome from Oxford for 'is
+'olidays, with as nice a young fellow as ever stepped, as 'ad come with
+him to spend Chris'mas at the 'All. They called 'im the "Captain," not
+that he were a harmy captain, or anythink of that, he were a captain of
+summut at the college&mdash;maybe football or summut else. Somehow he often
+came 'ome with young Markham at 'oliday times, and 'im and Miss Dora was
+partickler friendly like.</p>
+
+<p>It were not a werry snowy Chris'mas that year, though there were plenty
+of frost, and the lake in the park would 'a' borne the London coach and
+four without a crack. Young Markham and the Captain and Miss Dora did a
+deal o' skatin', and ole Sir Markham invited a lot o' friends to come
+and stay Chris'mas for the sake o' the sport. They did say as Aunt
+Dorothy as Miss Dora were called arter 'ad been a-preachin' at 'im for
+a-neglectin' o' Miss Dora and a-keepin 'er at the 'All without no
+society, and I s'pose that's why Sir Markham were a-aggitatin' himself a
+bit cos' we never 'ad no fuss at Chris'mas as a rule.</p>
+
+<p>Well, we was werry busy at that time, I can tell yer; several of the
+wisitors brought their own 'osses with them, and me and my father had
+plenty to do a-lookin' arter 'em.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>Among the wisitors as come from London were a real military hofficer, a
+reg'lar scaff'ld pole he were, for length and breadth, with mustaches as
+'ud 'a' done for reins, if 'e'd only been a 'oss. He weren't no
+favourite o' mine, not from the fust. He were a bit too harbitry for me.
+He were a-thinkin' he were a-goin' to hintroduce 'is harmy regerlations
+into our stables; but he allus 'ad to wait the longest, for all 'is
+hinterferin'. But what used to rile me the most with him were 'is nasty,
+sneerin' ways at young Markham's friend, the Captain. Yer see, sir, he
+were a real harmy captain, and so I s'pose he were a bit jealous o' our
+young Captain, as was a lot better than 'im, arter all. O' course I
+didn't see it at the time, but I've said to myself lots o' times since,
+it were a reg'lar plant, that's what it were, that Aunt Dorothy 'ad
+brought the big soldier down o' purpose for Miss Dora to fall in love
+with; but 'e were just a little bit too late.</p>
+
+<p>Well, yer know, gents, I told yer as I were quite a youngster at the
+time, and though ole Sir Markham said as I were werry sharp, I must
+confess as I didn't quite understand 'ow things were a-goin' on. I
+noticed that the two captains kept pretty clear of each other, and that
+Miss Dora never came near the stables for three days together, which
+were a werry unusual thing for 'er; and one of the ole servants at the
+'All told me as the hofficer 'ad been hasking Sir Markham if he might
+pay his addresses to Miss Dora, and that Sir Markham 'ad said he might.</p>
+
+<p>My ole father were a-hactin' a bit queer about that time, too; he kept
+a-hasken' me if I'd like to be a postboy, or drive the London coach, or
+anything o' that, cos', he ses, "Yer know, Jim, Miss Dora 'll be
+marryin' somebody one o' these days, and maybe you'll 'ave to find
+summut else to do when Snowflake's gone." "Well," I ses, "if Miss Dora
+got married and go'd away, I reckon she'd take me with 'er to look arter
+'er 'osses, so I sha'n't want no postboy's place, nor coachun's neither,
+as I sees." And father he seemed pretty satisfied, he did, only 'e says,
+"If ever you should want to drive to Scotland, Jim," he ses, "you go
+across the moor to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> Burnley Beeches, and then yer bears off to yer
+right by the Ambly Arms, three mile along you'll fine the great North
+Road, and there yer are."</p>
+
+<p>Well, I didn't take no notice of this, though father he kept on sayin'
+o' summut o' the sort all day long, and when it came to evenin', bein'
+Chris'mas Eve, we went up to the 'All to 'ave supper in the kitchen, and
+drink ole Sir Markham's 'elth. Sir Markham come down in the servants'
+'all and made a speech, and some o' the gents come down too; but while
+things were a-goin' at their 'ighest, my father he says to me, "Jim," 'e
+says, "if ever you want to go to Scotland you go across the moor to the
+Burnley Beeches, and then yer bears off to yer right by the Ambly Arms,
+three mile along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."
+"All right," I says, angry like, "I don't want no Scotland; what d'yer
+want to bother me for with yer Burnley Beeches, and yer Ambly Arms?"
+"Jim," 'e ses solemn, "yer never know how useful a bit of hinformation
+may come in sometimes; now," he says, "you'd better run over to the
+stables, and see if all is a-goin' on right." Well, I see it was no use
+argifyin', so off I starts. I sees as I comes near the stables as there
+were a light there, as ought not to be, and o' course, I run back'ard to
+tell my father, but lor, I thought he were off 'is 'ed, for all he ses
+was, "If ever you wants to go to Scotland, Jim, it's across the moor to
+the Burnley Beeches, off to yer right, by the Ambly Arms, three mile
+along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."</p>
+
+<p>They'd been a-drinkin' a bit 'ard some of 'em, and I ses to myself
+father's been a'elpin' of 'em, and I tears off to the stables to see
+what was up.</p>
+
+<p>Well, when I gets here, I comes in at that there door behind yer, sir,
+and what should I see, but Miss Dora in Snowflake's stall, a-kissin' and
+a-cryin' over 'im like mad. She didn't take no notice o' me no more'n if
+I hadn't been there at all, and I came and stood ag'in that there post
+as you were a-leanin' ag'in just now, sir. Little Dora were a-sobbin' as
+if 'er 'art would break, and she were a-tryin' to say "Good-bye."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>
+They're only little words, sir, at the most, but werry often they're the
+'ardest words in all the world to say.</p>
+
+<p>Well, sir, to make a long story short, it were just this: Sir Markham
+had told 'er as she mustn't think nothink of young Markham's college
+friend, 'cos 'e were poor and 'adn't nothink but 'is wits and 'is
+learnin' to live on, and that the tall soldier 'ad been a-haskin' for
+'er, and he'd promised 'er to 'im; and it 'ad clean broke 'er 'art, and
+so she 'ad come down to this yer stable where everythink loved 'er to
+tell 'er sorrows to her old pet Snowflake, to bury her face in his snowy
+neck, and wipe 'er eyes on his flowin' mane.</p>
+
+<p>But, afore I 'ad time to say anythink, who should foller me in at the
+door but the young Captain hisself, and 'e come and stood by me a moment
+without sayin' a word. He were werry pale, and 'is eyes shone like fire,
+and at last he ses, in a hoarse sort of a whisper, "Jim," 'e ses, "they
+wants to marry darling Dora to the big swaggerin' soldier, and I want
+yer to 'elp me prewent 'em." "'Elp yer prewent 'em," I ses; "why, I'll
+prewent 'em myself. I ain't werry big, p'r'aps, and maybe I couldn't
+reach 'is bloated face, but a stone 'ud find 'is head as quickly as it
+did the big Bible chap as David killed; and maybe I can shie." I hadn't
+practised on ole Sir Markham's apples for nothink.</p>
+
+<p>Well, sir, I needn't say as it didn't come to that. The fact is,
+everythink were arranged. It were a matter o' seventy miles to Scotland
+by the road, and they'd made up their minds to start for Gretna Green as
+soon as the wisitors 'ad gone to bed. Father were in the swim, and
+that's why he'd been a-'intin' to me all day and 'ad sent me to see what
+the light meant. My father 'e were a artful ole man, 'e were; he knowed
+better nor to 'ave anythink to do with it hisself. Why, I b'leave Sir
+Markham 'ud a murdered 'im if he 'ad, but me, o' course,&mdash;I was only a
+boy, and did as I were told.</p>
+
+<p>Well, sir, a-hactin' under horders, I were a-waitin' with the
+post-chaise at them Burnley Beeches at eleven o'clock. I'd been
+a-waitin' some time, and I begun to be afraid as they weren't a-comin'.
+At last I see a white somethink comin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> along, and in another minute
+they was alongside. I shall never forget that night. Miss Dora fainted
+directly she were inside the carriage, and to me she looked as if she
+were dead. "For God's sake, and for Dora's sake, drive for your life,
+Jim!" said the young Captain, and I just did drive for my werry life. It
+was werry dark and I couldn't see much, and it must a bin a-rainin' or
+summut else,&mdash;anyhow there were a preshus lot o' water got in my eyes,
+till I couldn't see nothink. Father had taken care to git the 'osses in
+good condition, and they went away as though they knew as they were
+a-carryin' their darlin' Dora from death to life.</p>
+
+<p>From the Burnley Beeches I drove as I 'ad been directed, past the Ambly
+Arms, and three mile further I found the great North Road, and there I
+wore. You never know how useful a bit o' information may come in
+sometimes. It were pretty straight work now, and the only thing I 'ad to
+fear was a-wearin' out me 'osses afore we reached the Border. At two
+o'clock we stopped and baited, and the young Captain he give me the tip.
+He says, "Don't go <i>too</i> fast," he ses; "they won't be arter us for an
+hour or two yet, if they come at all. I've given 'em summut else to look
+for fust," 'e ses, "and it'll take 'em all their time."</p>
+
+<p>Weil, there ain't no need to make a long story out o' our run to
+Scotland; we got there safe enough arter imaginin' as we was follered by
+highwaymen, and goblins, and soldiers, and hall sorts o' other hevil
+sperits, which were nothink but fancy arter all.</p>
+
+<p>Why, bless yer, we 'adn't no real need to fear; the young Captain he
+were one too many for 'em, he were, in more ways nor one. Afore he came
+away he smashed a big hole in the ice, in the middle of the lake, and
+put 'is 'at and Miss Dora's muff on the edge of the hole; and they were
+a-breaking up the ice and dragging the lake all Chris'mas Day instead of
+a-follerin' us.</p>
+
+<p>Next thing came the weddin' in the blacksmith's shop, where the young
+Captain took our darling Dora all to hisself, with ne'er a bridesmaid
+but me to give 'er away and everythink<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> else. Poor little Dora, she
+fainted right off ag'in directly it were all over; and the young Captain
+he flushed up regular, like one o' them hero chaps as they put in books.
+I never see such a change in any one afore or since. 'E seemed as if 'e
+could do anything now Miss Dora were hall 'is own. I tell yer, sir, you
+can't fight nothing like 'arf so 'ard for yourself as yer can if you've
+got some one else to fight for.</p>
+
+<p>After the weddin', the Captain put up at the "Blacksmith's Arms," where
+'e writes a long letter to ole Sir Markham, and one to your father,
+Master 'Arry, which he give me to deliver, and with which I started 'ome
+ag'in.</p>
+
+<p>Ole Sir Markham never forgave the young Captain for a-runnin' off wi'
+Miss Dora, and if it 'adn't 'a' bin for your father, Master 'Arry, I
+shouldn't never 'a' come back to the 'All. Arter that they went abroad
+to some foreign place as I never heerd of, and they lost track of 'em up
+at the 'All too arter a bit; though I know as your father, Master 'Arry,
+used to send 'em lots o' things without Sir Markham a-knowin' anythink
+about it. And then came the letter with the black edge as said as our
+Dora 'ad died o' one of them furren fevers as I didn't even know the
+name of, and arter that we never heard no more. Poor ole Sir Markham
+began to break up werry soon arter that. He were not like the same man
+arter Miss Dora went, and werry soon 'e kept to the 'ouse altogether,
+and we never saw nothink of 'im out o' doors.</p>
+
+<p>Next thing we 'eard as he were ill, and everybody were a-wishin' as Miss
+Dora 'ud come back and comfort 'im. At last, when he were really
+a-dyin', 'e kep' on a-callin' her, "Dora, Dora," in 'is wanderin's like,
+and nobody couldn't answer 'im, their 'arts was that full as there
+weren't no room for words. I remember that night, sir, as if it were
+yesterday, and yet it were forty year ago, Master 'Arry, ten year afore
+you were born. It were Chris'mas Eve, and ole Sir Markham he were
+keepin' on a-haskin' for Miss Dora, and I couldn't stand it no longer,
+so I come over 'ere to smoke my pipe and be to myself, yer see, and bide
+my feelin's like. Well, I were a-sittin' on a stool in that there
+corner, a-thinkin' about ole Sir Markham<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> and our darlin' Dora, when I
+looks up, and as true as I ever see anythin' in my life I see her
+a-standin' there afore me. She didn't take no notice of me, though, but
+she run into Snowflake's stall there, sir, and buried her pretty face in
+'is neck and stroked his mane and patted his sides, then she laughed one
+o' her silv'ry laughs and clapped 'er 'ands and calls out, "'Ome again,
+'ome again at last; happy, happy 'ome. Jim, Jim, where's that lazy Jim?"
+But lor', sir, she were gone ag'in afore I could get up off the stool. I
+rushed up to the 'All like lightnin', I can tell yer, and I see a bright
+light a-shinin' in ole Sir Markham's bedroom. I never knowed 'ow I got
+up them stairs, but I heerd ole Sir Markham cry out as loud as ever I
+heerd 'im in my life, "Dora, Dora, come at last; darling Dora, darling!"
+'E never said no more, did ole Sir Markham, she had taken 'im away.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>You'll excuse me a-haskin' you not to lean ag'in that post, won't you,
+sir? It's a kind o' sort o' friend o' mine. There ain't a sorrow as I've
+ever had these forty year that I haven't shared with that post. It 'ave
+been watered by little Dora's tears, and it 'ave been watered by mine,
+and there ain't nothink in the 'ole world as I walues more. It ain't for
+the likes o' me to talk o' lovin' a hangel like 'er, sir, but I 'av'n't
+never loved no one else from that day to this, and maybe when my turn
+comes at last, Master 'Arry, to go where there ain't no difference
+between rich and poor, I may 'ear 'er bright sweet voice cry out ag'in
+to me: "'Ome ag'in, Jim: happy, happy 'ome!"</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="LITTLE_PEACE" id="LITTLE_PEACE"></a>LITTLE PEACE.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY NORA RYEMAN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the heart of England stands a sleepy hollow called "Green Corner,"
+and in this same sleepy hollow stands a fine old English manor house
+styled "Green Corner Manor." It belongs to the Medlicott family, who
+have owned it for generations. In their picture gallery hangs a most
+singular picture, which is known far and wide as "The Portrait of Little
+Peace." It depicts a beautiful child in the quaint and picturesque
+costume of the age of King Charles II. A lamb stands by her side, and a
+tame ringdove is perched on her wrist. Her eyes are deeply, darkly blue,
+the curls which "fall adown her back are yellow, like ripe corn."
+Beneath this portrait in tarnished golden letters are these words of
+Holy Writ, "Blessed are the peacemakers," and if you read the chronicles
+of the Medlicott family you will read the history of this child. It was
+written by Dame Ursula, the wife of Godfrey Medlicott, and runs as
+under:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It was New Year's Eve, and my heart was heavy, so also was my
+husband's. For 'Verily our house had been left unto us desolate.' Our
+son Hilary had died in France, and our daughter, Grace, slept in the
+chancel of the parish church with dusty banners once borne by heroic
+Medlicotts waving over her marble tomb. 'Would God, that I had died for
+thee, my boy,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> said dead Hilary's father when he looked at the empty
+chair in the chimney corner; 'and, my darling, life is savourless
+without thee,' I cried in bitterness of spirit, as I looked at the
+little plot of garden ground which had been known as Mistress Gracie's
+garden when my sweet one lived. Scarcely had this cry escaped my lips
+when a most strange thing befel. Seated on the last of the terrace steps
+was a little child, who as I passed her stretched out her hand and
+caught fast hold of my gown. I looked down, and there, beside me, was a
+most singular and beautiful child. The moonlight fell on her small, pale
+face and long, yellow hair, and I saw that she was both poorly and
+plainly clad. 'What do you want, my little maid?' I asked. 'You, madam,'
+she said serenely. 'From whence have you come?' was my next query. 'From
+a prison in London town,' was the strange reply. Doubtless this child
+(so I reasoned) was the daughter of some poor man who had suffered for
+conscience' sake; and, mayhap, some person who pitied his sad plight had
+taken the girl and thrown her on our charity, or, rather, mercy.
+'Child,' said I, 'wilt come into the Manor with me, and have some
+chocolate and cake?' 'That will I, madam,' she answered softly. 'I came
+on purpose to stay with you.' The little one has partly lost her wits, I
+thought, but I said nothing, and the stranger trotted after me into my
+own parlour, just as a tame lamb or a little dog might have done. She
+took her seat on a tabouret at my knee, and ate her spiced cake and
+sipped her chocolate with a pretty, modest air. Just so was my Gracie
+wont to sit, and even as I thought of her my dim eyes grew dimmer still
+with tears. At last they fell, and some of them dropped on the strange
+guest's golden head, which she had confidingly placed on my knee.
+'Don't, sweet madam,' she said, 'don't grieve overmuch! You will find
+balm in giving balm! You will find comfort in giving comfort! For <i>I am
+Peace</i>, and I have come to tarry with you for a little space!' I
+perceived that the child's wits were astray, but, somehow, I felt
+strangely drawn to her, and as she had nowhere else to go I kept her
+with me, and that New Year's Eve she slept in my Grace's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> bed, and on
+the succeeding day she was clothed in one of my lost ewe lamb's gowns,
+and all in the household styled her Little Peace, because she gave no
+other name at all.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>"Time passed on&mdash;and the strange child still abode with us, and every
+day we loved her more, for she 'went about doing good,' and, what is
+more, became my schoolmistress, and instructed me in the holy art of
+charity. For my own great woe had made me forgetful of the woes and
+afflictions of others. This is how she went about her work. One winter
+day, when the fountain in the park was frozen, the child, who had been
+a-walking, came up to me and said, 'Dear madam, are apples good?' 'Of a
+surety they are&mdash;excellent for dessert, and also baked, with spiced ale.
+Wherefore dost ask?' 'Because old Gaffer Cressidge, and the dame his
+wife, are sitting eating baked apples and dry bread over in Ashete
+village, and methinks that soup would suit them better. Madam, we must
+set the pot boiling, and I will take them some. And, madam, dear, there
+must be a cupboard in this house.' 'Alack, my pretty one,' said I, 'of
+cupboards we already have enow. There is King Charles's cupboard in
+which we hid his Majesty after Worcester fight, and the green and blue
+closet, as well as many others. Sure, you prattle of that of which you
+do not know.' She shook her fair, bright head, and answered, 'Nay,
+madam, there is no strangers' cupboard for forlorn wayfarers, and there
+must be one, full of food, and wine, and physic, and sweet,
+health-restoring cordials. And the birdies must have a breakfast daily.
+Dorothy, the cookmaid, must boil bread in skimmed milk, and throw it on
+the lawn; then Master Robin and Master Thrush and Mistress Jenny Wren
+will all feast together. I once saw the little princes, in King Edward's
+time, feed the birdies thus; and so did Willie Shakespeare, in Stratford
+town.' Alas, I thought, alas, all is <i>now too</i> plain. This child must
+have been akin to some great scholar, who taught her his own lore, and
+too much learning hath assuredly made her mad; but I will humour her,
+and then will try to bring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> her poor wits home. Thus reasoning, I placed
+her by my side, and cast my arms around her, and then I whispered, 'Tell
+me of thyself.' 'That will I,' she replied. 'I am Peace, and I come both
+in storms and after them. I came to Joan the Maid, on her stone scaffold
+in the Market Place of Rouen. I came to Rachel Russel when she sustained
+her husband's courage. I came to M&egrave;re Toinette, the brown-faced peasant
+woman, when she denied herself for her children. I came to Gaffer and
+Grannie Cressidge as they smiled at each other when eating the apples
+and bread. And I came to a man named Bunyan in his prison, and lo! he
+wrote of <i>me</i>. Now I have come to you.' 'Yea, to stay with me,' I said,
+but she answered not, she only kissed my hand, and on the morrow, when
+the wintry sunlight shone on all things within the manor house, it did
+<i>not</i> shine upon her golden head! Her little bed was empty, so was her
+little chair; but the place she had filled in my heart was <i>still</i>
+filled, and so I think it will be for ever! Some there are who call her
+a Good Fay or Fairy, and some there are who call her by another and
+sweeter name, but I think of her always as Little Peace, the hope giver,
+who came to teach me when my eyes were dim with grief. For no one can
+tell in what form a blessing will cross his threshold and dwell beside
+him as his helper, friend, and guest."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_STORY_OF_WASSILI_AND_DARIA" id="THE_STORY_OF_WASSILI_AND_DARIA"></a>THE STORY OF WASSILI AND DARIA.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A RUSSIAN STORY.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ROBERT GUILLEMARD.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Whilst staying in Siberia, on one occasion, when returning from an
+evening walk in the woods I was surprised at seeing a young Russian girl
+crying beside a clump of trees; she seemed pretty, and I approached; she
+saw me not, but continued to give vent to her tears.</p>
+
+<p>I stopped to examine her appearance; her black hair, arranged in the
+fashion of the country, flowed from under the diadem usually worn by the
+Siberian girls, and formed a striking contrast, by its jet black colour,
+with the fairness of her skin. Whilst I was looking at her, she turned
+her head, and, perceiving me, rose in great haste, wiped off her tears,
+and said to me:</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, father&mdash;but I am very unfortunate."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish," said I, "that it were in my power to give you any
+consolation."</p>
+
+<p>"I expect no consolation," she replied; "it is out of your power to give
+me any."</p>
+
+<p>"But why are you crying?"</p>
+
+<p>She was silent, and her sobs alone intimated that she was deeply
+afflicted.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you have committed any fault," said I, "that has roused your
+father's anger against you?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is angry with me, it is true; but is it my fault if I cannot love
+his Aphanassi?"</p>
+
+<p>The subject now began to be interesting; for as Chateaubriand says,
+there were love and tears at the bottom of this story. I felt peculiarly
+interested in the narrative.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>I asked the young Siberian girl who this Aphanassi was whom she could
+not love. She became more composed, and with enchanting grace, and
+almost French volubility, she informed me that the summer before a
+Baskir family had travelled further to the north than these tribes are
+accustomed to do, and had brought their flocks into the neighbourhood of
+the zavode of Tchorna&iuml;a; they came from time to time to the village to
+buy things, and to sell the gowns called <i>doubas</i>, which their wives dye
+of a yellow colour with the bark of the birch tree. Now her father, the
+respectable Michael, was a shopkeeper, and constant communications began
+to be established between the Baskir and the Russian family. This
+connection became more close, when it was discovered that both families
+were of that sect which pretends to have preserved its religion free
+from all pollution or mixture, and gives its members the name of
+<i>Stareobratzi</i>. The head of the Baskir family, Aphanassi, soon fell in
+love with young Daria, and asked her in marriage from her father; but
+though wealthy, Aphanassi had a rough and repulsive look, and Daria
+could not bear him; she had, therefore, given him an absolute refusal.
+Her father doated on her, and had not pressed the matter farther, though
+he was desirous of forming an alliance so advantageous to his trade; and
+the Baskir had returned to his own country in the month of August to
+gather the crops of hemp and rye. But winter passed away, and the heats
+of June had scarcely been felt before Aphanassi had again appeared, with
+an immense quantity of bales of rich <i>doubas</i>, Chinese belts, and
+kaftans, and a herd of more than five hundred horses; he came, in fact,
+surrounded with all his splendour, and renewed again his offers and his
+entreaties. Old Michael was nearly gained by his offers, and Daria was
+in despair, for she was about to be sacrificed to gain, and she detested
+Aphanassi more than she had done the year before.</p>
+
+<p>I listened to her with strong emotion, pitied her sorrows, which had so
+easily procured me her confidence, and when she left me, she was less
+afflicted than before.</p>
+
+<p>The next day I returned to the spot where I had seen her,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> and found her
+again; she received me with a smile. Aphanassi had not come that
+morning, and Daria, probably thinking that I would come back to the
+spot, had come to ask me what she ought to reply to him, as well as to
+her father. I gave her my advice with a strong feeling of interest, and
+convinced that pity would henceforward open to me the road to her heart,
+I tried to become acquainted with her family. The same evening I bought
+some things from old Michael, and flattering him on his judgment and
+experience, endeavoured to lay the foundation of intimacy.</p>
+
+<p>During several days I went regularly to the same spot, and almost always
+found Daria, as if we had appointed a meeting. Her melancholy increased;
+every time she saw me she asked for further advice, and although she
+showed me nothing but confidence, yet the habit of seeing her, of
+deploring her situation, of having near me a young and beautiful woman,
+after hearing for many, many months no other voices than the rough ones
+of officers, soldiers, and smiths&mdash;all these circumstances affected my
+heart with unusual emotion.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of Daria reminded me of the circumstances of my first love;
+and these recollections, in their turn, embellished Daria with all their
+charms.</p>
+
+<p>One day she said to me:</p>
+
+<p>"You have seen Aphanassi this morning at my father's; don't you think he
+is very rough, and has an ugly, ill-natured countenance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I will show you whom I prefer to him." She smiled in saying this,
+and I was powerfully affected, as if she had been about to say, "You are
+the man!" She then threw back the gauze veil that flowed from her
+head-dress, and instantly, at a certain signal, a young man sprung from
+behind the trees and cried out to me:</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Frenchman, for your good advice! I am Wassili, the friend of
+Daria!"</p>
+
+<p>This sight perfectly confounded me. So close to love, and to be nothing
+but a confidant after all! I blushed for shame,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> but Daria soon
+dispelled this impulse of ill-humour. She said to me:</p>
+
+<p>"Wassili, whom I have never mentioned to you, is my friend; I was
+desirous of making you acquainted with him. But he was jealous because
+you gave me consolation and I wished him to remain concealed from you,
+that he might be convinced by your language of the worthiness of your
+sentiments. Wassili will love you as I do; stranger, still give us your
+advice!"</p>
+
+<p>The words of Daria calmed my trouble; and I felt happy that, at a
+thousand leagues from my native land, in the bosom of an enemy's
+country, I was bound by no tie to a foreign soil, but could still afford
+consolation to two beings in misfortune.</p>
+
+<p>Wassili was handsome and amiable; he was also wealthy; but Aphanassi was
+much more so, and old Michael, though formerly flattered with the
+attentions of Wassili to his daughter, now rejected them with disdain.
+We agreed upon a plan of attack against the Baskir. I talked to Michael
+several times on the subject, and tried to arrange their differences;
+but it was of no avail.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile took place the feast of St. John, the patron saint of
+Tchorna&iuml;a, which assembled all the inhabitants of the neighbouring
+villages.</p>
+
+<p>Early in the morning of the holiday, the whole of the inhabitants,
+dressed in their finest clothes, get into a number of little narrow
+boats, made of a single tree, like the canoes of the South Sea savages.
+A man is placed in the middle with one oar in his hands, and strikes the
+water first on one side and then on the other, and makes the boat move
+forward with great velocity. These frail skiffs are all in a line, race
+against each other, and perform a variety of evolutions on the lake. The
+women are placed at the bow and stern, and sing national songs, while
+the men are engaged in a variety of exercises and amusements on the
+shore. A large barge, carrying the heads of the village and the most
+distinguished inhabitants, contains a band of music, whose harmony
+contrasts with the songs that are heard from the other boats.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>Beautiful weather usually prevails at this season, and the day closes
+with dances and suppers in the open air; and the lake of Tchorna&iuml;a,
+naturally of a solitary aspect, becomes all at once full of life and
+animation, and presents an enchanting prospect.</p>
+
+<p>Wassili had got several boats ready, which were filled with musicians,
+who attracted general attention, and were soon followed by almost all
+the skiffs in the same way as the gondolas in the Venetian lagoons
+follow the musical amateurs who sing during the night. Wassili knew that
+Michael would be flattered to hear an account of the success he had
+obtained: but Aphanassi had also come to the festival. As soon as he
+learned that the musicians of Wassili were followed by the crowd, and
+that his rival's name was in every one's mouth, he collected twenty of
+his finest horses, covered them with rich stuffs, and, as soon as the
+sports on the lake were over, began, by the sound of Tartar music, a
+series of races on the shore, which was a novel sight in the summer
+season, and was generally admired. His triumph was complete, and at
+Tchorna&iuml;a nothing was talked of for several days but the races on the
+shore of the lake, and the Baskir's influence with Michael increased
+considerably.</p>
+
+<p>The grief of Daria made her father suspect that she met Wassili out of
+the house, and he confined her at home. I saw none but the young man,
+whose communications were far from being so pleasing to me as those of
+Daria. Towards the end of July he informed me that Aphanassi had made
+another attempt to get her from her father; but that the old man was so
+overcome with her despair that he had only agreed that the marriage
+should take place the ensuing summer, delaying the matter under the
+pretext of getting her portion ready, but, in truth, to give her time to
+make up her mind to follow the Baskir.</p>
+
+<p>About this period Wassili was sent by M. Demidoff's agent, at the head
+of a body of workmen, to the centre of the Ural Mountains to cut down
+trees and burn them into charcoal. He was not to return till the middle
+of September.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> During his absence I saw Daria almost daily; she had lost
+the brilliancy of her look, but it seemed to me that her beauty was
+increased, her countenance had assumed such an expression of melancholy.
+I had gradually obtained the goodwill of Michael, and dispelled, as far
+as lay in my power, the sorrows of his daughter. I was a foreigner, a
+prisoner, little to be feared, and pretty well off in regard to money,
+so that Michael felt no alarm at seeing me, and neglected no opportunity
+of showing me his goodwill.</p>
+
+<p>I received a strong proof of this about the middle of August. He brought
+me to a family festival that takes place at the gathering of the
+cabbage, and to which women only are usually admitted; it is, in fact,
+their vintage season.</p>
+
+<p>On the day that a family is to gather in their cabbage, which they salt
+and lay up for the winter season, the women invite their female friends
+and neighbours to come and assist them. On the evening before, they cut
+the cabbages from the stem, and pull off the outside leaves and earth
+that may be adhering to them. On the grand day, at the house where the
+cabbages are collected, the women assemble, dressed in their most
+brilliant manner, and armed with a sort of cleaver, with a handle in the
+centre, more or less ornamented, according to the person's rank. They
+place themselves round a kind of trough containing the cabbages. The old
+women give the signal for action; two of the youngest girls take their
+places in the middle of the room, and begin to dance a kind of
+allemande, while the rest of the women sing national songs, and keep
+time in driving their knives into the trough. When the girls are tired
+with dancing, two more take their place, always eager to surpass the
+former by the grace with which they make their movements. The songs
+continue without intermission, and the cabbages are thus cut up in the
+midst of a ball, which lasts from morning till night. Meanwhile, the
+married women carry on the work, salt the cabbages, and carefully pack
+them in barrels. In the evening the whole party sit down to supper,
+after which only the men are admitted, but even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> then they remain apart
+from the women. Glasses of wine and punch go round, dancing begins in a
+more general manner, and they withdraw at a late hour, to begin the same
+amusement at another neighbour's till all the harvest is finished.</p>
+
+<p>Amidst all these young girls Daria always seemed to me the most amiable!
+she danced when called upon by her mother; her motions expressed
+satisfaction, and her eyes, scarcely refraining from tears, turned
+towards the stranger, who alone knew her real situation, though amidst
+so many indifferent people who called themselves her friends.</p>
+
+<p>Towards the end of September, Wassili returned from the woods. Daria had
+a prospect of several months before her before the return of Aphanassi,
+if ever he should return at all; and she gave herself up to her love
+with pleasing improvidence.</p>
+
+<p>At this period there came to Tchorna&iuml;a two Russian officers, with
+several sergeants, who were much more like Cossacks than regular
+soldiers. Their appearance was the signal of universal mourning&mdash;they
+came to recruit. They proclaimed, in the Emperor's name, that on a
+certain day all the men in the district, whatever their age might be,
+were to assemble in the public square, there to be inspected.</p>
+
+<p>At the appointed day every one was on the spot; but it was easy to see
+by their looks that it was with the utmost repugnance that they had
+obeyed. All the women were placed on the other side, and anxiously
+waited for the result of the inspection, and some of them were crying
+bitterly. I was present at this scene. The officers placed the men in
+two rows, and passed along the ranks very slowly. Now and then they
+touched a man, and he was immediately taken to a little group that was
+formed in the centre of the square. When they had run over the two rows,
+they again inspected the men that had been set apart, made them walk and
+strip, <i>verified</i> them, in a word, such as our recruiting <i>councils</i> did
+in our departments for many years. When a man was examined he was
+allowed to go, when the crowd raised a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> shout of joy; or he was
+immediately put in irons, in presence of his family, who raised cries of
+despair&mdash;this man was fit for service.</p>
+
+<p>These unfortunate beings, thus chained up, were kept out of view till
+the very moment of their departure. No claims were valid against the
+recruiting officer; age, marriage, the duties required to be paid to an
+infirm parent, were all of no avail; sometimes, indeed, it happened, and
+that but rarely, that a secret arrangement with the officer, for a sum
+of money, saved a young man, a husband, or a father from his caprice,
+for he was bound by no rule; it often happened, also, that he marked out
+for the army a young man whose wife or mistress was coveted by the
+neighbouring lord, or whom injustice had irritated and rendered
+suspected.</p>
+
+<p>To finish this description, which has made me leave my friends out of
+view, at a very melancholy period, I shall add a few more particulars.</p>
+
+<p>Wassili, as I said before, was at the review; the recruiting officer
+thought he would make a handsome dragoon, or a soldier of the guard,
+and, having looked at him from top to toe, he declared him fit for the
+army.</p>
+
+<p>Whilst his family were deploring his fate, and preparing to make every
+sacrifice to obtain his discharge, some one cried out that the officer
+would allow him to get off because he was wealthy, but that the poor
+must march.</p>
+
+<p>The Russian heard this, and perhaps on the point of making a bargain,
+felt irritated, and would listen to no sort of arrangement, as a
+scoundrel always does when you have been on the point of buying. Wassili
+was put in irons, and destined to unlimited service&mdash;that is, to an
+eternal exile, for the Russian soldier is never allowed to return to his
+home.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Daria nearly fell a victim to her grief, and only recovered
+some portion of vigour when the recruits were to set out.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> He is enrolled for twenty years&mdash;that is, for a whole
+life.</p></div>
+
+<p>On that day the recruiting party gorge them with meat and brandy till
+they are nearly dead drunk. They are then thrown into the sledges and
+carried off, still loaded with irons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>. A most heart-rending scene now
+takes place; every family follows them with their cries, and chants the
+prayers for the dead and the dying, while the unfortunate conscripts
+themselves, besotted with liquor, remain stupid and indifferent, burst
+into roars of laughter, or answer their friends with oaths and
+imprecations.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the force that had been shown to him, Wassili had drunk
+nothing, and preserved his judgment unclouded; he stretched out his arms
+towards Daria, towards his friends, and towards me, and bade us adieu
+with many tears. Amidst the mournful sounds that struck upon her ears,
+the young girl followed him rapidly, and had time to throw herself into
+his arms before the sledge set out; but the moment he was beyond her
+reach, she fell backward with violence on the ice. No one paid the least
+attention to her; they all rushed forward and followed the sledges of
+the recruiting party, which soon galloped out of sight. I lifted Daria
+up; I did not attempt to restrain her grief, but took her back to her
+father's, where she was paid every attention her situation required. In
+about a month's time she was able to resume her usual occupations, but
+she recovered only a portion of her former self.</p>
+
+<p>Winter again set in. I often saw Daria, either at her father's house, or
+when she walked out on purpose to meet me, which her father allowed, in
+the hope of dissipating her sorrows. How the poor girl was altered since
+the departure of Wassili! How many sad things the young Siberian told me
+when our sledges glided together along the surface of the lake! What
+melancholy there was in her language, and superstition in her belief!</p>
+
+<p>I attempted to dissipate her sombre thoughts; but I soon perceived that
+everything brought them back to her mind, and that the sight of this
+savage nature, whose solitude affected my own thoughts with sorrow,
+contributed to increase her melancholy. Within her own dwelling she was
+less agitated, but more depressed; her fever was then languid, and her
+beautiful face despoiled of that expression, full of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> agreeable
+recollections, that animated her in our private conversation. These
+walks could only make her worse, and I endeavoured to avoid them. She
+understood my meaning. "Go," said she, "kind Frenchman, you are taking
+fruitless care; Wassili has taken my life away with him; it cannot
+return any more than he can."</p>
+
+<p>I still continued to see her frequently. Old Michael was unhappy because
+she wept on hearing even the name of Aphanassi; he foresaw that it would
+be out of his power to have this wealthy man for his son-in-law, for his
+promises had gained his heart long ago. However this may be, he made his
+preparations in secret, bought fine silks, and ordered a magnificent
+diadem to be made for his daughter. She guessed his object, and once
+said to me, "My father is preparing a handsome ornament for me; it is
+intended for the last time I shall be at church; let him make haste, for
+Daria won't keep him waiting."</p>
+
+<p>About the middle of June Aphanassi returned, more in love and more eager
+than ever, and, as soon as he appeared, the daughter of Michael was
+attacked by a burning fever that never left her. In a few days she was
+at the gates of death. All the care bestowed upon her was of no avail,
+and she died pronouncing the name of Wassili.</p>
+
+<p>Full of profound grief, I followed her body to the church of the
+Stareobratzi, at Nishnei-Taguil. It had been dressed in her finest
+clothing, and she was placed in the coffin with her face uncovered. The
+relations, friends, and members of the same church were present. The men
+were ranged on one side, and the women on the other. After a funeral
+hymn, in the language of the country, the priest, who was bare-headed,
+pronounced the eulogium of the defunct. His grey hair, long beard,
+Asiatic gown, and loud sobs, gave his discourse a peculiar solemnity.
+When it was finished, every one came forward silently to bid farewell to
+Daria, and kiss her hand. I went like the rest; like them I went alone
+towards the coffin, took hold of the hand I had so often pressed, and
+gave it the last farewell kiss.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="genre"><a name="PLUCK_PERIL_ADVENTURE" id="PLUCK_PERIL_ADVENTURE"></a>PLUCK, PERIL &amp; ADVENTURE.</h2>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="MARJORIE_MAY_A_WILFUL_YOUNG_WOMAN" id="MARJORIE_MAY_A_WILFUL_YOUNG_WOMAN"></a>MARJORIE MAY: A WILFUL YOUNG WOMAN.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"How perfectly delightful! Just fancy riding along those lovely sands,
+and seeing real live Bedouins on their horses or camels! I declare I see
+camels padding along now! I wish it wouldn't get dark so fast. But the
+city will look lovely when the moon is up."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it quite safe?" asked a lady passenger, eager for the proposed
+excursion, but a little timid in such strange surroundings. For Mogador
+seemed like the ends of the earth to her. She had never been for a sea
+voyage before.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; safe enough, or Captain Taylor would never have arranged it.
+Of course, it might not be safe to go quite alone; but a party
+together&mdash;why, it's as safe as Regent Street."</p>
+
+<p>"What is this excursion they are all talking about?" asked Marjorie May,
+who had been standing apart in the bow of the boat, trying to dash in
+the effect of the sunset lights upon the solemn, lonely African
+mountains, with the white city sleeping on the edge of the sea,
+surrounded by its stretch of desert. It was too dark for further
+sketching, and the first bell had sounded for dinner. She joined the
+group of passengers, eagerly discussing the proposed jaunt for the
+morrow. Several voices answered her.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>"Oh, the captain is going to arrange a sort of picnic for us to-morrow.
+We have all day in harbour, you know, and part of the next. So to-morrow
+we are to go ashore and take donkeys, and ride out along the shore there
+for several miles, to some queer place or other, where they will arrange
+lunch for us; and we can wander about and see the place, and get back on
+board in time for dinner; and next day we can see the town. That only
+takes an hour or so. We leave after lunch, but it will give plenty of
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"I think the town sounds more interesting than the donkey-rides," said
+Marjorie. "I had not time to sketch in Tangiers, except just a few
+figures dashed off anyhow. I must make some studies of the Arabs and
+Nubians and Bedouins here. I shan't get another chance. This is the last
+African port we stop at."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I daresay you'll have plenty of time for sketching," answered her
+cabin companion to whom she had spoken; "but I wouldn't miss the ride if
+I were you. It'll be quite a unique experience."</p>
+
+<p>The dinner-bell rang, and the company on board the <i>Oratava</i> took their
+seats in the pleasant upper deck saloon, where there was fresh air to be
+had, and glimpses through the windows of the darkening sky, the rising
+moon and brightening stars.</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie's next-door neighbours were, on one side, the lady whose cabin
+she shared, on the other a Mr. Stuart, with whom she waged a frequent
+warfare. He was an experienced traveller, whilst she was quite
+inexperienced; and sometimes he had spoken to her with an air of
+authority which she resented, had nipped in the bud some pet project of
+hers, or had overthrown some cherished theory by the weight of his
+knowledge of stern facts.</p>
+
+<p>But he had been to Mogador before, and Marjorie condescended to-night to
+be gracious and ask questions. She was keenly interested in what she
+heard. There was a Jewish quarter in the city as well as the Arab one.
+There was a curious market. The whole town was very curious, being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> all
+built in arcades and squares. It was not the least like Tangiers, he
+told her, which was the only African town Marjorie had yet visited. This
+cruise of the <i>Oratava</i> had been a little unfortunate. The surf had been
+so heavy along the coast, that the passengers had not been able to land
+at any port of call since leaving Tangiers. They had had perforce to
+remain upon the vessel whilst cargo was being taken on and shipped off.
+But the sea had now calmed down. The restless Atlantic was quieting
+itself. The vessel at anchor in the little harbour scarcely moved. The
+conditions were all favourable for good weather, and the passengers were
+confident of their pleasure trip on the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>As Marjorie heard Mr. Stuart's description of the old town&mdash;one of the
+most ancient in Africa&mdash;she was more and more resolved not to waste
+precious moments in a stupid donkey-ride across the desert. Of course it
+would be interesting in its way; but she had had excellent views of the
+desert at several ports, whereas the interior of the old city was a
+thing altogether new.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose it's quite a safe place?" she asked carelessly; and Mr.
+Stuart answered at once:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, perfectly safe. There are several English families living in
+it. I lived there a year once. Of course, a stranger lady would not walk
+about there alone; she might get lost in the perplexing arcades, and
+Arab towns are never too sweet or too suitable for a lady to go about in
+by herself. But I shall go and look up my friends there. It's safe
+enough in that sense."</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie's eyes began to sparkle under their long lashes. A plan was
+fermenting in her brain.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I shall spend my day there sketching," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"All right; only you mustn't be alone," answered Mr. Stuart in his
+rather imperious way. "You'd better take Colquhoun and his sister along
+with you. They're artists, and he knows something of the language and
+the ways of the Arabs."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>A mutinous look came over Marjorie's face. She was not going to join
+company with Mr. and Miss Colquhoun any more. She had struck up a rather
+impulsive friendship with them at the outset of the voyage, but now she
+could not bear them. It was not an exceptional experience with her. She
+was eager to be friends with all the world; but again and again she
+discovered that too promiscuous friendship was not always wise. It had
+been so in this case, and Mr. Colquhoun had gone too far in some of his
+expressions of admiration. Marjorie had discovered that his views were
+much too lax to please her. She had resolved to have very little more to
+do with them for the future. To ask to join them on the morrow, even if
+they were going sketching, was a thing she could not and would not
+condescend to.</p>
+
+<p>No, her mind was quickly made up. It was all nonsense about its not
+being safe. Why, there were English families and agents living in the
+place, and she would never be silly and lose herself or her head. She
+would land with the rest. There were about five-and-twenty passengers,
+and all of them would go ashore, and most would probably go for the
+donkey-ride into the desert. But she would quietly slip away, and nobody
+would be anxious. Some would think she had gone with the Colquhouns, who
+always sketched, or perhaps with Mr. Stuart, who had taken care of her
+in Tangiers. She was an independent member of society&mdash;nobody's especial
+charge. In the crowded streets of an Arab town nothing would be easier
+than to slip away from the party soon after landing; and then she would
+have a glorious day of liberty, wandering about, and making her own
+studies and sketches, and joining the rest at the appointed time, when
+they would be going back to the ship.</p>
+
+<p>So Marjorie put her paints and sketching pad up, provided herself with
+everything needful, and slept happily in her narrow berth, eagerly
+waiting for the morrow, when so many new wonders would be revealed.</p>
+
+<p>The morning dawned clear and fair, and Marjorie was early on deck,
+watching with delight the beautiful effects<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> of light as the sun rose
+over the solemn mountains and lighted up the wide, lonely desert wastes.
+She could see the caravans of camels coming citywards, could watch the
+sunbeams falling upon the white walls, domes, and flat roofs of the
+ancient town. She watched the cargo boats coming out with their loads,
+and the familiar rattle of the steam crane and the shouts of the men
+were in her ears. The deck was alive with curious forms of Arabs come to
+display their wares. A turbaned man in one of the boats below was
+eagerly offering a splendid-looking, sable-black Nubian for sale, and
+Mr. Colquhoun was amusing himself by chaffering as though he meant to
+buy, which he could have done for the sum of eight pounds; for there is
+a slave market yet in Mogador, where men and women are driven in like
+cattle to be bought and sold.</p>
+
+<p>A duck had escaped from the steward's stores and was triumphantly
+disporting himself in the green water. The steward had offered a reward
+of half a dozen empty soda-water bottles to the person who would
+recapture the bird, and two boats were in hot pursuit, whilst little
+brown Arab boys kept diving in to try to swim down the agile duck, who,
+however, succeeded in dodging them all with a neatness and sense of
+humour that evoked much applause from the on-lookers. Marjorie heard
+afterwards that it took three hours to effect the capture, and that at
+least a dozen men or boys had taken part in it, but the reward offered
+had amply contented them for their time and trouble.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast was quickly despatched that morning. Marjorie was almost too
+excited to eat. She was full of delightful anticipations of a romantic,
+independent day. Mr. Stuart's voice interrupted the pleasant current of
+her thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you like to come with me, Miss May? My friends would be very
+pleased, I am sure. We could show you the town, and you would be sure of
+a good lunch." He added the last words a little mischievously, because
+Marjorie was often annoyed at the persistent way in which people made
+everything subservient to meals. A bit of bread and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> a few dates or an
+orange seemed to her quite sufficient sustenance between a ship's
+breakfast and dinner.</p>
+
+<p>But such a commonplace way of spending a day was not in the least in
+accord with Marjorie's views. She thought she knew exactly what it would
+be like to go with Mr. Stuart&mdash;a hurried walk through the town, an
+introduction to a family of strangers, who would wish her anywhere else,
+the obligation to sit still in a drawing-room or on a verandah whilst
+Mr. Stuart told all the news from England, and then the inevitable
+lunch, with only time for a perfunctory examination of the city. She
+would not have minded seeing one of the houses where the English
+families lived, but she could not sacrifice her day just for that.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, thank you, but I have made my plans," she answered quickly; "I must
+do some sketching. I've not done half as much as I intended when I
+started. I am a professional woman, you know, Mr. Stuart; I can't amuse
+myself all day like you."</p>
+
+<p>This was Marjorie's little bit of revenge for some of Mr. Stuart's
+remarks to her at different times, when she had chosen to think that he
+was making game of her professional work.</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie was not exactly dependent upon her pencil and brush. She had a
+small income of her own; but she would not have been able to live as she
+did, or to enjoy the occasional jaunts abroad in which her soul
+delighted, had it not been that she had won for herself a place as
+illustrator upon one or two magazines. This trip was taken partly with a
+view to getting new subjects for the illustration of a story, a good
+deal of which was laid abroad and in the East. An Eastern tour was
+beyond Marjorie's reach; but she had heard of these itinerary trips by
+which for the modest sum of twenty guineas, she could travel as a
+first-class passenger and see Gibraltar, Tangiers, several African
+ports, including Mogador, the Canary Islands, and Madeira, and be back
+again in London within the month. She was a good sailor, and even the
+Bay had no terrors for her; so she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> enjoyed herself to the full the
+whole time. But she had not done as much work upon Arab subjects as she
+had hoped, and she was resolved not to let this day be wasted.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stuart would have offered advice; but Marjorie was in one of her
+contrary moods, and was afraid of his ending by joining her, and
+sacrificing his own day for her sake. She had a vaguely uneasy feeling
+that what she intended to do would not be thought quite "proper," and
+that Mr. Stuart would disapprove rather vehemently. She was quite
+resolved not to allow Mr. Stuart's prejudices to influence her. What was
+he to her that she should care for his approval or good opinion? After
+the conclusion of the voyage she would never see him again. She never
+wanted to, she said sometimes to herself, rather angrily; he was an
+interfering kind of autocratic man, for whom she felt a considerable
+dislike&mdash;and yet, somehow, Marjorie was occasionally conscious that she
+thought more about Mr. Stuart than about all the rest of the passengers
+put together.</p>
+
+<p>It was very interesting getting off in the boats, and being rowed to the
+city by the shouting, gesticulating Arabs. Marjorie liked the masterful
+way of the captain and ship's officers with these dusky denizens of the
+desert. They seemed to be so completely the lords of creation, yet were
+immensely popular with the swarms of natives, who hung about the ship
+the whole time she was in harbour. The quay was alive with picturesque
+figures as they approached; but they did not land there. They passed
+under an archway into a smaller basin, and were rowed across this to
+another landing-place, where the same swarms of curious spectators
+awaited them.</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie's fingers were itching after brush and pencil. Everything about
+her seemed a living picture, but for the moment she was forced to remain
+with her fellow-passengers; and Mr. Stuart walked beside her, vainly
+offering to carry her impedimenta.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you," answered Marjorie briskly; "I like to have my own
+things myself. I am not used to being waited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> on. Besides, you are going
+to your friends. Oh, what a curious place! what big squares! And it's so
+beautifully clean too! Call Arab towns dirty? Why, there's no dirt
+anywhere; and oh, look at those people over yonder! What are they
+doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Washing their clothes by treading on them. They always chant that sort
+of sing-song whilst they are trampling them in the water. That is the
+custom-house yonder, where they are taking the cargo we have just sent
+off. Now we must go through the gate, and so into the town; but you will
+find it all like this&mdash;one square or arcade leading into another by
+gateways at the end. That's the distinguishing feature of Mogador, and
+you will find some of them pretty dirty, though it's more dust than mud
+this time of year."</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie was enchanted by everything she saw. She only wished Mr. Stuart
+would take himself off, for she saw no chance of slipping away
+unobserved if he were at her side. Luckily for her, a young man came
+hurriedly to meet them from somewhere in the opposite direction, and,
+greeting Mr. Stuart with great effusion, carried him off forthwith,
+whilst Marjorie hurried along after the rest of the party.</p>
+
+<p>But they had no intention of exploring the wonderful old town that day.
+They turned into a little side street, where there was nothing
+particular to see, but where, outside the agent's office, a number of
+donkeys were waiting. Marjorie caught hold of Miss Craven, her cabin
+companion, and said hastily:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going this ride; I don't care for being jolted on a donkey,
+with only a pack of straw for a saddle and a rope for a bridle. I must
+get some sketches done. The Colquhouns are going to sketch. I can find
+them if I want. Don't let anybody bother about me. I'll join you in time
+to go back to the boat at five."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, take care of yourself," said Miss Craven, "and don't wander about
+alone, for it's a most heathenish-looking place. But you will be all
+right with the Colquhouns."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," answered Marjorie, turning away with a burning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> face. She
+felt rather guilty, as though she had gone near to speaking an untruth,
+although no actual falsehood had passed her lips. Nobody heeded her as
+she slipped through the crowd of donkey boys and onlookers. Some offered
+her their beasts, but she smiled and shook her head, and hurried back to
+the main route through the larger arcades. Once there, she went
+leisurely, eagerly looking into shop doors, watching the brass-beating,
+the hand-loom weaving, and dashing off little pencil sketches of the
+children squatting at their tasks, or walking to or fro as they
+performed some winding operations for an older person seated upon the
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody molested her in any way or seemed to notice her much. Sometimes a
+shopkeeper would offer her his wares in dumb show; but Marjorie had very
+little money with her, and, knowing nothing of the value of these
+things, was not to be tempted.</p>
+
+<p>The sun poured down hot and strong, but there was shade to be had in
+these arcaded streets; and though some of them were anything but clean
+or sweet, Marjorie forgave everything for the sake of the beauty and
+picturesqueness of the scene. She wandered here, there, and all over;
+she found herself in the long, straggling market, and made hasty
+sketches of the men and women chaffering at their stalls; of camels,
+with their strange, sleepy, or vicious faces, padding softly along,
+turning their heads this way and that. She watched the lading of the
+beasts, and heard their curious grunts of anger or remonstrance when the
+load exceeded their approval. Everything was full of attraction for her,
+and she only waited till she had explored the place to set herself down
+and make some coloured sketches.</p>
+
+<p>She soon had a following of small boys and loiterers, all interested in
+the doings of the strange lady with her sketchbook, but Marjorie did not
+mind that. She made some of the children stand to her, and got several
+rather effective groups.</p>
+
+<p>Then she set herself to work in greater earnest. She obtained a seat in
+one or two places, and dashed in rapid coloured studies which she could
+work upon afterwards. Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> <i>forte</i> was for bold effects rather than for
+detail, and the strange old city gave her endless subjects. She did not
+heed the flight of time. She passed from spot to spot, with her
+following growing larger and larger, more and more curious: and so
+engrossed was she in her task, that the lengthening of the shadows and
+the dipping of the sun behind the walls did not attract her attention.
+It was only when she suddenly found herself enveloped in the
+quick-coming, semi-tropical shades of darkness that she realised the
+necessity to beat a retreat.</p>
+
+<p>She rose quickly and put up her things. There was a ring many deep about
+her of curious natives, Arabs, Moors, Jews, Turks&mdash;she knew not how many
+nationalities were gathered together in that circle. In the broad light
+of day she had felt no qualm of uneasiness at the strange dusky faces.
+Nobody had molested her, and Marjorie, partly through temperament,
+partly through ignorance, had been perfectly fearless in this strange
+old city. But with the dimness of evening gathering, she began to wish
+herself safe on board the <i>Oratava</i> again; and though she retained her
+air of serene composure, she felt a little inward tremor as she moved
+away.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd did not attempt to hold her back, but walked with her in a
+sort of compact bodyguard; and amongst themselves there was a great deal
+of talking and gesticulating, which sounded very heathenish and a little
+threatening to Marjorie.</p>
+
+<p>She had realised before that Mogador was a larger place than she had
+thought, and now she began to discover that she had no notion of the
+right way to the quay. The arcades hemmed her in. She could see nothing
+but walls about her and the ever-increasing crowd dogging her steps. Her
+heart was beating thick and fast. She was tired and faint from want of
+food, and this sudden and unfamiliar sense of fear robbed her of her
+customary self-command and courage. She felt more like bursting into
+tears than she ever remembered to have done before.</p>
+
+<p>It was no good going on like this, wandering helplessly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> about in the
+darkening town; she must do something and that quickly. Surely some of
+these people knew a few words of English.</p>
+
+<p>She stopped and faced them, and asked if nobody could take her to the
+ship. Instantly they crowded round her, pointing and gesticulating; but
+whether they understood, and what they meant, Marjorie could not
+imagine. She remembered the name of the ship's agents, and spoke that
+aloud several times, and there were more cries and more crowding and
+gesticulation. Each man seemed struggling to get possession of her, and
+Marjorie grew so frightened at the strange sounds, and the fierce
+faces&mdash;as they seemed to her&mdash;and the gathering darkness, that she
+completely lost her head. She looked wildly round her, gave a little
+shrill cry of terror, and seeing the ring thinner in one place than
+another, she made a dart through it, and began to run as if for her very
+life. It was the maddest thing to do. Hitherto there had been no real
+danger. Nobody had any thought of molesting the English lady, though her
+behaviour had excited much curiosity. Anybody would have taken her down
+to the quay, as they all knew where she came from. But this head-long
+flight first startled them, and then roused that latent demon of
+savagery which lies dormant in every son of the desert. Instantly, with
+yells which sounded terrific in Marjorie's ears, they gave chase. Fear
+lent her wings, but she heard the pursuit coming nearer and nearer. She
+knew not where she was flying, whether towards safety or into the heart
+of danger. Her breath came in sobbing gasps, her feet slipped and seemed
+as though they would carry her no farther. The cries behind and on all
+sides grew louder and fiercer. She was making blindly for the entrance
+to the arcade. Each moment she expected to feel a hand grasping her from
+the rear. There was no getting away from her pursuers in these terrible
+arcades. Oh, why had she ever trusted herself alone in this awful old
+city!</p>
+
+<p>She darted through the archway, and then, uttering a faint cry, gave
+herself up for lost, for she felt herself grasped tightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> in a pair of
+powerful arms, and all the terrible stories she had heard from
+fellow-passengers about Europeans taken captive in Morocco, and put up
+for ransom recurred to her excited fancy. She had nobody to ransom her.
+She would be left to languish and die in some awful Moorish prison.
+Perhaps nobody would ever know of her fate. That was what came of always
+doing as one chose, and making one's friends believe a falsehood.</p>
+
+<p>Like a lightning flash all this passed through Marjorie's mind. The next
+instant she felt herself thrust against the wall. Some tall, dark figure
+was standing in front of her, and a masterful English voice speaking
+fluent Arabic was haranguing her pursuers in stern and menacing accents.</p>
+
+<p>A sob of wonder and relief escaped Marjorie's white lips. She had not
+fallen into the hands of the Moors. Mr. Stuart had caught her, was
+protecting her, and when the mists cleared away from her eyes she saw
+that the crowd was quickly melting away, and she knew that she was safe.</p>
+
+<p>"Take my arm, Miss May," said Mr. Stuart; "they have sent back a boat
+for you from the ship. Captain Taylor is making inquiries for you too.
+Had you not been warned that a lady was not safe alone in Mogador&mdash;at
+least, not after nightfall?"</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie hung her head; tears were dropping silently. She felt more
+humiliated than she had ever done in her life before. Suppose Mr. Stuart
+had not come? It was a thought she could not bear to pursue.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the boat. The captain listened to the story, and he spoke
+with some grave severity to Marjorie, as he had a right to do; for he
+had done everything to provide for the safety of his passengers, and it
+was not right to him, or the company, for a wilful girl to run into
+needless peril out of the waywardness of her heart.</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie accepted the reproof with unwonted humility, and Mr. Stuart
+suddenly spoke up for her:</p>
+
+<p>"She will not do it again, captain; I will answer for her."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>"All right, Mr. Stuart; I don't want to say any more. All's well that's
+ends well; but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He checked further words, but Marjorie's cheeks whitened. She seemed to
+see again those strange, fierce faces, and hear the cries of her
+pursuers. In the gathering darkness Mr. Stuart put out his hand and took
+firm hold of hers. She started for a moment, and then let it lie in his
+clasp. Indeed, she felt her own fingers clinging to that strong hand,
+and a thrill went through her as she felt his clasp tighten upon them.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the side of the vessel; officers and passengers were
+craning over to get news of the missing passenger.</p>
+
+<p>"Here she is, all safe!" cried the captain rather gruffly, and a little
+cry of relief went up, followed by a cheer.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stuart leant forward in the darkness and whispered:</p>
+
+<p>"You see what a commotion you have made, Marjorie, I think you will have
+to let me answer for you, and take care of you in the future."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I shall," she answered, with a little tremulous laugh that was
+half a sob, and in the confusion of getting the boat brought up
+alongside Marjorie felt a lover's kiss upon her cheek.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="FOURTH_COUSINS" id="FOURTH_COUSINS"></a>FOURTH COUSINS.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY GORDON STABLES, M.D., R.N.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the early summer of 1860 I went upon a visit to a distant relative of
+mine, who lived in one of the Shetland Islands. It was early summer with
+myself then: I was a medical student with life all before me&mdash;life and
+hope, and joy and sorrow as well. I went north with the intention of
+working hard, and took quite a small library with me; there was nothing
+in the shape of study I did not mean to do, and to drive at: botany, the
+<i>flora</i> of the <i>Ultima Thule</i>, its <i>fauna</i> and geology, too, to say
+nothing of chemistry and therapeutics. So much for good intentions,
+but&mdash;I may as well confess it as not&mdash;I never once opened my huge box of
+books during the five months I lived at R&mdash;&mdash;, and if I studied at all
+it was from the book of Nature, which is open to every one who cares to
+con its pages.</p>
+
+<p>The steamboat landed me at Lerwick, and I completed my journey&mdash;with my
+boxes&mdash;next day in an open boat.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very cold morning, with a grey, cold, choppy sea on, the spray
+from which dashed over the boat, wetting me thoroughly, and making me
+feel pinched, blear-eyed, and miserable. I even envied the seals I saw
+cosily asleep in dry, sandy caves, at the foot of the black and beetling
+rocks.</p>
+
+<p>How very fantastic those rocks were, but cheerless&mdash;so cheerless! Even
+the sea birds that circled around them seemed screaming a dirge. An
+opening in a wall of rock took us at length into a long, winding fiord,
+or arm of the sea, with green bare fields on every side, and wild,
+weird-like sheep that gazed on us for a moment, then bleated and fled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>
+Right at the end of this rock stood my friend's house, comfortable and
+solid-looking, but unsheltered by a single tree.</p>
+
+<p>"I sha'n't stay long here," I said to myself, as I landed.</p>
+
+<p>An hour or two afterwards I had changed my mind entirely. I was seated
+in a charmingly and cosily-furnished drawing-room upstairs. The windows
+looked out to and away across the broad Atlantic. How strange it was;
+for the loch that had led me to the front of the house, and the waters
+of which rippled up to the very lawn, was part of the German Ocean, and
+here at the back, and not a stone's throw distant, was the Atlantic! Its
+great, green, dark billows rolled up and broke into foam against the
+black breastwork of cliffs beneath us; the immense depth of its waves
+could be judged of by keeping the eye fixed upon the tall, steeple-like
+rocks which shot up here and there through the water a little way out to
+sea: at one moment these would appear like lofty spires, and next they
+would be almost entirely swallowed up.</p>
+
+<p>Beside the fire, in an easy chair, sat my grey-haired old relation and
+host, and, not far off, his wife. Hospitable, warm-hearted, and genial
+both of them were. If marriages really are made in heaven, I could not
+help thinking theirs must have been, so much did they seem each other's
+counterpart.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Cousin Maggie entered, smiling to me as she did so; her left
+hand lingered fondly for a moment on her father's grey locks, then she
+sat down unbidden to the piano. My own face was partially shaded by the
+window curtain, so that I could study that of my fair cousin as she
+played without appearing rude. Was she beautiful? that was the question
+I asked myself, and was trying hard to answer. Every feature of her face
+was faultless, her mouth and ears were small, she had a wealth of rich,
+deep auburn hair, and eyes that seemed to have borrowed the noonday
+tints of a summer sea, so bright, so blue were they. But was she
+beautiful? I could not answer the question then.</p>
+
+<p>On the strength of my blood relationship, distant though it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> was, for we
+were really only third or fourth cousins, I was made a member of this
+family from the first, and Maggie treated me as a brother. I was not
+entirely pleased with the latter arrangement, because many days had not
+passed ere I concluded it would be a pleasant pastime for me to make
+love to Cousin Maggie. But weeks went by, and my love-making was still
+postponed; it became a <i>sine die</i> kind of a probability. Maggie was
+constantly with me when out of doors&mdash;my companion in all my fishing and
+shooting trips. But she carried not only a rod but even a rifle herself,
+she could give me lessons in casting the fly&mdash;and did; she often shot
+dead the seals that I had merely wounded, and her prowess in rowing
+astonished me, and her daring in venturing so far to sea in our broad,
+open boat often made me tremble for our safety.</p>
+
+<p>A frequent visitor for the first two months of my stay at R&mdash;&mdash; was a
+young and well-to-do farmer and fisher, who came in his boat from a
+neighbouring island, always accompanied by his sister, and they usually
+stayed a day or two. I was not long in perceiving that this Mr.
+Thorforth was very fond of my cousin; the state of her feelings towards
+him it was some time before I could fathom, but the revelation came at
+last, and quite unexpectedly.</p>
+
+<p>There was an old ruin some distance from the house, where, one lovely
+moonlight night, I happened to be seated alone. I was not long alone,
+however; from a window I could see my cousin and Thorforth coming
+towards the place, and, thinking to surprise them, I drew back under the
+shadow of a portion of the wall. But I was not to be an actor in that
+scene, though it was one I shall never forget. I could not see <i>his</i>
+face, but hers, on which the moonbeams fell, was pained,
+half-frightened, impatient. He was telling her he loved her and asking
+her to love him in return. She stopped him at last.</p>
+
+<p>What she said need not be told. In a few moments he was gone, and she
+was standing where he left her, following him with pitying eyes as he
+walked hurriedly away.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>Next day Magnus Thorforth said goodbye and left: even his sister looked
+sad. She must have known it all. I never saw them again.</p>
+
+<p>One day, about a month after this, Maggie and I were together in a cave
+close by the ocean&mdash;a favourite haunt of ours on hot forenoons. Our boat
+was drawn up close by, the day was bright, and the sea calm, its tiny
+wavelets making drowsy, dreamy music on the yellow sands.</p>
+
+<p>She had been reading aloud, and I was gazing at her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I begin to think you are beautiful," I said.</p>
+
+<p>She looked down at me where I lay with those innocent eyes of hers, that
+always looked into mine as frankly as a child's would.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not sure," I continued, "that I sha'n't commence making love to
+you, and perhaps I might marry you. What would you think of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Love!" she laughed, as musically as a sea-nymph&mdash;"love? Love betwixt a
+cousin and a cousin? Preposterous!"</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay," I said, pretending to pout, "you wouldn't marry me because
+I'm poor."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor!" she repeated, looking very firm and earnest now; "if the man I
+loved were poor, I'd carry a creel for him&mdash;I'd gather shells for his
+sake; but I don't love anybody and don't mean to. Come."</p>
+
+<p>So that was the beginning and end of my love-making for Cousin Maggie.</p>
+
+<p>And Maggie had said she never meant to love any one. Well, we never can
+tell what may be in our immediate future.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly had we left the cave that day, and put off from the shore, ere
+cat's-paws began to ruffle the water. They came in from the west, and
+before we had got half-way to the distant headland a steady breeze was
+blowing. We had hoisted our sail, and were running before it with the
+speed of a gull on the wing.</p>
+
+<p>Once round the point, we had a beam wind till we entered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> the fiord,
+then we had to beat to windward all the way home, by which time it was
+blowing quite a gale.</p>
+
+<p>It went round more to the north about sunset, and then, for the first
+time, we noticed a yacht of small dimensions on the distant horizon. Her
+intention appeared to be that of rounding the island, and probably
+anchoring on the lee side of it. She was in an ugly position, however,
+and we all watched her anxiously till nightfall hid her from our view.</p>
+
+<p>I retired early, but sleep was out of the question, for the wind raged
+and howled around the house like wild wolves. About twelve o'clock the
+sound of a gun fell on my ears. I could not be mistaken, for the window
+rattled in sharp response.</p>
+
+<p>I sprang from my couch and began to dress, and immediately after my aged
+relative entered the room. He looked younger and taller than I had seen
+him, but very serious.</p>
+
+<p>"The yacht is on the Ba,"<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> he said, solemnly.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Ba</i> means a sunken rock.</p></div>
+
+<p>They were words to me of fearful significance. The yacht, I knew, must
+soon break up, and nothing could save the crew.</p>
+
+<p>I quickly followed my relative into the back drawing-room, where Maggie
+was with her mother. We gazed out into the night, out and across the
+sea. At the same moment, out there on the terrible Ba, a blue light
+sprang up, revealing the yacht and even its people on board. She was
+leaning well over to one side, her masts gone, and the spray dashing
+over her.</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" cried Maggie, "there is no time to lose. We can guide their boat
+to the cave. Come, cousin!"</p>
+
+<p>I felt dazed, thunderstruck. Was I to take active part in a forlorn
+hope? Was Maggie&mdash;how beautiful and daring she looked now!&mdash;to assume
+the <i>r&ocirc;le</i> of a modern Grace Darling? So it appeared.</p>
+
+<p>The events of that night come back to my memory now as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> if they had
+happened but yesterday. It is a page in my past life that can never be
+obliterated.</p>
+
+<p>We pulled out of the fiord, Maggie and I, and up under lee of the
+island; then, on rounding the point, we encountered the whole force of
+the sea and wind. There was a glimmering light on the wrecked yacht, and
+for that we rowed, or rather were borne along on the gale. No boat, save
+a Shetland skiff, could have been trusted in such a sea.</p>
+
+<p>As we neared the Ba, steadying herself by leaning on my shoulder, Maggie
+stood half up and waved the lantern, and it was answered from the wreck.
+Next moment it seemed to me we were on the lee side, and Maggie herself
+hailed the shipwrecked people.</p>
+
+<p>"We cannot come nearer!" she cried; "lower your boat and follow our
+light closely."</p>
+
+<p>"Take the tiller now," she continued, addressing me, "and steer for the
+light you see on the cliff. Keep her well up, though, or all will be
+lost."</p>
+
+<p>We waited&mdash;and that with difficulty&mdash;for a few minutes, till we saw by
+the starlight that the yacht's boat was lowered, then away we went.</p>
+
+<p>The light on the cliff-top moved slowly down the wind. I kept the boat's
+head a point or two above it, and on she dashed. The rocks loomed black
+and high as we neared them, the waves breaking in terrible turmoil
+beneath.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the light was lowered over the cliff down to the very water's
+edge.</p>
+
+<p>"Steady, now!" cried my brave cousin, and next moment we were round a
+point and into smooth water, with the yacht's boat close beside us. The
+place was partly cave, partly "<i>noss</i>." We beached our boats, and here
+we remained all night, and were all rescued next morning by a
+fisherman's yawl.</p>
+
+<p>The yacht's people were the captain, his wife, and one boy&mdash;the whole
+crew Norwegians, Brinster by name.</p>
+
+<p>My story is nearly done. What need to tell of the gratitude of those
+Maggie's heroism had saved from a watery grave!</p>
+
+<p>But it came to pass that when, a few months afterwards, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> beautiful new
+yacht came round to the fiord to take those shipwrecked mariners away,
+Cousin Maggie went with them on a visit.</p>
+
+<p>It came to pass also that when I paid my very next visit to R&mdash;&mdash; in the
+following summer, I found living at my relative's house a Major Brinster
+and a Mrs. Brinster.</p>
+
+<p>And Mrs. Brinster was my Cousin Maggie, and Major Brinster was my Cousin
+Maggie's fate.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_PEDLARS_PACK" id="THE_PEDLARS_PACK"></a>THE PEDLAR'S PACK.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Colonel Bingham was seated in his library facing the window that looked
+out on to the green sloping lawn, the smiling meadow, and the dark belt
+of firs which skirted the wood. There was a frown on his brow, and his
+eyes wore a perplexed look. On the opposite side of the room stood a
+young girl of seventeen balancing herself adroitly on the ridge of a
+chair, and smiling with evident satisfaction at her own achievement.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel was speaking irritably.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, you can't even now sit still while I speak to you, but you
+must poise yourself on your chair like a schoolboy. Is it a necessary
+part of your existence that you must behave like a boy rather than a
+girl?"</p>
+
+<p>Patty hung her head shamefacedly, and the smile left her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"And then, what is this that I hear about a rifle? Is it true that
+Captain Palmer has lent you one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only just to practise with for a few weeks. Dad, don't be angry. He has
+a new one, so he doesn't miss it. Why"&mdash;warming to her subject and
+forgetting for the moment that she was in great danger of still further
+disgracing herself in her father's eyes by her confession&mdash;"I can hit
+even a small object at a very considerable distance five times out of
+six."</p>
+
+<p>The perplexed look deepened in her father's eyes, but the irritability
+had cleared away. He toyed with the open letter that he held in his
+hand. "I suppose it is for this as well as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> for your other schoolboy
+pranks that your aunt has invited only Rose. But I don't like it&mdash;it is
+not right. If it were not for the unfairness to Rose, I should have
+refused outright. As it is, the invitation has been accepted by me, and
+it must stand, for Rose must not be deprived of her pleasures because
+you like&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Invitation! What invitation?" interrupted Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"Your aunt is giving a big ball on the 13th, and she is insistent that
+Rose should be present. It will be the child's first ball, and I cannot
+gainsay her. But, Patty, I should like you both to go. You are
+seventeen, are you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Seventeen and a half," returned Patty with a little choke in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first she had heard of the invitation, and it stung her to
+think that Lady Glendower thought her too much of a hoyden to invite her
+with the sister who was but one year older. Patty was girl enough to
+love dancing even above her other amusements, and the unbidden tears
+came into her eyes as she stood looking forlornly at her father.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Bingham coughed, and tapped his writing-desk with the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"Seventeen and a half," he repeated, "quite old enough to go to a ball.
+Never mind, Patty, I've a good mind to give a ball myself and leave out
+her younger daughter, only that it would be too much like <i>tu quoque</i>,
+and your aunt has a reason for not extending her invitation here which I
+should not have in relation to your cousin Fanny, eh, Patty?"</p>
+
+<p>But Patty's eyes were still humid, and she could only gaze dumbly at her
+father with such a pathetic look on her pretty face that Colonel Bingham
+could not stand it.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, child," he said, "why aren't you more like your sister Rose?
+Then her pleasures would be always yours&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Who's talking about me?" asked a gay voice, and into the room walked
+Patty's sister Rose.</p>
+
+<p>"I am. I have been telling Patty about the invitation."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Patty!" said Rose, and she put her arm sympatheti<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>cally round
+Patty's neck. "Aunt Glendower is most unkind, I think."</p>
+
+<p>"It can't be helped," murmured Patty, choking back the rising sob. "If I
+had been born a sweet maiden who did nothing but stitch at fancy-work
+all day long perhaps she would have invited me, but I can't give up my
+cricket, my riding my horse bare-backed, my shooting, just for the sake
+of a ball or two that Aunt Glendower feels inclined to give once a year.
+Much as I love dancing, I can't give up all these pleasures for an
+occasional dance."</p>
+
+<p>"Rose has pleasures too," said her father quietly, "but they are of the
+womanly kind&mdash;music, painting, reading, tending flowers."</p>
+
+<p>Rose laughed gaily as Patty turned up her pretty nose scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Let Patty alone, dad. You know very well that you would grow tired of
+too much sameness if Patty showed the same tastes that I have."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Bingham glanced fondly at her and then at Patty, whose face, in
+spite of her brave words, was still very tearful-looking. He knew that
+in his heart he loved his two daughters equally&mdash;his "two motherless
+girls," as he was wont to call them&mdash;and although he belonged to the old
+school of those who abhor masculine pursuits for women, yet he felt that
+Rose's words were true, and for that very dissimilarity did he love
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"Heigho," said Patty, jumping off her chair, "I am not going to grieve
+any more. Let's talk of Rose's dress, and when she is going."</p>
+
+<p>"We both start to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow? And do you go too, dad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Patty. I have business in town with my lawyer, which I have been
+putting off from day to day, but now I feel I shall take the opportunity
+of transacting it with him on the occasion of taking Rose up with me.
+Besides, I can't let her go to her first ball without being there to see
+how she looks."</p>
+
+<p>"And what about the dress?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>"Aunt says she will see to that, so we have to start a few days before
+the ball takes place for C&eacute;line to get a dress ready for me," said Rose,
+looking tenderly at Patty as she spoke, for the two girls loved each
+other, and it hurt her to think that Patty must be left behind.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't be nervous, child?" asked her father.</p>
+
+<p>"Nervous, father! dear me, no, a tomboy nervous? Why, I have Mrs.
+Tucker, cook, and Fanny to bear me company, and if you take the groom we
+shall still have the stable boy," returned Patty triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you sent away that new coachman, dad," said Rose earnestly.
+"I never liked his face, it always looked so sly and sneaking."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am glad too, and we must endeavour to find one when we are in
+town, and perhaps bring him back with us, Rose&mdash;the place is a lonely
+one without a man when I am away." He spoke the last words to himself,
+but the girls heard him and laughed. They knew no fear. Why should they?
+Nothing had ever come near to harm them during the short years of their
+existence in their country home.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Bingham had of late questioned the wisdom of continuing to live
+with his daughters in his beautiful, isolated house. It was three miles
+from the nearest village, post-office, and church, and there was not
+another habitation within that distance; it was five miles from the
+nearest market town. But his heart clung to it. Hadn't he and his bride,
+twenty years before, chosen this beautiful spot of all others to build
+their house upon and make it their home? Had not his wife loved every
+nook and cranny, every stick and stone of the home they had beautified
+within and without? And therein lay the colonel's two chief objections
+to leaving the place&mdash;it was beautiful&mdash;and&mdash;his wife had loved it.</p>
+
+<p>So did his daughters too, for that matter; but they were growing up, and
+newer scenes and livelier surroundings were now needed for them. The
+colonel often caught himself pondering over the matter, and one of the
+reasons for his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> wishing to visit his sister was that of laying the
+matter open before her, and hearing her opinion from her own lips.</p>
+
+<p>At an early hour the next morning Colonel Bingham, Rose, and the groom,
+with two of the horses, had left the house.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing to alarm Patty. The beautiful home with its peaceful
+surroundings was perfectly quiet for the two days that followed, and if
+Patty, in spite of her brave heart, had felt any qualms of fear, they
+had vanished on the morning of the third day, which dawned so
+brilliantly bright that she was eager to take her rifle and begin
+practising at the target she herself had set up at the end of the short
+wood to the left of the house.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, the housekeeper had set both maids to work in turning out
+several unused rooms, and a great amount of brisk work was going on. The
+trim housemaid, Fanny, who was the housekeeper's niece, had come down
+the back stairs with an armful of carpets, and had brushed into the
+flagged yard before she noticed a pedlar-like-looking man standing
+before the back door with a pack upon his back.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you do here?" she called out sharply.</p>
+
+<p>The man appeared weighted down with his bundle, which looked to Fanny's
+eyes a good deal bigger than most of the pedlars' packs that she had
+seen.</p>
+
+<p>"I am on my way through the country-side selling what maids most love&mdash;a
+bit of ribbon, a tie, a good serviceable apron, a feather for the hat,
+and many a pretty gown; but on my way from the village I met a friend
+from my own part of the country, which is not in this county, but two
+counties up north, who tells me that my wife is lying dangerously ill.
+If I wish to see her alive I must needs travel fast, and a man can
+scarce do that with as heavy a pack on his back as I bear. What I
+venture to ask most respectfully is that I may place my pack in one
+corner of this house, and I will return to fetch it as soon as ever I
+can."</p>
+
+<p>He gave a furtive dab to his eyes with the corner of a blue-checked
+handkerchief he held in one hand, and hoisted his bundle up higher with
+apparent difficulty.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>Fanny looked gravely at him "Why didn't you leave your pack at the
+village inn?" was all she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I would have done so had I met my friend before leaving the village,
+but I met him just at the entrance to the wood, and it seemed hopeless
+to trudge all that way back with not only a heavy burden to bear, but a
+still heavier heart."</p>
+
+<p>He sighed miserably as he spoke, and Fanny's soft heart was touched.</p>
+
+<p>The man spoke well&mdash;better than many pedlars that Fanny had met with,
+and his tone was respectful, albeit very pleading. Fanny's heart was
+growing softer and softer. He looked faint and weary himself, she
+thought, and oh! so very sad&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Fanny, Fanny, what are you about? Ain't those carpets finished yet?"
+The housekeeper's voice sounded sharply at the top of the back
+staircase.</p>
+
+<p>The pedlar looked scared. Fanny beckoned him with one finger to follow
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Coming, aunt," she called back. And, still silently beckoning, she
+conducted the pedlar into the small breakfast-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Put it down in this corner," she said, "and come for it as soon as you
+can."</p>
+
+<p>"May I beg that it will remain untouched," said the pedlar humbly. "It
+contains many valuables&mdash;at least to me&mdash;for it comprises nearly all
+that I possess in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"No one will touch it in here, for this room is never used."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot thank you enough for your compassion&mdash;&mdash;" began the pedlar,
+when the sharp voice was heard again.</p>
+
+<p>"Fanny, cook's waitin' for you to help her move some things. Are you
+comin' or not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Coming now," was Fanny's answer, and, shutting the breakfast-room door,
+she hustled the pedlar out into the flagged yard without ceremony.</p>
+
+<p>With a deferential lifting of his cap the pedlar again murmured his
+grateful thanks, and made his way out the way he had come in. Fanny
+waited to lock the yard gate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> after him, murmuring to herself: "That
+gate didn't ought to have been left open&mdash;it's just like that lazy boy
+Sam to think that now Britton's gone off with the horses he can do as he
+likes."</p>
+
+<p>It was not until the furniture in the room had been moved about to her
+satisfaction that the housekeeper demanded to know the reason for
+Fanny's delay downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't cook's business to be waitin' about for you," she said
+sharply, "she's got her other duties to perform. What kept you?"</p>
+
+<p>Then Fanny told what had caused the delay, and was aghast at the effect
+it produced upon her aunt.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't have had it happen just now for all my year's wages," the
+housekeeper exclaimed hotly. "What do we know about the man and his
+pack?"</p>
+
+<p>"He looked so white and quiet-like, and so sad," pleaded her niece half
+tearfully.</p>
+
+<p>"That's nothin' to us. I promised the master before he went away that I
+wouldn't let a strange foot pass over the doorway while he was away. And
+here you&mdash;a mere chit of a housemaid&mdash;go, without sayin', 'With your
+leave,' or, 'By your leave,' and let a dirty pedlar with his pack
+straight into the breakfast-room. He's sure to have scented the silver
+lyin' on the sideboard for cleanin' this afternoon. If I didn't think
+he'd gone a long way from here by this I would send you after him to
+tell him to take it away again."</p>
+
+<p>Having delivered herself of this long, explosive speech, the housekeeper
+proceeded in the direction of the breakfast-room to review the pack, and
+Fanny and the cook followed in her wake.</p>
+
+<p>"As I thought," she ejaculated, eyeing the pack from the doorway, "a
+dirty pedlar's smellin' pack." But the tone of her voice was mollified,
+for the pack looked innocent enough, although it was somewhat bulky and
+unwieldy in appearance.</p>
+
+<p>Her niece took heart of grace from her tone, and murmured
+apologetically:</p>
+
+<p>"He's got the loveliest things in that bundle that ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> you'd see,
+aunt. Feathers, ribbons, dresses, aprons, and he'll unpack them all when
+he comes back to let us see them."</p>
+
+<p>"A pack o' tawdry rubbish, I have no doubt," was her aunt's reply; "only
+fit for flighty young girls, not for gentlemen's servants."</p>
+
+<p>Thus silenced, Fanny said no more, and the three women betook themselves
+to their different occupations.</p>
+
+<p>After half an hour's work her girlish glee was still unabated, and on
+passing the door of the breakfast-room mere curious elation impelled her
+to open it softly and to look in. A perplexed look stole into her eyes
+as they rested on the black object in the corner. It was there sure
+enough, safe and sound, but had it not been shifted from the corner in
+which the pedlar had placed it, and in which her aunt had seen it in
+company with herself and the cook? No, that was impossible. She had only
+fancied that it was right in the corner, and Fanny softly shut the door
+again without making a sound, and went on with her daily duties.</p>
+
+<p>This time her aunt employed her, and she was not free again till another
+two hours had passed. It was now close on the luncheon hour, and Fanny
+thought she would just take one little peep before setting the
+luncheon-table for the young mistress who would come home as usual as
+hungry as a hunter.</p>
+
+<p>Gently she turned the handle, and stood upon the threshold. Her eyes
+grew fixed and staring, her cheek blanched to a chalky white. Without
+all doubt&mdash;<i>the pack had moved</i>!</p>
+
+<p>Fanny stood rooted to the spot. Wild, strange ideas flitted through her
+brain. There was something uncanny in this pack. Was it bewitched? She
+dared not call her aunt or the cook: she was in disgrace with both, and
+no wonder, the poor girl thought miserably, for the very sight now of
+that uncouth-looking object in the corner was beginning to assume
+hideous proportions in the girl's mind. She must watch and wait, and
+wait and watch for every sign that the pack made, but oh! the agony of
+bearing that uncanny secret alone! Oh for some one to share it with
+her!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>A figure darkened the window of the breakfast-room, and Fanny caught
+sight of her young mistress's form as it passed with the rifle over her
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>With a soft step she left the room, and intercepted her on the other
+side of the verandah. "Miss Patty," she whispered miserably.</p>
+
+<p>Patty turned, her pretty face lighting up with a good-humoured smile as
+she nodded and said, "Luncheon ready, Fanny? I am simply ravenous."</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-es, I think so, miss. But oh! miss, I want to speak to you badly."</p>
+
+<p>Fatty came forward with the smile still on her lips. "Has Mrs. Tucker
+been scolding you dreadfully, you poor Fanny?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then she's told you?" gasped the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"She's told me nothing. I haven't seen her, but you look so woebegone
+that I thought she had been having a pitch battle with you for
+neglecting something or other, and you wanted me to get you out of the
+scrape."</p>
+
+<p>Fanny groaned inwardly. No, her aunt had said nothing, and she must
+brace herself up, and tell the whole story from beginning to end. The
+beginning, she began to think, was not so dreadful as the end. Oh that
+she could dare to disbelieve her eyes, and declare that there was no
+end&mdash;no awful, uncanny end!</p>
+
+<p>At length, in the quiet of the verandah, the story was told, and Fanny's
+heart misgave her more and more as she observed the exceeding gravity of
+her young mistress's bright face as the story neared its finish. When
+the finish did come, Patty's face was more than grave; the weight of
+responsibility was on her, and to young, unused shoulders that weight is
+particularly difficult to bear.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and show me where it is," was the only remark she made, but Fanny
+noticed that the red lips had lost some of their bright colour, and the
+pink in the soft cheeks was of a fainter tinge than when she had first
+seen her.</p>
+
+<p>Without making the slightest sound, without one click of the handle,
+Fanny opened the door, and Patty looked in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> Her courage came back with
+a bound. Fanny was a goose, there was nothing to be alarmed about.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up to smile encouragingly at Fanny, when the smile froze on
+her lips, for Fanny's face was livid. Without a word she beckoned her
+young mistress out of the room, and as softly as before closed the door.
+Then, turning to her, she whispered through her set teeth:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>It has moved again!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>A cold shiver ran down through Patty's spine, but she was no girl to be
+frightened by the superstitious fancies of an ignorant serving maid.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, Fanny!" she said sharply, "you are growing quite crazed over
+that stupid pack. I saw nothing unusual in it, it looked innocent enough
+in all conscience."</p>
+
+<p>"You never saw it move," was the answer, given in such a lifeless tone
+that Patty was chilled again.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what, Fanny. I'll go in after luncheon, and see if it has
+moved from the place I saw it in."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you notice the place well where it stood?" asked Fanny.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Patty, "I'd know if it moved again. Don't tell Mrs.
+Tucker or cook anything about it. You and I will try to checkmate that
+pack if there is anything uncanny in it. Now tell cook I am ready for
+luncheon if she is."</p>
+
+<p>But when the luncheon came on the table Patty had lost all hunger. She
+merely nibbled at trifles till Fanny came to clear away.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to that room," she whispered. "If Mrs. Tucker should want me,
+or perhaps Sam might, for I told him I was going to see how well he had
+cleaned the harness that I found in the loft, then you must come in
+quietly and beckon me out. Don't let any one know I am watching that
+pack."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss," was Fanny's answer, given so hopelessly that Patty put a
+kind hand on her shoulder with the words:</p>
+
+<p>"Cheer up, Fanny. I don't believe it's so bad as you make out. It is my
+belief you have imagined that the pack moved."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>"It isn't my fancy, it isn't," cried the girl, the tears starting to her
+eyes. "If anything dreadful happens, then it is me that has injured the
+master&mdash;the best master that a poor girl could have." And with her apron
+to her eyes Fanny left the room.</p>
+
+<p>She came back a minute later to see Patty examining the priming of her
+rifle. "Miss Patty," she whispered aghast, "you ain't never going to
+shoot at it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to sit in that room all the afternoon," said Patty calmly,
+"and if that pack moves while my eyes are on it I'll fire into that pack
+even if by so doing I riddle every garment in it." And without another
+word Patty stalked out of the room with her rifle on her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>At the door of the breakfast-room she set her teeth hard, and opened the
+door.</p>
+
+<p><i>The pack had moved since she saw it.</i></p>
+
+<p>It was with a face destitute of all colour that Patty seated herself
+upon the table to mount guard over that black object now lying several
+yards away from the corner. Her eyes were glued to the bundle; they grew
+large and glassy, and a film seemed to come over them as she gazed,
+without daring even to wink. How the minutes passed&mdash;if they revolved
+themselves into half hours&mdash;she did not know. No one called her, no one
+approached the door, she sat on with one fixed stare at the pedlar's
+pack.</p>
+
+<p>Was she dreaming? Was it fancy? No, the pack was moving! Slowly, very
+slowly it crept&mdash;it could hardly be called moving, and Patty watched it
+fascinated. Then it stopped, and Patty, creeping nearer, stood over it,
+and watched more closely. Something was breathing inside! Something
+inside that pack was alive! Patty could now clearly see the movement
+that each respiration made. She had made up her mind, and now she took
+her courage in both hands.</p>
+
+<p>She retreated softly to the opposite side of the room, and raising the
+rifle to her shoulder fired.</p>
+
+<p>There was a loud, a deafening report, a shrill scream, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> a stream of
+blood trickled forth from the pack. Fanny was in the room crying
+hysterically, Mrs. Tucker and cook were looking over her shoulder with
+blanched faces.</p>
+
+<p>Patty, with her face not one whit less white than any of the others,
+laid the smoking rifle on the table, and spoke with a tremulousness not
+usual to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Tucker, some vile plot has been hatched to rob this house while
+your master is away. That pack doesn't hold finery as Fanny was at first
+led to believe, but it holds a man, and I have shot him."</p>
+
+<p>With trembling hands and colourless lips Mrs. Tucker, with the help of
+her maids, cut away the oilcloth that bound the pack together, and
+disclosed the face of a short sturdy man, it was the face of the late
+coachman, Timothy Smith! With one voice they cried aloud as they saw it.</p>
+
+<p>"Dead! Is he dead?" cried Patty, shuddering and covering her face with
+her hands. "Oh, Mrs. Tucker, and it is I who have killed him!"</p>
+
+<p>A groan from the prostrate figure reassured the party as to the fatality
+of the adventure, and aroused in them a sense of the necessity of doing
+what they could to relieve the sufferings of their prostrate enemy.</p>
+
+<p>The huddled-up position occupied by the man when in the pack made him,
+of course, a good target, and made it possible for a single shot to do
+much more mischief than it might have done in passing once through any
+single part of his body. It was, of course, a random shot, and entering
+the pack vertically as the man was crouching with his hands upon his
+knees, it passed through his right arm and left hand and lodged in his
+left knee, thus completely disabling him without touching a vital part.</p>
+
+<p>With some difficulty they managed to get the wounded man on to a chair
+bedstead which they brought from the housekeeper's room for the purpose,
+and such "first aid" as Patty was able to render was quickly given.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," said Patty, "the question is, who will ride Black Bess to the
+village and procure help, for we must have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> help for the wounded as well
+as aid against the ruffians who no doubt intend to raid the house
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Sam, miss?" questioned the housekeeper timidly. All her nerve seemed to
+have departed from her since the report of that shot had rung through
+the house, and there was Timothy Smith's face staring up at her. Usually
+a stout-hearted woman, all her courage had deserted her now.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Patty gravely, "I think we shall have to take Sam into our
+confidence, unless I go myself. Perhaps, Mrs. Tucker, I had better go
+myself. Sam is only a boy, and he might be tempted to tell the story to
+everybody he met, and if the thieves themselves get wind of what has
+happened we shall have small chance of ever catching them. Would you be
+afraid if I rode off at once?"</p>
+
+<p>Without any false pride the young girl saw how much depended on her, and
+saw too the blanched faces of the two women as they looked in turn at
+each other at the thought of their sole protector vanishing.</p>
+
+<p>But it was only for a minute. Mrs. Tucker shook off with a courageous
+firmness the last remnant of nervousness that possessed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Go, and the Lord go with you, Miss Patty," she said.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>As she rode along through the quiet country lanes smelling sweet of the
+honeysuckle in the hedge and the wild dog-rose bursting into bloom,
+Patty's thoughts travelled fast and furiously, every whit as fast as
+Black Bess's hasty steps. Should she draw bridle at the village? No. She
+made up her mind quickly at that. In all probability the would-be
+thieves had made the village inn their headquarters for that day and
+night, and the pedlar&mdash;the man she wished most to avoid&mdash;would be the
+very person she would encounter. The village was small. Only one
+policeman patrolled the narrow-street, and that only occasionally, and
+how quickly would the news fly from mouth to mouth that a would-be
+robbery had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> been detected in time to save Colonel Bingham's valuable
+silver!</p>
+
+<p>No, the pedlar would not be allowed to escape in that way if she could
+help it. Every step of the five miles to the town of Frampton would she
+ride, and draw help from there.</p>
+
+<p>As she neared the village she walked her horse at a quiet pace, albeit
+her brain was throbbing, and her nerves all in a quiver to go faster.
+She nodded smilingly to the familiar faces as she met them in the
+street, although she felt very far from smiling, and everywhere she
+seemed to see the face of Timothy Smith. Then her heart gave a bound as
+she saw, leaning against the wicket-gate of the village inn, three
+men&mdash;two with the most villainous faces she had ever seen, and the third
+bore the face of the man that Fanny had described as the pedlar. She was
+not mistaken, then, when she thought they would make this their
+headquarters.</p>
+
+<p>She drew bridle as she neared the inn. Her quick brain saw the necessity
+of it, if but to explain her presence there.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you be so good as to ask the landlady to come out to me?" she
+asked, with a gracious smile&mdash;the smile that the villagers always said
+was "Miss Patty's own."</p>
+
+<p>The pedlar lifted his cap with the same air that Fanny had so accurately
+described, and himself undertook to go upon the mission.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless you, Miss Patty," exclaimed the buxom landlady as she came out,
+curtseying and smiling, followed in a leisurely manner by the pedlar,
+"where be you a-ridin' that Black Bess be so hot and foam-like about the
+mouth?"</p>
+
+<p>Patty stooped forward and patted her horse's neck, fully aware that
+three pairs of ears at the wicket-gate were being strained to catch her
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>"It is too bad of me to ride her so fast, Mrs. Clark. The fact of the
+matter is I ought to be at Miss Price's this moment for tennis and tea,
+but I am late, and have been trying to make up for lost time. However, I
+must not breathe Black Bess too much, must I, or else I shall not be
+allowed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> to ride her again?" and Patty smiled her bewitching smile,
+which always captivated the heart of the landlady of the Roaring Lion.</p>
+
+<p>An order for supplies for the servants' cellar, given in a firm voice,
+justified her appearance in the village and satisfied the eager
+listeners as to the object of her visit, after which, with a nod and a
+smile, Patty rode onwards.</p>
+
+<p>Not till she was out of sight and hearing of the village did she urge
+Black Bess to the top of her bent, and they flew onwards like the wind.</p>
+
+<p>Thud, thud, thud went the horse's hoofs, keeping time to the beating of
+Patty's heart as she recalled again and again the villainous faces
+leaning over the wicket-gate.</p>
+
+<p>Even Black Bess seemed to realise the importance of her mission and it
+was not long before Patty's heart grew lighter as she caught sight not
+very far off of the spire of Trinity Church, and the turreted roof of
+the Town Hall of Frampton. Reaching the town she drew rein at Major
+Price's house, where, with bated breath, her story was received by the
+major and his two grown-up sons. A message was sent to the police
+station, and in a short while two burly sergeants of police presented
+themselves, to whom Patty repeated her tale.</p>
+
+<p>Arrangements were soon made. A surgeon was sent for and engaged to drive
+over with the police.</p>
+
+<p>"They rascals won't break in till darkness falls, miss," said one of the
+men. "But we'll start at once in a trap. Better be too early than too
+late."</p>
+
+<p>The Prices would not hear of Patty riding Black Bess back. They
+themselves would drive her home in the high dog-cart, and Black Bess
+would be left behind to forget her fatigue in Major Price's comfortable
+stables.</p>
+
+<p>Of course they didn't go the way that Patty had come. It would never
+have done to go through the village and meet those same ruffians, who
+would have understood the position in the twinkling of an eye. Instead,
+they took a roundabout way, which, although it took an extra half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> hour,
+brought them through the wood on the other side of Colonel Bingham's
+house.</p>
+
+<p>"It is lonely&mdash;too lonely a place," muttered Major Price, as the two
+conveyances swung round to the front of the house.</p>
+
+<p>"But it's lovely, and we love it," answered Patty softly.</p>
+
+<p>Then the door was opened cautiously by Sam, and behind him were the
+huddled figures of Mrs. Tucker, cook, and Fanny. What a sigh of relief
+ran through the assembly when the burly forms of the two policeman made
+their appearance in the hall! And tears of real thankfulness sprang to
+poor Fanny's eyes, whose red rims told their own tale.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Patty's heart beat painfully as she conducted the six men to the
+breakfast-room where the wounded coachman lay. She stood with averted
+face and eyes as they bent over him, twining and re-twining her fingers
+with nervous terror as she thought that it was her hand that had perhaps
+killed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! this tells something," exclaimed one of the officers in uniform,
+detaching as he spoke a small whistle fastened round the neck of the man
+who lay all unconscious of that official attention. "This was to give
+the alarm when all in the house were asleep. We shall use this when the
+time comes to attract the men here."</p>
+
+<p>Beyond the discovery of the whistle, and a revolver, nothing more of
+importance was found, and all caught themselves wishing for the time for
+action to arrive.</p>
+
+<p>The surgeon dressed the man's wounds and declared him to be in no
+immediate danger, after which they carried him upstairs to a remote
+room, where it would be quite impossible for him to give any warning to
+his confederates, even if he should have the strength.</p>
+
+<p>The hour came at last when poor Patty felt worn out with suspense and
+fearful anxiety; came, when Mrs. Tucker and her two maids were strung up
+to an almost hysterical pitch of excitement; came, when Sam was
+beginning to look absolutely hollow-eyed with watching every movement of
+the police with admiring yet fearful glances.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>It was twelve o'clock. The grandfather's clock on the stairs had struck
+the hour in company with several silvery chimes about the house, making
+music when all else was still as death.</p>
+
+<p>Up to that time the sky had been dark and lowering, causing darkness to
+reign supreme, till the full moon, suddenly emerging from the heavy
+flying clouds, lighted up the house and its surroundings with its
+refulgent beams. Then suddenly throughout the silent night there rang
+forth a low, soft, piercing whistle. Only once it sounded, and then dead
+silence fell again. The wounded man started in his bed, but he could not
+raise his hand, and the whistle was gone.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the women watchers looked at each other with faces weary and
+worn with anxiety and fear.</p>
+
+<p>Then another sound broke the stillness. Another whistle&mdash;an answering
+call to the one that had rung forth before! It had the effect of
+startling every one in the house, for it came from under the very window
+of the room in which they were gathered.</p>
+
+<p>With an upraised finger, cautioning silence, the sergeant stepped to the
+window and raised it softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Hist!" he said in a thrilling whisper, without showing himself, "the
+lib'ry winder."</p>
+
+<p>He softly closed the casement again, having discerned in that brief
+moment the moonlit shadows of three men lying athwart the lawn.</p>
+
+<p>In stockinged feet the five men slid noiselessly into the library where
+the Venetians had been so lowered as to prevent the silvery moonrays
+from penetrating into the room. Placing the three gentlemen in
+convenient places should their assistance be needed, one of the men in
+uniform pushed aside the French window which he had previously
+unfastened to be in readiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Hist! softly there," he growled; "the swag is ours."</p>
+
+<p>With a barely concealed grunt of satisfaction the window was pushed
+farther open, and the forms of three men made their way into the room.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>With lightning-like celerity the arms of the first man were pinioned,
+and when the others turned to fly they found their egress cut off by the
+three Prices, who stood pointing menacing revolvers at them.</p>
+
+<p>"The game's up!" growled the sham pedlar. "Who blabbed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not Timothy Smith," said the elder sergeant lightly, as he adroitly
+fastened the handcuffs on his man.</p>
+
+<p>"What's come of him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's in bed, as all decent people ought to be at this time o'night,"
+and the sergeant laughed at his own wit.</p>
+
+<p>The police carried their men off in triumph in the trap, and the wiry
+little pony, rejoiced to find his head turned homewards, trotted on
+right merrily, requiring neither whip nor word to urge him on to express
+speed, in total ignorance of the vindictive feelings that animated the
+breasts of three at least of the men seated behind him.</p>
+
+<p>Major Price and his two sons remained till the morning, for Patty had
+broken down when all was over, and then a telegram summoned Colonel
+Bingham to return.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not exactly surprised," he said at length, when he had heard the
+story; "something like this was bound to occur one day or other, and I
+cannot be too thankful that nothing has happened to injure my dear brave
+girl, or any of the household. Patty, I have felt so convinced of
+something dreadful happening during one of my unavoidable absences from
+home that I have made arrangements with an old friend of mine in town to
+lease this place to him for three years."</p>
+
+<p>"And when does he come?" asked Patty breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Next month. He is going to make it a fishing- and shooting-box, and
+have bachelor friends to stay with him. So, my dear, we all clear out in
+a month's time."</p>
+
+<p>Patty gave a long-drawn sigh. Her father did not know whether it was one
+of pleasure or regret.</p>
+
+<p>"We can come back if we like after the three years," he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad we are going just now," she whispered back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> "That pedlar's
+eyes haunt me, and they are all desperate men."</p>
+
+<p>These words were sufficient to make Colonel Bingham hurry on his
+arrangements, so that before three weeks were over he and his whole
+household were on their way to their new home.</p>
+
+<p>As they got out of the train Colonel Bingham turned to Patty. "You and I
+will drive to Lady Glendower's, where we shall stay the night."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dad, darling dad, don't take me there. Aunt Glendower won't like a
+hoyden to visit her."</p>
+
+<p>"She will like to welcome a brave girl," answered her father quietly.</p>
+
+<p>But as Patty still shrank away from the thought he added:</p>
+
+<p>"I have told her all that has happened, and she herself wrote asking me
+to bring you, and I promised I would."</p>
+
+<p>Rose met her with soft, clinging kisses, and then Lady Glendower folded
+her in an embrace such as Patty had not thought her capable of giving.</p>
+
+<p>"I am proud of my brave niece," she whispered. "Patty, go upstairs with
+Rose, and get C&eacute;line to measure you for your ball-dress. I am going to
+give another ball next month, and you are to be the heroine."</p>
+
+<p>Under skilful treatment Timothy Smith recovered his usual health, though
+the injury to his hand and knee made him a cripple for the rest of his
+life. The trial was another terrible experience for Patty, and Fanny
+thought she would have died when she saw the prisoners stand forward in
+the dock to receive sentence. "Five years' penal servitude," said the
+judge, and Patty sometimes shudders to think that the five years are
+nearly up.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_UNBIDDEN_GUEST" id="THE_UNBIDDEN_GUEST"></a>THE UNBIDDEN GUEST.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY F. B. FORESTER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"No, sir," the old keeper said reflectively. "I don't know no ghost
+stories; none as you'd care to hear, that is. But I could tell you of
+something that happened in these parts once, and it was as strange a
+thing as any ghost story I ever heard tell on."</p>
+
+<p>I had spent the morning on the moor, grouse shooting, and mid-day had
+brought me for an hour's welcome rest to the lonely cottage, where the
+old superannuated keeper, father to the stalwart velvet-jacketed
+Hercules who had acted as my guide throughout the forenoon, lived from
+year's end to year's end with his son and half-a-dozen dogs for company.
+The level beams of the glowing August sun bathed in a golden glow the
+miles of purple moorland lying round us; air and scenery were good to
+breathe and to look on; and now, as the three of us sat on a turf seat
+outside the cottage door enjoying the soft sleepy inaction of the
+afternoon, a question of mine concerning the folk-lore of the district,
+after which, hardened materialist though I called myself, I was
+conscious of a secret hankering, had drawn the foregoing remark from the
+patriarchal lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's hear it, by all means," said I, lighting my pipe and settling
+myself preparatory to listening. A slight grunt, resembling a stifled
+laugh, came from Ben the keeper.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to mind, sir," he put in, a twinkle in his eye. "Dad
+believes what he's agoing to tell you, every word of it. It's gospel
+truth to him."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, that I do," responded the old man warmly. "And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> why shouldn't I?
+Didn't I see it with my own eyes? And seein's believin', ain't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You arouse my curiosity," I said. "Let us have the story by all means,
+and if it is a personal experience, so much the better."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir," began the old man, evidently gratified by these signs of
+interest, and casting a triumphant glance at his son, "what I've got to
+tell you don't belong to this time of day, of course. When I says I was
+a little chap of six years old or thereabouts, and that I'll be
+eighty-five come Michaelmas, you'll understand that it must have been a
+tidy sight of years ago.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, he was keeper on these moors here, same as his son's been after
+him, and as <i>his</i> son"&mdash;with a glance of fatherly pride at the stalwart
+young fellow beside him&mdash;"is now, and will be for many years to come,
+please God. Him and mother and me, the three of us, lived together in
+just such another cottage as this one, across t'other side of the moor,
+out Farnington way. The railway runs past there now, over the very place
+the cottage stood on, I believe; but no one so much as dreamt o'
+railways, time I talk on. Not a road was near, and all around there was
+nothin' but the moors stretching away for miles, all purple ling and
+heather, with not a living soul nearer than Wharton, and that was a good
+twelve miles away. It was pretty lonely for mother, o' course, during
+the day; but she was a brave woman, and when dad come home at night,
+never a word would she let on to tell him how right down scared she got
+at times and how mortally sick she felt of hearing the sound of her own
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"'Been pretty quiet for you, Polly?' dad would say at night sometimes,
+when the three of us would be sitting round the fire, with the flame
+dancing and shining on the wall and making black shadows in all the
+corners.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ye-es, so, so,' mother would answer, kind of grudging like, and then
+she'd start telling him what she'd been about all day, or something as
+I'd said or done, so as to turn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> his attention, you see, sir. And as a
+woman can gen'rally lead a man off on whatever trail she likes to get
+his nose on dad would never think no more about it; and as for mother
+and me being that lonely, when he and the dogs were all away, why, I
+don't suppose the thought of it ever entered his head. So, what with her
+never complaining, and that, dad grew easier in his mind, and once or
+twice, when he'd be away at the Castle late in the afternoon, he'd even
+stay there overnight.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, one day when dad comes home to get his dinner he tells
+mother as how there's a lot of gentlemen come down from London for the
+shooting, and as he'd got orders to be on hand bright and early next
+morning,&mdash;the meaning of that being that he'd have to spend the night at
+the Castle. Mother didn't say much; 'twasn't her way to carry on when
+she knew a thing couldn't be helped, and dad went on talking.</p>
+
+<p>"'To-morrow's quarter-day, Polly, and you've got our rent all right for
+the agent when he comes. Put this along wi' it, lass, it's Tom Regan's,
+and he's asked me to hand it over for him and save the miles of
+walking.'</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what come to mother, whether something warned her, or
+what, but she give a sort of jump as dad spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh, Jim,' says she, all in a twitter, 'you're never going to leave all
+that money here, and you away, and the child and me all alone. Can't
+you&mdash;can't you leave one of the dogs?'</p>
+
+<p>"Dad stared at her. 'No,' he says, 'I can't, more's the pity. They're
+all wanted to-morrow, and I've sent them on to the Castle. Why, Polly,
+lass, what's come to you? I've never known you take on like this
+before.'</p>
+
+<p>"Then mother, seeing how troubled and uneasy he looked, plucked up heart
+and told him, trying to laugh, never to mind her&mdash;she had only been
+feeling a bit low, and it made her timid like. But dad didn't laugh in
+answer, only said very grave that if he'd ha' known she felt that way,
+he'd have took good care she wasn't ever left alone overnight. This
+should be the last time, he'd see to that, and anyhow he'd take the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>
+rent money with him and wouldn't leave it to trouble her. Then he kissed
+her, and kissed me, and went off, striding away over the moors towards
+Farnington&mdash;the sunset way I called it, 'cause the sun set over there;
+and I can see him big and tall like Ben here, moving away among the
+heather till we lost him at the dip of the moor. And I mind how, just
+before we saw no more of him, he pulled up and looked back, as if
+mother's words stuck to him, somehow, and he couldn't get them out of
+his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother seemed queer and anxious all that afternoon. Long before dusk
+she called me in from playing in the bit of garden in front of the door,
+and shut and barred it closely, not so much as letting me stand outside
+to watch the sunset, as I always liked to do. It was getting dark
+already, the shadows had begun to fall black and gloomy all round the
+cottage, and the fire was sending queer dancing gleams flickering up the
+wall, when I hears a queer, scratching, whining noise at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother was putting out the tea-cups, and she didn't hear it at first.
+But I, sitting in front of the fire, heard it well enough, and I tumbled
+off my stool and ran to the door to get it open, for I thought I knew
+what it was. But mother had pulled the bar across at the top and I
+couldn't stir it.</p>
+
+<p>"'There's something at the door that wants to come in,' I says, pulling
+at it.</p>
+
+<p>"'There ain't nothing of the sort,' says mother shortly, and goes on
+putting out the tea. 'Let the door alone.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, there is,' I says. 'It's a dog. It's Nip, or Juno,' meaning the
+brace of pointers that dad had usually in the kennels outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Then mother, thinking that perhaps dad had found that one of the dogs
+could be spared after all, and had told it to go home, went to the door
+and opened it. I had been right and wrong too, for on the doorstep there
+was a large black dog.</p>
+
+<p>"My word! but he was a beautiful creature, sir, the finest dog I ever
+set eyes on. Like a setter in the make of him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> but no setter that ever
+I saw could match him for size or looks. His coat was jet-black, as
+glossy as the skin of a thoroughbred, with just one streak of white
+showing down the breast, and his eyes&mdash;well, they were the very
+humanest, sir, that ever I see looking out of a dog's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Now mother, although she had expected to find a dog outside, hadn't
+dreamt of anything except one of ourn, and she made like to shut the
+door on him. But the creature was too quick for her. He had pushed his
+head through before she knew it, and she scarcely saw how, or even felt
+the door press against her when he had slipped past and was in the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother was used to dogs, and hadn't no fear of them, but she didn't
+altogether like strange ones, you see, sir, me being such a child and
+all; and her first thought was to put the creature out. So she pulled
+the door wide open and pointed to it, stamping her foot and saying, 'Be
+off! Go-home.'</p>
+
+<p>"It was all very well to say that, but the dog wouldn't go. Not a step
+would he budge, but only stood there, wagging his tail and looking at
+her with them beautiful eyes of his, as were the biggest and
+beautifullest and softest I ever see in dog before or since. She took up
+a stick then, but his eyes were that imploring that she hadn't the heart
+to use it; and at last, for the odd kind of uneasiness that had hung
+about her ever since dad had gone was on her still, and the dog was a
+dog and meant protection whatever else it might be, she shut the door,
+barred it across, and said to me that we would let it stop.</p>
+
+<p>"I was delighted, of course, and wanted to make friends at once; but the
+queer thing was that the dog wouldn't let me touch him. He ran round
+under the table and lay down in a corner of the room, looking at me with
+his big soft eyes and wagging his tail, but never coming no nearer.
+Mother put down some water, and he lapped a little, but he only sniffed
+at a bone she threw him and didn't touch it.</p>
+
+<p>"It was quite dark by this time, and mother lit a candle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> and set it on
+the table to see to have tea by. Afterwards she took her knitting and
+sat down by the fire, and I leaned against her, nodding and half asleep.
+The dog lay in the corner farthest from us, between the fireplace and
+the wall; and I'd forgotten altogether about him, when mother looks up
+sudden. 'Bless me,' says she, 'how bright the fire do catch the wall
+to-night. I haven't dropped a spark over there, surely!' And up she gets
+and crosses over to t'other side to where the firelight was dancing and
+flickering on the cottage wall.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, sir, whether it was no more than just the light catching them,
+mind you, I can't say. I only know that as mother come to the corner
+where that dog was a-lying, and he lifted his head and looked at her,
+his eyes were a-shining with a queer lamping sort of light, that seemed
+to make the place bright all round him. But it wasn't till afterwards
+that she thought of it, for at that moment there came a sudden sharp
+knock at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"My eye! how mother jumped; and I see her face turn white. For in that
+lonely out-of-the-way place we never looked for visitors after dark, nor
+in the day time, many of 'em; and the sound of this knock now give her
+quite a turn. Presently there come a faint voice from outside, asking
+for a crust of bread.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother didn't stir for a moment, for the notion of unbarring the door
+went against her. The knock come a second time.</p>
+
+<p>"'For pity's sake&mdash;for the sake of the child,' the voice said again,
+pleading like.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, mother was terrible soft-hearted, sir, wherever children were
+concerned, and the mention of a child went straight home to her heart. I
+see her glance at me, and I knowed the thought passing through her mind,
+as after a moment's pause she got up, stepped across the room and
+unbarred the door. On the step outside stood a woman with a baby in her
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Her voice had sounded faint-like, but there was nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> in the
+fainting line about her when she had got inside, for she come inside
+quick enough the moment mother had unbarred the door. She looked like a
+gipsy, for her face was dark and swarthy, and the shawl round her head
+hid a'most all but the wild gleam of her eyes; and all the time she kep'
+on rock, rocking that child in her arms until I reckon she must have
+rocked all the crying out of it, for never a word come from its lips.
+She sat down where mother pointed, and took the food she was given, but
+she offered nothing to the child. It was asleep, she said, when mother
+wanted to look at it.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, she was a gipsy, and on the tramp across the moor she had missed
+her way in the fog; for there was a heavy fog coming up. 'How far was it
+to Farnington? Twelve miles? She'd be thankful to sit and rest by the
+fire a bit, then, if mother would let her.' And without waiting for yes
+or no, she turned round and put the child out of her arms down on the
+settle at her back. Then she swung round again and sat staring with her
+black eyes at the fire. I was sat on my stool opposite, and, child-like,
+I never so much as took my eyes off her, wondering at her gaunt make,
+the big feet in the clumsy men's boots that showed beneath her skirts,
+and the lean powerful hands lying in her lap. Seems she didn't
+altogether like me watching her, for after a bit she turns on me and
+asks:</p>
+
+<p>"'What are you staring at, you brat?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Nothin',' says I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Then if you wants to look at nothin',' says she with a short laugh,
+'you can go and stare at the kiddy there, not at me.' And she jerked her
+head towards the settle, where the baby was a-lying.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ah, poor little thing,' says mother, getting up, 'it don't seem
+natural for it to lie there that quiet. I'll bring it to the fire and
+warm it a drop o' milk.'</p>
+
+<p>"She bent down over the baby and was just about to take it in her arms,
+when she give a scream that startled me off my stool, and stood up, her
+face as white as death. For<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> it was nothing but a shawl or two rolled
+round something stiff and heavy as was lying on the settle, and no child
+at all.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a-looking at mother, and I had no eyes for the woman until I see
+mother's face change and an awful look of fear come over it. And when I
+turned to see what she was staring at with them wild eyes, the woman had
+flung off her shawl and the wrap she wore round her head, and was stood
+up with a horrid, mocking smile on his face. For it was no woman, sir,
+as you'll have guessed, but a man.</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, mistress,' he says, coming forward a pace or two, 'I didn't mean
+to let the cat out of the bag so soon; but what's done's done. There's a
+little trifle of rent-money put by for the agent, as I've taken a fancy
+to; and that's what's brought me here. If you hand it over quietly, so
+much the better for you; if not.... I'm not one to stick at trifles;
+I've come for that money, and have it I will.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I have not got it,' mother said, plucking up what heart she could, and
+speaking through her white and trembling lips.</p>
+
+<p>"'That don't go down with me,' said the fellow with an oath. 'I didn't
+sleep under the lee of Tom Regan's hayrick for nothin' last night, and I
+heard every word that was spoken between him and your Jim. You'd better
+tell me where you've got it stowed, or you'll be sorry for it. You're a
+woman, mind you, and alone.'</p>
+
+<p>"Mother's lips went whiter than ever, but she said never a word. I had
+begun to cry.</p>
+
+<p>"'Hold your row, you snivelling brat,' the fellow said with a curse.
+'Come, mistress, you'd best not try my patience too long.'</p>
+
+<p>"Now, mother was a brave woman, as I've said, and I don't believe, if
+the money had been left in her charge, as she'd have given it up tamely
+and without so much as a word. But of course, as things were, she could
+do no more than say, over and over again, as she hadn't got it. Then the
+brute began to threaten her, with threats that made her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> blood run cold;
+for she was only a woman, sir, and alone, except for me, a child as
+could do nothing in the way of help. With a last horrid threat on his
+lips the fellow turned towards the settle&mdash;there was a pistol hid in the
+clothes of the sham baby we found out afterwards&mdash;when he was stopped by
+something as come soft and noiseless out of the corner beyond and got
+right in his way. I see what it was after a minute. Between him and the
+settle where the pistol was lying there was standing that dog.</p>
+
+<p>"The creature had showed neither sight nor sound of itself since the
+woman had come in, and we'd forgotten about it altogether, mother and
+me. There it stood now, though, still as a stone, but all on the watch,
+the lips drawn back from the sharp white teeth, and its eyes fixed, with
+a savage gleam in them, on the fellow's face. I was nothing but a child,
+and no thought of anything beyond had come to me then; but I tell you,
+sir, child as I was, I couldn't help feeling that the grin on the
+creature's face had something more than dog-like in it; and for nights
+to come I couldn't get the thought of it out of my head.</p>
+
+<p>"Our visitor looked a bit took aback when he saw the creature, for most
+of his sort are terrible feared of a dog. But 'twas only for a moment,
+and then he laughed right out.</p>
+
+<p>"'He's an ugly customer, but he won't help you much, mistress,' he said
+with a sneer. 'I've something here as'll settle <i>him</i> fast enough.' With
+that he stretched out his hand towards the bundle on the settle.</p>
+
+<p>"The hand never reached it, sir. You know the choking, worrying snarl a
+dog gives before he springs to grip his enemy by the throat, the growl
+that means a movement&mdash;and death! That sound stopped the scoundrel, and
+kept him, unable to stir hand or foot, with the dog in front of him,
+never moving, never uttering a sound beyond that low threatening growl,
+but watching, only watching. He might have been armed with a dozen
+weapons, and it would have been all the same. Those sharp, bared fangs
+would have met in his throat before he could have gripped the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> pistol
+within a foot of his hand; and he knew it, and the knowledge kept him
+there still as a stone, with the dog never taking its watching, burning
+eyes from his face.</p>
+
+<p>"'I'm done,' he owned at last, when minutes that seemed like hours had
+gone by. 'I'm done this time, mistress, thanks to the dog-fiend you've
+got here. I tell you I'd not have stopped at murder when I come in; but
+that kid of yours could best me now. Make the devil brute take his eyes
+off me, and let me go.'</p>
+
+<p>"All trembling like a leaf, mother got to the door and drew back the
+bar. The fellow crossed the kitchen and slunk out, and the dog went with
+him. It followed him with its nose close at his knee as he crossed the
+threshold, and the two of them went like that, out into the fog and over
+the lonely moorland into the night. We never saw nor heard of the dog
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"There were gipsies in the neighbourhood, crossing the moor out Wharton
+way, and when the story got about folk told us as 'twas known they had
+some strange-looking dogs with them, and said that this one must have
+belonged to the lot. But mother, she never believed in nothin' of the
+sort, and to the day of her death she would have it as the creature had
+been sent to guard her and me from the danger that was to come to us
+that night. She held that it was something more than a dog, sir; and you
+see there was one thing about it uncommon strange. When dad come back
+that next morning, our two pointers, Nip and Juno, followed him into the
+cottage. But the moment they got inside a sort of turn came over them,
+and they rushed out all queer and scared; while as for the water mother
+had set down for the black dog to drink, there was no getting them to
+put their lips to it. Not thirsty, sir? Well, sir, seeing as there
+warn't no water within six mile or so, and they'd come ten miles that
+morning over the moor, you'll excuse me saying you don't know much about
+dogs if you reckon they warn't thirsty!</p>
+
+<p>"Coincidence you say, sir? Well, I dunno the meaning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> of that&mdash;maybe
+it's a word you gentles gives to the things you can't explain. But I've
+told you the story just as it happened, and I'd swear it's true, anyhow.
+If a gentleman like you can't see daylight in it, t'ain't for the likes
+of me to try; but I sticks to it that, say what folks will, the thing
+was uncommon strange.... Not tried the west side, haven't you, sir?
+Bless your heart, Ben, what be you a-thinking of? The birds are as thick
+as blackberries down by the Grey Rock and Deadman's Hollow."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a gruesome name," I said, rising and lifting my gun, while Ben
+coupled up the brace of dogs. I noticed a glance exchanged between
+father and son as the younger man lifted his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," responded the former quietly; "the morning after that night
+I've been telling you of, the body of a man was found down there, and
+that's how the hollow got its name. Mother, she knew him again the
+moment she set eyes on the dead face, for all he'd got quit of the
+woman's clothes; and there warn't no mark nor wound on him, to show how
+he'd come by his death. Oh, yes, sir; I ain't saying as the fog warn't
+thick that night, nor as how it wouldn't have been easy enough for him
+to ha' missed his footing in the dark; though to be sure there were
+folks as would have it 'twarn't <i>that</i> as killed him.... Good-day to
+you, sir, and thank you kindly. Ben here'll see to your having good
+sport."</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>It was vexing to find so much gross superstition still extant in this
+last decade of the nineteenth century, certainly. Yet for all that, and
+though the notion of a spook dog was something too much for the
+materialistic mind to swallow, there is no use denying that, as I stood
+an hour later in Deadman's Hollow, with the recollection of the weird
+story I had just heard fresh in my memory, I was conscious of a cold
+shiver, which all the strength of the August sunshine, bathing the
+moorland in a glow of gold, was quite unable to lessen or to drive
+away.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_WRECK_OF_THE_MAY_QUEEN" id="THE_WRECK_OF_THE_MAY_QUEEN"></a>THE WRECK OF THE <i>MAY QUEEN</i>.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALICE F. JACKSON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>There was something in the air. Something ominous. A whisper of which we
+heard only the rustle, as it were&mdash;nothing of the words; but when one is
+on the bosom of the deep&mdash;hundreds of miles from land&mdash;in the middle of
+the Pacific Ocean&mdash;ominous whispers are, to say the least of it, a
+trifle disconcerting.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" whispered Sylvia.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything wrong with the ship?"</p>
+
+<p>But I could only shrug my shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia said, "Let us ask Dr. Atherton."</p>
+
+<p>So we did. But Dr. Atherton only smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"There was something behind that smile of his," said Sylvia,
+suspiciously. "As if we were babies, either of us," she added, severely.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, there was something suspicious in that smile. And Dr. Atherton
+hadn't looked at us full in the face while he talked. Besides, there was
+a sort of lurking pity in his voice; and&mdash;yes, I'm sure his lip had
+twitched a little nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should he be nervous if there is nothing the matter with the ship?"</p>
+
+<p>"And why should he look as if he felt sorry for us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let's ask the captain," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Just leave the ship in my keeping, young ladies," said the captain,
+when we asked him. "Go back to your fancy-work and your books."</p>
+
+<p>The <i>May Queen</i> was not a regular passenger ship. Sylvia,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> and I, and
+Dr. Atherton were the only passengers. She was laden with wool&mdash;a cargo
+boat; but Sylvia and I were accommodated with such a pretty cabin!</p>
+
+<p>We had left Sydney in the captain's charge. Father wanted us to have a
+year's schooling in England; and we were coming to Devonshire to live
+with Aunt Sabina, and get a little polishing at a finishing school.</p>
+
+<p>Of course we had chummed up with Dr. Atherton, though we had never met
+him before. One's obliged to be friendly with every one on board, you
+know; and then he was the only one there was to be friendly with. He was
+acting as the ship's surgeon for the voyage home. He was going to
+practise in England. He was, perhaps, twenty-five&mdash;not more than
+twenty-six, at any rate, and on the strength of that he began to
+constitute himself a sort of second guardian over us.</p>
+
+<p>We didn't object. He was very nice. And, indeed, he made the time pass
+very pleasantly for us.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia was sixteen, and I was fifteen; and the grey-haired captain was
+the kindest chaperon.</p>
+
+<p>For the first fortnight we had the most delightful weather; and then it
+began to blow a horrid gale. The <i>May Queen</i> pitched frightfully, and
+"took in," as the sailors said, "a deal of water."</p>
+
+<p>For three days the storm raged violently. We thought the ship would
+never weather it. I don't know what we should have done without Dr.
+Atherton. And then quite suddenly the wind died away, and there came a
+heavenly calm.</p>
+
+<p>The sea was like a mill-pond. It was beautiful! Sylvia and I began to
+breathe again, when, all at once, we felt that ominous something in the
+air.</p>
+
+<p>"Thud! thud! thud!" All day long we heard that curious sound&mdash;and at
+dead of night too, if we happened to be awake. "Thud! thud! thud!"
+unceasingly.</p>
+
+<p>The sailors, too, forgot their jocular sayings, and seemed too busy now
+to notice us. Some looked flurried, some looked sullen; but all looked
+anxious, we thought. And they were working, working, always working away
+at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> bottom of the ship. And always that "thud! thud! thud!"</p>
+
+<p>And then we learned by accident what the matter was.</p>
+
+<p>"Five feet of water in the well!" It was the captain's voice.</p>
+
+<p>And Dr. Atherton's murmured something that we did not catch.</p>
+
+<p>We were in the cabin, and the door was just ajar. They thought we girls
+were up on deck, I suppose. Sylvia flung out her hand and pressed me on
+the arm; and then she put her finger on her lip.</p>
+
+<p>"All hands are at the pumps," the captain said. "Their exertions are
+counteracting the leak. The water in the well is neither more nor less.
+I've just been sounding it again."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't the leak be stopped?" asked Dr. Atherton.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if we could find it. We've been creeping about her ribs all the
+better part of the morning, but we cannot discover the leak."</p>
+
+<p>"And the water's still coming in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Still coming in. They're working like galley-slaves to keep it under,
+but we make no headway at all. I greatly fear that some of her seams
+have opened during the gale."</p>
+
+<p>"And that means&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That means the water is coming in through numerous apertures," said the
+captain grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"Is the <i>May Queen</i> in danger, captain?" asked Dr. Atherton in a steady
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause. We could hear our own hearts beat. And then:</p>
+
+<p>"I would to Heaven that those girls were not on board!"</p>
+
+<p>"But we are!" It was Sylvia's voice. With a bound she had flung open the
+door, and stood confronting the astonished pair. "We are here. And as we
+are here, Captain Maitland, oh! don't, don't keep us in the dark!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!" ejaculated the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>And the captain said in his severest tones:</p>
+
+<p>"Young lady, you've been eavesdropping, I see. Let me tell you that's a
+thing I won't allow."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>"Oh! Captain Maitland, is the ship in danger?" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>But the captain only glared at me. He looked excessively annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>Then Sylvia ran up and put her hand upon his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"We could not help hearing," she said. "If the ship is in danger really,
+it is better for us to know. Please, don't be vexed with us; but we'd
+rather be told the truth. We&mdash;we&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Are not babies," I put in, with my heart going pit-a-pat.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor cowards," added Sylvia, with a lip that trembled a little.</p>
+
+<p>It made the captain cough.</p>
+
+<p>"The&mdash;the <i>May Queen</i> has sprung a leak?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"You heard me say so, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"And the ship is in danger, Captain Maitland?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can you trust me, young lady?" was his answer.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia put her hand in his.</p>
+
+<p>"You know we trust you," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He caught it in a hearty grasp; and gave me an encouraging smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you for that, my child. The <i>May Queen's</i> got five feet of water
+in her well, because she got damaged in that gale. So far we're managing
+to pump the water out as fast as the water comes in. D'you follow me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," fluttered to her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"So far, so good. Don't worry. Try not to trouble your heads about this
+thing at all. Just say to yourselves, 'The captain's at the helm.' All
+that can be done <i>is</i> being done, young ladies. And," pointing upwards,
+"the other CAPTAIN'S aloft."</p>
+
+<p>He was gone. In a dazed way I heard Dr. Atherton saying something to
+Sylvia. And a few minutes after that he, too, had disappeared. "Gone,"
+Sylvia said in an awe-struck whisper, "to work in his turn at the
+pumps."</p>
+
+<p>No need to wonder now at that unceasing "Thud! thud!" The noise of it
+not only sounded in our ears, it struck us like blows on our hearts.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>We crept up on deck. We could breathe there. We could see. Oh! how awful
+was the thought of going down, down&mdash;drowning in the cabin below!</p>
+
+<p>Air, and light, and God's sky was above. And we prayed to the <span class="smcap">Captain</span>
+aloft.</p>
+
+<p>The sea was so calm that danger, after having weathered that fearful
+gale, seemed almost impossible to us. The blue water reflected the blue
+heaven above; and when the setting sun cast a rosy light over the sky,
+the sea caught the reflection as well.</p>
+
+<p>It was beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>"It doesn't seem so dangerous now, Sylvia," I whispered, "as it felt
+during the gale."</p>
+
+<p>"No," came through her colourless lips.</p>
+
+<p>"There's not a ripple on the sea," I said; "and if they keep on pumping
+the water out, we'll&mdash;we'll get to land in time."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, and held my hand a little tighter. After a while, "I
+wonder if we're very far from land."</p>
+
+<p>"Nine hundred miles, I think I heard Mr. Wheeler say." She shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wheeler was the first mate.</p>
+
+<p>I looked across the wild waste of water, and shuddered too. So calm&mdash;so
+endless!</p>
+
+<p>The men were working like galley-slaves down below, pumping turn and
+turn about, watch and watch. We saw the relieved gang come up bathed in
+perspiration. They were labouring for their lives, we knew.</p>
+
+<p>Now and again some sailor, passing by, would say:</p>
+
+<p>"Keep a good heart, little leddies," and look over his shoulder with a
+cheerful smile.</p>
+
+<p>It made us cheer up too.</p>
+
+<p>We heard one say they were pumping one hundred tons of water every hour
+out of the ship. It sounded appalling.</p>
+
+<p>In a little while a light breeze began to blow. "From the south-west,"
+somebody said it was.</p>
+
+<p>And then we heard the captain give an order about "making all sail" in
+the ship.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>Every man that could be spared from the pumps set about it directly; and
+soon great sails flew up flapping in the breeze, and the <i>May Queen</i>
+went flying before the wind.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-by Dr. Atherton came, and ordered us down to the saloon, and made
+us each drink a glass of wine. And then Mr. Wheeler joined us; and we
+sat down to supper just as we had done many a happy evening before&mdash;only
+that the captain didn't come to the table as usual, but had his supper
+carried away to him.</p>
+
+<p>We learned that the captain had altered the ship's course, and "put the
+<i>May Queen</i> right before the wind," and that he was "steering for the
+nearest land."</p>
+
+<p>It comforted us.</p>
+
+<p>"We have gained a little on the leak," the first mate said. "Three
+inches!"</p>
+
+<p>"Only three inches!" we cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Three inches is a great victory," Mr. Wheeler replied. "I think it's
+the turn of the tide."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God!" muttered Dr. Atherton.</p>
+
+<p>We lay down in our narrow berths still comforted, and slept like tops
+all night. I'm not sure that the doctor hadn't given us something to
+make us sleep when he gave us a drink, as he innocently said, "to settle
+and soothe our nerves."</p>
+
+<p>"Thud! thud! thud!" The ominous sound was in my ears the moment I opened
+my eyes, and all the terror of the preceding day came crowding into my
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Sara, are you awake?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Sylvia."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you sleep?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like a top."</p>
+
+<p>"So did I."</p>
+
+<p>Yes, we had slept, and while we slept the sailors had worked all night.
+And all night long, like some poor haunted thing, the <i>May Queen</i> had
+glided on.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Wheeler, has the water lessened in the well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning, Miss Redding," was his reply.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>His face was pale. Great beads of perspiration were rolling down his
+cheeks. He began to mop them with a damp handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Dr. Atherton came on the scene. "Good-morning, young
+ladies," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Such a slovenly-looking doctor! And we used to think him such a
+sprucely-got-up man. There was no collar round his neck, and his hair
+hung in damp strings on his forehead. And he had no coat on, not a
+waistcoat either, nor did he look a bit abashed.</p>
+
+<p>"Sleep well?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wheeler seized the opportunity to slink away.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You</i> haven't slept!" we cried.</p>
+
+<p>He didn't reply. His haggard face, the red rims round his tired eyes
+were answer enough.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been up all night?" said Sylvia calmly.</p>
+
+<p>I burst into a whimpering wail.</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't, Miss Sara," urged the doctor soothingly.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia said, "Has more water come into the ship?"</p>
+
+<p>"The water has gained on us a trifle," he said reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mr. Wheeler said we'd gained three inches yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"Go back into your cabin," he said. "Some breakfast will be sent to you
+there directly. We&mdash;we are not fit to breakfast with ladies this
+morning," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! not to the cabin. Please let us go on deck."</p>
+
+<p>"The captain's orders were the cabin," he said. "Hush, hush! Don't cry
+any more, Miss Sara," patting my shoulder, "there's a good girl. It
+would worry the captain dreadfully to hear you. His chief anxiety is
+having you on board. You wouldn't make his anxiety greater, would you
+now? See, Miss Sylvia, I rely on you. Take her to the cabin, and eat
+your breakfast there. After breakfast," he added soothingly, "I daresay
+you will be allowed to go on deck."</p>
+
+<p>We went back. We sat huddled together. We held each other's hands.
+Sylvia didn't cry. Her face was white. Her eyes were shining. "Don't,
+Sara," she kept on saying, "crying can do no good."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>Breakfast came. Neither of us ate much. How callously we sent the
+greater part of it away! Afterwards we remembered it. At present we
+could think of nothing but the leaking ship.</p>
+
+<p>And "Thud! thud! thud!" It was like the heart of the <i>May Queen</i>,
+beating, beating! How long would it take to burst?</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast we were allowed to go on deck. Oh! how the brilliant
+sunshine seemed to mock us there! And such a sea! Blue, beautiful,
+peaceful, smiling! A vast mill-pond. And water, water everywhere!</p>
+
+<p>Sea and sky! Nothing but sea and sky! And not a little, littlest speck
+of Mother Earth!</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Wheeler, are we nearer land?"</p>
+
+<p>"A little nearer, Miss Sylvia."</p>
+
+<p>"How much nearer?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's run two hundred and fifty miles," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Two hundred and fifty miles! And yesterday we were nearly a thousand
+miles from land!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss Sara."</p>
+
+<p>I could have screamed. It was sheer despair that kept me silent&mdash;perhaps
+a little shame. Sylvia stood beside him with her hands clenched tight.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't there any likelihood of some ship passing by?"</p>
+
+<p>"Every likelihood," he said.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment the relieved gang came up. They were changed. Not the
+brave hopeful men we had seen yesterday. They were disheartened. Indeed,
+we read despair in many faces.</p>
+
+<p>One big burly fellow lighted a pipe. He gave a puff or two. "No use
+pumping this darned ship," he said. "She's doomed."</p>
+
+<p>And as if to corroborate this awful fact a voice sang out:</p>
+
+<p>"Seven feet o' water in the hold!"</p>
+
+<p>This announcement seemed to demoralise the sailors. One burst out
+crying. Another cursed and swore. Others ran in a flurried way about the
+ship. For ten minutes or so all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> was confusion. And then a stentorian
+voice rose above the din.</p>
+
+<p>"All hands to the boats!" It was the captain's. And immediately every
+man came scrambling from the pumps, and I felt my hand taken in an iron
+grasp.</p>
+
+<p>"We're going to abandon the ship. We're going to take to the boats. Come
+down to your cabin and gather all you value. Be quick about it," said
+the doctor, "there isn't much time to spare. They're going to provision
+the boats before they lower them, so you can pack up all you want."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke roughly. He pushed me along in front of him. I was so
+dumfounded that I could not resent it. Down in the cabin he looked at
+me. His stern eye dared me to faint.</p>
+
+<p>I heard Sylvia say, "Can we take that little box?"</p>
+
+<p>And I heard him answer, "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>He was gone. I saw Sylvia, through a mist, pushing things into the box.
+And the doctor was back again.</p>
+
+<p>A fiery something was in my mouth, and trickling down my throat. I
+tasted brandy.</p>
+
+<p>"That's better," said the doctor, patting my back. "Make haste and help
+your sister. Yes, Miss Sylvia, shove it all in." And then he began to
+drag the blankets from our berths.</p>
+
+<p>"The leddies ready? Leddies fust!" And down tumbled a sailor for the
+trunk.</p>
+
+<p>Up the companion-ladder for the last time, the doctor prodding me in the
+back with his load of blankets. Sylvia, with a white face, carrying a
+little hand-bag. And the captain coming to meet us in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"This one first." And I was picked up in his arms as if I'd been a baby.
+"Ready, Wheeler?" And I was lowered into the first mate's arms, and
+placed on a seat in the cutter.</p>
+
+<p>The next thing I knew was that Sylvia was by my side; and that the
+doctor was tucking a blanket about our knees. After that four or five
+sailors jumped into the boat, and the captain shouted in a frantic
+hurry:</p>
+
+<p>"Shove her off!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>The cutter fell astern. The long-boat then came forward, and all the
+rest of the sailors crowded in. The captain was left the last.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry up, sir!" shouted Mr. Wheeler. But the captain had disappeared.
+He had run down to his cabin for some papers.</p>
+
+<p>"She's full of water!" cried one of the sailors in the long boat. And as
+he spoke the <i>May Queen stopped dead, and shook</i>.</p>
+
+<p>With a yell one of the men cut the rope that held the long-boat to the
+ship, and shoved off like lightning from the sinking vessel.</p>
+
+<p>Only in time.</p>
+
+<p>The next moment the <i>May Queen</i> pitched gently forward. Her bows went
+under water.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain!" shrieked the sailors in a deafening chorus.</p>
+
+<p>Then her stern settled down. The sea parted in a great gulf. The waves
+rolled over her upper deck. And with her sails all spread the <i>May
+Queen</i> went down into the abyss.</p>
+
+<p>A hoarse cry burst from every throat; and the boats danced on the
+bubbling, foaming water. The sailors stood up all ready to save him,
+crying to each other that he'd come to the surface soon. But he never
+did.</p>
+
+<p>They rowed all round and round the spot, but not a vestige of the
+captain did we see.</p>
+
+<p>"Sucked under&mdash;by Heaven!" cried the first mate in a tone of horror.</p>
+
+<p>And we were adrift on the Pacific.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC" id="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC"></a>ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALICE F. JACKSON.</h3>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC_I" id="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC_I"></a>I.</h4>
+
+<p>The captain was drowned, and the <i>May Queen</i> was wrecked, and we were
+adrift on the ocean. Adrift in a cockle-shell of an open boat more than
+six hundred miles from land! No&mdash;<i>no</i>! It's some horrible nightmare!</p>
+
+<p>For the first few moments everybody sat benumbed, staring awe-struck
+into each other's faces.</p>
+
+<p>Then&mdash;"Christ have mercy on his soul!" somebody said.</p>
+
+<p>And, "Amen!" came the answer in a deep whisper.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Wheeler gave some order in a voice that shook, and we rowed
+from the fatal spot.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia sat with one hand covering her face. Her other arm crept round my
+waist. I was so dazed I could hardly think&mdash;too bewildered to grasp what
+had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor child!" said Dr. Atherton.</p>
+
+<p>"Sara, Dr. Atherton is speaking to you ... Sara!"</p>
+
+<p>I raised my head.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor child!" I heard again. "Sit up and drink this," said the doctor's
+voice, and I felt him chafing my hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Sara, won't you try to be brave? Look at Miss Sylvia," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"She be a rare plucked 'un, she be. Cheer up, you poor little 'un!"</p>
+
+<p>"While there is life, there's 'ope, little miss. Thank the Lord, we're
+not all on us drowned."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>I burst into tears, I was ashamed that I did; but it was oh! such a
+relief to cry.</p>
+
+<p>When I came to myself they were talking together. I heard in a stupefied
+way.</p>
+
+<p>"No immediate peril, thank God."</p>
+
+<p>"Not in calm weather like this."</p>
+
+<p>"Two chances for life&mdash;she must either make land, or be picked up by
+some vessel at sea."</p>
+
+<p>"... Beautifully still it is, Miss Sylvia. Might have been shipwrecked
+in a storm, you know."</p>
+
+<p>It came to my confused senses that they were very good&mdash;these men; for
+they, too, were in peril of their lives; yet the chief anxiety of one
+and all was to calm mine and Sylvia's fears.</p>
+
+<p>Another blanket was passed up for us to sit upon. And then they started
+an earnest consultation among themselves.</p>
+
+<p>There were four sailors in our boat. Gilliland&mdash;the big, burly fellow
+who had lighted his pipe&mdash;and Evans, and Hookway, and Davis. Dr.
+Atherton and the first mate made six; and Sylvia and I made eight.</p>
+
+<p>The long-boat was a good deal bigger than the cutter; and she held
+eighteen to twenty men.</p>
+
+<p>We gathered from their talk that the <i>May Queen</i>, after Captain Maitland
+had altered her course, had run two hundred and fifty miles out of what
+they termed "the track of trade"; and that unless we got back to the old
+track again, there was small chance of our being picked up by another
+vessel.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, to make for the nearest land, we would have to
+traverse the ocean for some six hundred miles, and Mr. Wheeler, it
+seemed, was hesitating as to which course to take.</p>
+
+<p>The men in the long-boat bawled to the men in the cutter, and the men in
+the cutter shouted their answers back, the upshot of which was that Mr.
+Wheeler decided to get back into the track of trade.</p>
+
+<p>"Make all sail," he shouted to the men in the long-boat, "and keep her
+head nor' east."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>And, "Ay, ay, sir," came the answer over the water.</p>
+
+<p>The men in the cutter ran up the sails too, and soon we were sailing
+after the long-boat. The longboat, however, sailed much faster than the
+cutter. Sometimes she lowered her sails on purpose to wait for us.</p>
+
+<p>The weather was perfect. The sea was beautiful. In the middle of the
+Pacific Ocean, and hardly a ripple on the waves!</p>
+
+<p>"We could hold out for weeks in weather like this!" cried the doctor
+cheerfully. And then to Gilliland:</p>
+
+<p>"The boats are well provisioned, you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"A month's provisions on board, sir. That was the captain's orders. Me
+and Hookway had the doing of it."</p>
+
+<p>"And water?" asked the doctor anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty of water, and rum likewise," replied the sailor, with an
+affectionate glance at one of the little barrels.</p>
+
+<p>"I see only two small casks here," said the doctor sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty more on board the long-boat. Ain't there, Hookway?"</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty more, sir. The long-boat can stow away a deal more than the
+cutter. When we've got through this keg of spirit," putting his hand on
+one of the little casks, "and drunk up that there barrel of water, we've
+only got to signal the long-boat, and get another barrel out of her."</p>
+
+<p>"The food is on the long-boat, too, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are, sir. And here's a lump o' corned beef. And here's a loaf
+o' bread. And likewise a bag o' biscuit for present requirements."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" said the doctor, "I'm glad of that. Hand me up that loaf,
+Davis, if you please. Mr. Wheeler, the spirits, of course, are in your
+charge. May I ask you to mix a small mug of rum and water for these
+ladies?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I couldn't drink rum, doctor," objected Sylvia.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! yes, you can. And you're going to eat this sandwich of corned beef
+and bread. Excuse fingers, Miss Sara," he added, handing me a sandwich
+between his finger and thumb. "Fingers were made before knives and
+forks. And now you're to share this mug of rum and water."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>"It's very weak, I assure you," said Mr. Wheeler, smiling. "Drink up
+every drop of it," he added kindly. "It will do you both good."</p>
+
+<p>We thanked him and obeyed. And while we ate our sandwiches the men ate
+biscuit and beef; and then Mr. Wheeler poured them out a small allowance
+of rum.</p>
+
+<p>The cutter sailed smoothly. And the men told yarns. But every eye was on
+the look-out for the smoke of some passing ship.</p>
+
+<p>We saw none. Not a speck on the ocean, save the long-boat ahead. And
+by-and-by the sun set, and a little fog crept up. And the night came on
+as black as pitch and very drear.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia and I huddled close in the blanket that Dr. Atherton had tied
+about our shoulders; and whispered our prayers together.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow will be Sunday, Sylvia," I said.</p>
+
+<p>And she whispered back: "They will pray for those that travel by water
+in the Litany."</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC_II" id="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC_II"></a>II.</h4>
+
+<p>I couldn't sleep. Every time I began to lose consciousness I started up
+in a fright, and saw the <i>May Queen</i> going down into the sea again; and
+fancied I saw the captain struggling in the cabin. It was terrible.</p>
+
+<p>I could hear the men snoring peacefully in the boat. They were all
+asleep except the helmsman.</p>
+
+<p>At midnight he roused up another man to take his place; and after that I
+remembered no more till I started up in the grey dawn with a loud
+"Ahoy!" quivering in my ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Ahoy! A-hoy!"</p>
+
+<p>Everybody was wide awake. Everybody wanted to know what the matter was.
+And everybody was looking at the helmsman who was peering out at sea.</p>
+
+<p>It was Gilliland. He turned a strange, scared face to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> others in the
+cutter, and:&mdash;"<i>The long-boat's not in sight!</i>" said he.</p>
+
+<p>Somebody let out an oath. And every eye stared wildly over the sea. It
+was quite true. Not a speck, not a streak we saw upon the ocean&mdash;the
+long-boat had disappeared!</p>
+
+<p>"God in heaven!" ejaculated the first mate. "She must have capsized in
+the night!"</p>
+
+<p>"And if we don't capsize, we'll starve," said the doctor, "<i>for she had
+all our provisions on board</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>There was an awful silence for just three minutes. Then the man who had
+sworn before shot out another oath. Hookway began to rave like a madman.
+Evans burst into sobs. Davis began to swear horribly, and cursed
+Gilliland for putting the provisions in the other boat.</p>
+
+<p>It was terrible.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Sylvia's voice rose trembling above the babel, quaveringly she
+struck up the refrain of the sailor's hymn:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>"O hear us when we cry to Thee</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>For those in peril on the sea."</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"God bless you, miss!" cried Gilliland. And taking up the tune, he
+dashed into the first verse:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>"Eternal Father, strong to save,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Whose arm hath bound the restless wave.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Its own appointed limits keep:"</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The doctor and the first mate joined in the refrain. And Hookway ceased
+to rave. They sang the hymn right through. The last verse was sung by
+every one. The "<i>Amen</i>" went up like a prayer at the end. And the
+sailors, with their caps in their hands, some of them with tears in
+their eyes, looked gratefully at Sylvia and murmured, "Thank you, miss."</p>
+
+<p>Oh! the days that followed, and the long, hungry nights! Even now I
+dream of them, and start up trembling in my sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia and I have very tender hearts when we hear of the starving poor.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>To be hungry&mdash;oh! it is terrible. But to be thirsty too! And to feel
+that one is dying of thirst&mdash;and water everywhere!</p>
+
+<p>For those first dreadful days Mr. Wheeler dealt out half a biscuit to
+each&mdash;half a biscuit with a morsel of beef that had to be breakfast, and
+dinner, and tea! And just a little half mug of water tinctured with a
+drop of rum!</p>
+
+<p>And on that we lived, eight people in the cutter, for something like
+eleven days! Eleven days in a scorching sun! Eleven calm, horrible
+nights!</p>
+
+<p>We wanted a breeze. And no breeze came, though we prayed for it night
+and day. The remorseless ocean was like a sheet of glass. The sun shone
+fiercely in the heavens. It made the sides of the cutter so hot that it
+hurt our poor hands to touch it.</p>
+
+<p>And all those days no sign of a sail! Not a vestige of a passing ship!</p>
+
+<p>Evans and Davis grumbled and swore. And so did Hookway sometimes.
+Gilliland was the most patient of the sailors; and tried to cheer up
+every one else with stories of other people's escapes.</p>
+
+<p>On the <i>May Queen</i> Sylvia and I had thought Mr. Wheeler rather a
+commonplace sort of man. We knew him for a hero in the cutter. Often he
+used to break off pieces of his biscuit, I know, to add to Sylvia's and
+mine.</p>
+
+<p>"Friends," he said on the eleventh day, "the biscuit is all gone." His
+face was ghastly. His eyes were hollow. His lips were cracked and sore.</p>
+
+<p>"And the water?" asked the doctor faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"Barely a teaspoon apiece."</p>
+
+<p>"Keep it for the women then," suggested Dr. Atherton.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" shouted Davis with an oath.</p>
+
+<p>And, "We're all in the same boat," muttered Evans.</p>
+
+<p>Gilliland lifted his bloodshot eyes. "Hold your jaw!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Hookway groaned feebly.</p>
+
+<p>They looked more like wild beasts than men, with their ghastly faces,
+and their glaring eyes&mdash;especially Davis.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>He looked at me desperately. He thought I was going to have all the
+water.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't take more than my share, Mr. Wheeler," I said. And I looked at
+Sylvia. She was lying in the stern muttering feebly to herself. She
+didn't hear.</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you, miss!" said Davis, and burst into an agony of sobs.</p>
+
+<p>The last spoonful of water was handed round, the doctor forcing Sylvia's
+portion into her mouth.</p>
+
+<p>And we wafted on, only just moving along, for there was no breeze. And
+the sun beat on us. And the sea glared. And Davis cursed. And Hookway
+writhed and moaned.</p>
+
+<p>"Take down the sails," said the first mate. "They are useless without
+any wind. Rig them up as an awning instead."</p>
+
+<p>The men obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>Then the doctor seized a vessel, and filling it with sea-water poured it
+over Sylvia as she lay, soaking her, clothes and all.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, doctor!" I expostulated, wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to drench you too, Miss Sara. It will relieve the thirst," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia opened her eyes. "Oh! it's bliss!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Atherton then poured some salt water over me, and then over Mr.
+Wheeler and himself, and told the sailors to drench themselves as well.</p>
+
+<p>It <i>was</i> a little relief&mdash;only a very little; and the heat gradually
+dried us up again.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, give me the baler!" cried Davis in a little while, and he caught
+it out of Gilliland's hand. "D'ye think I'm going to die o' thirst with
+all this water about?" And dipping it over the side of the cutter, he
+lifted it to his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop him!" shouted the doctor in a frenzy. "The salt water'll make him
+mad!"</p>
+
+<p>And Gilliland, with a desperate thrust, tipped it over his clothes
+instead.</p>
+
+<p>Davis howled. He tried to fight; but Gilliland was too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> strong for him,
+and soon he was huddled up in the fore part of the boat, cursing and
+swearing dreadfully.</p>
+
+<p>After a time he quieted down, and then he became so queer.</p>
+
+<p>"Roast beef!" he murmured, smacking his lips. "An' taters! An' cabbage!
+An' gravy! An' Yorkshire pudden'! My eye! It's prime! And so's the beer,
+my hearties!"</p>
+
+<p>He smiled. The anguish died out of his face. He thought he was eating it
+all. And then he began to finish off his dinner with apple pie.</p>
+
+<p>"Stow your gab!" snarled Evans. "Wot a fool he is!"</p>
+
+<p>And, indeed, it was maddening to hear him.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later he struggled into a sitting posture and turned a rapturous
+face upon the sea. "Water!" he shouted. "Water! Water!" And before any
+of the sailors could raise a hand to stop him he had rolled over the
+side of the boat.</p>
+
+<p>The first mate shouted. The men, feeble though they were, sprang to do
+his bidding. They were not in time. With a gurgling cry Davis was jerked
+under the water suddenly. Next moment the water bubbled, and before it
+grew calm again the surface was stained with blood.</p>
+
+<p>"A shark's got him!" shrieked Hookway. And as he cried the great black
+fin of some awful thing came gliding after the cutter.</p>
+
+<p>"He's had <i>his</i> dinner," said Gilliland grimly; "and he's waiting for
+his supper now!"</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="section"><a name="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC_III" id="ADRIFT_ON_THE_PACIFIC_III"></a>III.</h4>
+
+<p>Oh! that terrible night, with the full moon shining down upon the quiet
+water! So still! So calm! Not a ripple on the wave! And that awful black
+something silently following us!</p>
+
+<p>Sylvia lay with her head upon the doctor's knee&mdash;one poor thin arm, half
+bared, across my lap. And so the morning found us.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>There was something the matter with Evans&mdash;something desperate. He was
+beginning to look like Davis&mdash;only worse. Something horrible in his
+ghastly face. It was wolfish. And his eyes&mdash;they were not like human
+eyes at all&mdash;they were the eyes of some fierce, wild beast. And they
+were fastened with a wolfish glare on Sylvia's half-bared arm. <i>He
+wanted to eat it!</i></p>
+
+<p>Stealthily he had got his clasp knife out. And stealthily he was
+crouching as if to make a spring. And I couldn't speak!</p>
+
+<p>My tongue, as the Bible expresses it, clave to the roof of my mouth. I
+was powerless to make a sound. And none of the others happened to be
+looking at him.</p>
+
+<p>I put my hand on Mr. Wheeler's knee and gave him a feeble push. I
+pointed dumbly at Evans.</p>
+
+<p>"Put down that knife!" cried Mr. Wheeler in a voice of command. "Evans!"</p>
+
+<p>With a cry so hideous&mdash;I can hear it now&mdash;the man lunged forward. Mr.
+Wheeler tried to seize the knife; but Evans suddenly plunged it into his
+shoulder; and the first mate fell with a groan.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was an awful struggle.</p>
+
+<p>Gilliland and Hookway fighting with Evans. And the doctor trying to
+protect Sylvia and me; and dragging the first mate away from the
+scuffling feet. And I praying out loud in my agony that death might come
+to our relief.</p>
+
+<p>He was down at last. Lying in the bottom of the boat, with Gilliland
+sitting astride him, and Hookway getting a rope to tie him up! The
+doctor leaning over Mr. Wheeler and trying to staunch the blood, and the
+first mate fainting away!</p>
+
+<p>And then&mdash;Oh! heavens! with a cry&mdash;Gilliland sprang to his feet,
+shouting! gesticulating! waving his cap! Had he, too, now, suddenly gone
+mad?</p>
+
+<p>"Ship ahoy! ahoy!" he shrieked, and we followed his pointing hand.</p>
+
+<p>And there, on the bosom of the endless sea, we saw a ship becalmed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>I suppose I swooned.</p>
+
+<p>When I recovered my senses, the cutter was creeping under her lee, and
+the crew were throwing us a rope.</p>
+
+<p>"The women first," said somebody in a cheerful voice. "And after them
+send up the wounded man."</p>
+
+<p>And soon kind, pitying faces were bending over us. And very tender hands
+were feeding Sylvia and me.</p>
+
+<p>"They've had a pooty consid'able squeak, I guess," said the cheerful
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>And somebody answered, "That's so."</p>
+
+<p>We had been picked up by an American schooner.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="A_STRANGE_VISITOR" id="A_STRANGE_VISITOR"></a>A STRANGE VISITOR.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY MAUD HEIGHINGTON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The Priory was a fine, rambling old house, which had recently come into
+Jack Cheriton's possession through the death of a parsimonious relative.</p>
+
+<p>Part of the building only had been kept in repair, while the remainder
+had fallen into decay, and was, in fact, only a picturesque ruin.</p>
+
+<p>The Cheritons' first visit to their newly acquired property was a sort
+of reconnoitre visit. They had come from Town for a month's holiday,
+bringing with them Thatcher&mdash;little Mollie's nurse&mdash;as general factotum.</p>
+
+<p>They had barely been in the house an hour when a telegram summoned
+Thatcher to her mother's deathbed, and a day or two later urgent
+business recalled Jack to Town.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll just call at the Lodge and get Mrs. Somers to come up as early as
+she can this morning, and stay the night with you, so you will not be
+alone long," he called as he hurried off.</p>
+
+<p>His wife and Mollie watched him out of sight, and then returned to the
+breakfast-room&mdash;the little one amusing herself with her doll, while her
+mother put the breakfast things together.</p>
+
+<p>Millicent Cheriton was no coward, but an undefinable sense of uneasiness
+was stealing over her. The Priory was fully half an hour's walk from the
+Lodge, which was the nearest house. Still further off, in the opposite
+direction, stood a large building, the nature of which they had not yet
+discovered.</p>
+
+<p>Jack had never left her even for one night since their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> marriage&mdash;and
+now she had not even Thatcher left to bear her company.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Somers will soon be here," she said in a comforting tone to
+Mollie, who, however, was too intent upon her doll to notice, and
+certainly did not share her mother's uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Jack had reached the Lodge and made his request to Somers,
+the gamekeeper.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm main sorry, sir, but the missus thought as you would want her at
+eleven&mdash;as usual, so she started off early to get her marketing done
+first. I'll be sure and tell her to take her things up for the night as
+soon as she gets home."</p>
+
+<p>"Ten o'clock! No Mrs. Somers yet!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Cheriton picked up her little daughter and carried her upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll make the beds, Mollie, you and I," she said, tossing the little
+maid into the middle of the shaken-up feather bed.</p>
+
+<p>This was fine fun, and Mollie begged for a repetition of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Hark! That must be Mrs. Somers," as a footstep sounded on the gravel
+path.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right, Mrs. Somers, I am glad you have come," called Millicent,
+but as she heard no reply, she thought she had been mistaken, and
+finished making the bed, then tying a sun-bonnet over Mollie's golden
+curls, took her downstairs, intending to take her into the garden to
+play.</p>
+
+<p>What was it that came over Millicent as she reached the hall? Again that
+strange uneasiness, and a feeling that some third person was near her.
+She grasped Mollie's hand more firmly, with an impatient exclamation to
+herself, for what she thought was silly nervousness, and walked into the
+dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>There, in the large armchair, lately occupied by her husband, sat a
+tall, gentlemanly looking man.</p>
+
+<p>He had already removed his hat, and was about to unlock a brown leather
+bag, which he held on his knee. He rose and bowed as Mrs. Cheriton
+entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I must apologise for intruding upon you, madam, but I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> do so in the
+cause of science, so I am sure you will pardon me."</p>
+
+<p>The words were fair enough, but something in the manner made Millicent's
+heart seem to stand still. Something also told her that she must not
+show her fear.</p>
+
+<p>"May I know to whom I am speaking?" she said, "and in what branch of
+science you take a special interest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, madam. My name is Wharton. I am a surgeon, and am greatly
+interested in vivisection."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!" said Millicent, summoning all her presence of mind, for as he
+spoke his manner grew more excitable, and he began to open his bag.</p>
+
+<p>"I called here," he said, "to make known a new discovery, which,
+however, I should like to demonstrate," and he fixed his restless eye on
+little Mollie, who was clinging shyly to her mother's gown.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure it is very kind of you to take an interest in us&mdash;but it is
+so early, perhaps you have not breakfasted? May I get you some
+breakfast?"</p>
+
+<p>Would Mrs. Somers never come? and if she did, what could she do? for by
+this time Millicent had no doubt that she was talking to a madman.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, I do not need any," replied her visitor, as he began to take
+from his bag all kinds of terrible looking surgical instruments, and
+laid them on the table.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the terror within her, Millicent tried to turn his attention
+from his bag, speaking of all kinds of general subjects as fast as they
+came to her mind, but though he answered her politely, it was with
+evident irritation, and he seemed to get more excitable every minute.</p>
+
+<p>"This will never do," she thought, "I must humour him," and with sinking
+heart she ventured on her next question.</p>
+
+<p>"What is this wonderful discovery, Mr. Wharton? if I may ask."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, madam. It is a permanent cure for deafness."</p>
+
+<p>Millicent began to breathe more freely as the thought passed through her
+mind "then it can't affect Mollie," for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> she forgot for a moment that
+her guest was not a sane man. Again his eye rested on Mollie, and he
+rose from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"The cure is a certain one," he said, "the right ear must be amputated,
+and the passages thoroughly scraped, but I will show you," and he took a
+step towards Mollie.</p>
+
+<p>Millicent's face blanched.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mollie is not deaf," she said; "it will hardly do to operate on
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"It will prevent her ever becoming so, madam, and prevention is better
+than cure," and he stepped back to the table to select an instrument.</p>
+
+<p>The mother's presence of mind did not desert her&mdash;though her legs
+trembled so violently that she feared her visitor would see her terror.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be a very good thing to feel sure of that," she said. "You
+will want a firm table, of course, and good light. You might be
+interrupted here. I will show you a better room for the operation."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, madam, and I shall require plenty of hot water and towels."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Millicent, and leading him to the hall, she directed
+him to a room which had at one time been fitted as a laundry, and in
+which was an ironing bench.</p>
+
+<p>With sinking heart, she followed him to the top of the house&mdash;pointing
+the way through two attics into a third.</p>
+
+<p>"I will just leave you to arrange your things while I get hot water and
+towels, and put on Mollie's nightdress," she said, and closing the door,
+turned the key. It grated noisily, but the visitor was too much occupied
+to notice it, and rushing through the other rooms, Millicent locked both
+doors, and fled downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Snatching her little one in her arms, she hurried through the
+garden&mdash;pausing at the gate to shift Mollie from her arms on to her
+back.</p>
+
+<p>She had barely left the gate when a horrible yell of baffled rage rent
+the air, making her turn and glance up at the window of the attic.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>The maniac had just discovered that the door was locked, and rushing to
+the window caught sight of his hostess and desired patient fleeing from
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>One glance showed Millicent that he was about to get out of the window,
+but whether he intended to clamber down by the ivy, or creep in at the
+next attic, she did not stop to ascertain; only praying that she might
+have strength to gain a place of safety she sped on, staggering under
+the weight of her little one, who clung to her neck in wonder.</p>
+
+<p>On and on, still with the wild yells of rage ringing in her ears, until
+she had put three fields between herself and the house, when she stopped
+for breath in a shady lane.</p>
+
+<p>Hark! Surely it was the sound of wheels coming towards her. "Help! oh,
+help!" she shouted. "Help! help! help!"</p>
+
+<p>In another moment a brougham, drawn by two horses, appeared, coming
+slowly up the hill towards her.</p>
+
+<p>The coachman at a word from his master drew up, and Millicent, now
+nearly fainting from terror and exhaustion, was helped into the
+carriage.</p>
+
+<p>Giving directions to the coachman to drive home as quickly as possible,
+Dr. Shielding, for it was the medical superintendent of the Lunatic
+Asylum, the long building already referred to, drew from her between
+sobs and gasps the story of her fright.</p>
+
+<p>At length they drew up before the doctor's house, in the grounds of the
+asylum, and with a hasty word of introduction, Dr. Shielding left
+Millicent and Mollie with his wife and daughter.</p>
+
+<p>Summoning two burly-looking keepers, he stepped into his brougham again.</p>
+
+<p>"To the Priory," he said, and then related the story to the men,
+describing the position of the attic as told him by Millicent, adding
+that he had just returned from a distant village, where he had been
+called for consultation about a case of rapidly developed homicidal
+mania of a local medical man, but the patient had eluded his caretaker,
+the previous day, and could not be found.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>"I have no doubt it is the same man," he said, "and there he is!" he
+added, as they stopped before the Priory gate, to find the strange
+visitor was trying to descend from the window by the ivy.</p>
+
+<p>There he clung, bag in hand, still five-and-twenty feet from the ground.
+When hearing their voices, he turned to look at them, and in so doing
+lost his hold, falling heavily to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>They hastened to the spot, just in time to see a spasmodic quiver of the
+limbs as he drew his last breath. He had struck his head violently
+against a huge stone and broken his neck.</p>
+
+<p>The body was removed to the mortuary of the asylum, with all speed, and
+the relatives of the poor man telegraphed for, and when Dr. Shielding
+returned home he found that his wife had insisted upon keeping Mollie
+and Millicent as their guests until Jack's return, to which arrangement
+he heartily assented.</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>Jack's face blanched as he read a paragraph describing the adventure in
+his morning paper the following day, and when his letters were brought
+in, he hastily broke the seal of one in his wife's handwriting, and read
+the story in her own words, finishing with, "Oh, Jack, dear, I never,
+never can go back there again; do come and fetch us home."</p>
+
+<p>They never did return to the Priory, for on his way to the station, Jack
+put it into the hands of an agent for sale, and when he reached
+Beechcroft, he begged Mrs. Somers to go and pack up all their personal
+belongings and send them back to Town.</p>
+
+<p>It was with feelings of deep thankfulness that he clasped his wife and
+little one in his arms once more, inwardly vowing that come what might,
+he would never again leave them without protection, even for an hour.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_THIRD_PERSON_SINGULAR" id="THE_THIRD_PERSON_SINGULAR"></a>THE THIRD PERSON SINGULAR.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY LUCY HARDY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"You remember the old coaching days, granny?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I do," replied the old lady, with a smile, "for one of the
+strangest adventures of my life befell me on my first stage-coach
+journey. Yes, you girls shall hear the story; I am getting into my
+'anecdotage,' as Horace Walpole calls it," and granny laughed with the
+secret consciousness that her "anecdotes" were always sure of an
+appreciative audience.</p>
+
+<p>"People did not run about hither and thither in my young days as you
+girls do now," went on the old lady, "and it was quite an event to take
+a coach journey. In fact, when I started on my first one, I was nearly
+twenty years old; and my father and mother had then debated a good while
+as to whether I could be permitted to travel alone by the stage. My
+father was a country parson, as you know, and we lived in a very remote
+Yorkshire village. But an aunt, who was rich and childless, had lately
+taken up her residence at York, and had written so urgently to beg that
+I might be allowed to spend the winter with her, and thus cheer her
+loneliness, that it was decided that I must accept the invitation. It
+was the custom then for many of the local country gentry to visit the
+great provincial towns for their 'seasons' instead of undertaking the
+long journey to the metropolis. York, and many another country town, is
+still full of the fine old 'town houses' of the local gentry, who now go
+to London to 'bring out' their young daughters; but who, in the former<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>
+days, were content with the gaieties offered by their own provincial
+capital. Very lively and pleasant were the 'seasons' of the country
+towns in my youth; and I think there was more real hospitality and
+sociability found among the country neighbours than one meets with in
+London society nowadays. I, of course, was delighted at the prospect of
+exchanging the dull life of our little village for the gaieties of York;
+but when it actually came to saying good-bye to my parents, from whom I
+had never yet been separated, I was half inclined to wish that Aunt
+Maria's invitation had been refused. Farmer Gray, who was to drive me to
+the neighbouring town, where I should join the coach, was very kind; and
+pretended not to see how I was crying under my veil. We lumbered along
+the narrow lanes and at length reached the little market town where I
+was deposited at the 'Blue Boar' to have some tea and await the arrival
+of the mail. I had often watched the coach dash up, and off again, when
+visiting the town with my father; but it seemed like a dream that I,
+Dolly Harcourt, was now actually to be a passenger in the conveyance.
+The dusk of a winter's evening was gathering as the mail came in sight,
+its red lamps gleaming through the mist. Ostlers prided themselves upon
+the celerity with which the change of horses was effected, and
+passengers were expected to be equally quick; I was bustled inside (my
+place had been taken days previously) before I had time to think twice.
+Fortunately, as I thought, remembering the long night journey which lay
+before me, I found the interior of the coach empty, several passengers
+having just alighted; but, as I settled myself in one corner, two
+figures hurried up, a short man, and a woman in a long cloak and
+poke-bonnet, with a thick veil over her face.</p>
+
+<p>"'Just in time,' cried the man. 'Yes, I've booked two places, Mr. Jones
+and Miss Jenny,' and the pair stumbled in just as the impatient horses
+started.</p>
+
+<p>"'Miss Jenny.' Well, I was glad that I was not to have a long night
+journey alone with a strange man. I glanced at the cloaked and veiled
+figure which sank awkwardly into the opposite corner of the vehicle, and
+then leaned forward to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> remove some of my little packages from the seat;
+in so doing I brushed against her bonnet.</p>
+
+<p>"'I beg your pardon, madam,' I said politely; 'I was removing these
+parcels, fearing they might incommode you.'</p>
+
+<p>"'All right, all right, miss,' said the man, a red-faced, vulgar-looking
+personage; 'don't you trouble about Jenny, she'll do very well;' and he
+proceeded to settle his companion in the corner rather unceremoniously.</p>
+
+<p>"'Is she his sister or his wife, I wonder,' I thought; 'he does not seem
+particularly courteous to her;' and I took a dislike to my
+fellow-passenger on the spot. He, however, was happily indifferent to my
+good or evil opinion; pulling a cap from his pocket, he exchanged his
+hat for it, settled himself comfortably by his companion's side, and, in
+a few moments, was sound asleep, as his snores proclaimed. I could not
+follow his example. I felt terribly lonely, and not a little nervous. As
+we sped along at what appeared to my inexperience such a break-neck rate
+(ten miles an hour seemed so <i>then</i>, before railways whirled you along
+like lightning), I began to recall all the dismal stories of coach
+accidents, and of highwaymen, which I had read or heard of during my
+quiet village existence. Suppose, on this very moor which we were now
+crossing, a highwayman rode up and popped a pistol in at the window. I
+myself had not much to lose, though I should have been extremely
+reluctant to part with the new silk purse which my mother had netted for
+me, and in which she and father had each placed a guinea&mdash;coins not too
+plentiful in our country vicarage in those days. And suppose the
+highwayman was not satisfied with mere robbery, but should oblige me to
+alight and dance a minuet with him on the heath, as did Claud Duval;
+suppose&mdash;here my nervous fears took a fresh turn, for the cloaked lady
+opposite began to move restlessly, and the man, half waking, gave her a
+brisk nudge with his elbow and cried sharply,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'Now, then, keep quiet, I say.'</p>
+
+<p>"This was a strange manner in which to address a lady. Could this man be
+sober, I thought, and a shiver ran through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> me at the idea of being
+doomed to spend so many hours in company with a possibly intoxicated,
+and certainly surly man. How rudely he addressed his companion, how
+little he seemed to care for her comfort! As I looked more carefully at
+the pair (the rising moon now giving me sufficient light to do this) I
+noted that the man's hand was slipped under the woman's cloak, and that
+he was apparently holding her down in her seat by her wrist. A fresh
+terror now assailed me&mdash;was I travelling with a lunatic and her keeper?
+I vainly tried to obtain a glimpse of the woman's countenance, so
+shrouded by her poke-bonnet and thick veil.</p>
+
+<p>"The man was speedily snoring again, and I sat with my eyes fixed on the
+cloaked figure, wondering&mdash;speculating. Poor thing, was she indeed a
+lunatic travelling in charge of this rough attendant? Pity filled my
+heart as I thought of this afflicted creature, possibly torn from home
+and friends and sent away with a surly guardian; who, I now felt <i>sure</i>,
+was not too sober. Was the woman old or young, of humble rank or a lady?
+I began to weave a dozen romantic stories in my head about my
+fellow-passengers, quite forgetting all my recent fears about the
+'knights of the road.' So sorry did I feel for the woman that I leant
+across and addressed some trivial, polite remark to her, but received no
+reply. I gently touched her cloak to draw her attention, but the lady's
+temper seemed as testy as that of her companion; she abruptly twisted
+away from my touch with some inarticulate, but evidently angry
+exclamation, which sounded almost like a growl. I shrank back abashed
+into my corner and attempted no more civilities. Would the coach never
+reach York and I be freed from the presence of these mysterious
+fellow-passengers? I was but a timid little country lass, and this was
+my first flight from home. It was certainly not a pleasant idea to
+believe oneself shut up for several hours with a half-tipsy man and a
+lunatic; as I now firmly believed the woman to be. I sat very still,
+fearing to annoy her by any chance movement, but my addressing her had
+evidently disturbed her, for she began to move restlessly, and to make a
+kind of muttering to herself. I gradually edged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> away towards the other
+end of the seat, so as to leave as much space between myself and the
+lady as possible, and in so doing let my shawl fall to the floor of the
+coach. I stooped to pick it up, and there beheld, protruding from my
+fellow-passenger's cloak, <i>her foot</i>. Oh horrors! I saw no woman's
+dainty shoe&mdash;but a hairy paw, with long nails&mdash;was it <i>cloven</i>?</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>"The frantic shriek I gave stopped the coach, and the guard and the
+outside passengers were round the door in a moment. For the first time
+in my life I had fainted&mdash;so missed the first excited turmoil&mdash;but soon
+revived to find myself lying on the moor, the centre of a kindly group
+of fellow-travellers, who were proffering essences, and brandy, and all
+other approved restoratives; while in the background, like distant
+thunder, were heard the adjurations of the guard and the coachman, who
+were swearing like troopers at the other&mdash;or rather at the <i>male</i>,
+inside passenger. Struggling into a sitting position, I beheld this man,
+sobered now by the shock of my alarm, and by the vials of wrath which
+were being emptied upon him, standing in a submissive attitude, while
+beside him, her cloak thrown back and her poke-bonnet thrust on one
+side, was the mysterious 'lady'&mdash;now revealed in her true character as a
+<i>performing bear</i>. It seemed that a showman, desirous of conveying this
+animal (which he described as 'quiet as an hangel') with the least
+trouble and expense to himself, bethought him of the expedient of
+booking places in the coach for himself and the bear, which bore the
+name of 'Miss Jenny'; trusting to her wraps and to the darkness to
+disguise the creature sufficiently. I will not repeat the language of
+the guard and coachman on discovering the trick played; but after
+direful threats as to what the showman might 'expect' as the result of
+his device, matters were amicably arranged. The owner of the bear made
+most abject apologies all round (I fancy giving more than <i>civil words</i>
+to the coach officials), I interceded for him, and the mail set off at
+double speed to make up for lost time. Only, with my knowledge of 'Miss
+Jenny's' real identity, I absolutely declined to occupy the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> interior of
+the coach again despite the showman's assertions of his pet's
+harmlessness; and the old coachman sympathising with me, I was helped up
+to a place by his side on the box, and carefully wrapped up in a huge
+military cloak by a young gentleman who occupied the next seat, and who
+was, as he told me, an officer rejoining his regiment at York. The
+latter part of my journey was far pleasanter than the beginning; the
+coachman was full of amusing anecdotes, and the young officer made
+himself most agreeable. It transpired, in course of conversation, that
+my fellow-traveller was slightly acquainted with Aunt Maria; and this
+acquaintanceship induced him to request that he might be permitted to
+escort me to her house and see me safe after my disagreeable adventure.
+I had no objection to his accompanying myself and the staid maidservant
+whom I found waiting for me at the inn when the coach stopped at York;
+and Aunt Maria politely insisted on the young man's remaining to partake
+of the early breakfast she had prepared to greet my arrival."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, your fright did not end so badly after all, granny," remarked one
+of her listeners.</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all badly," replied the old lady with a quiet smile; "but for my
+fright I should never have made the acquaintance of that young officer."</p>
+
+<p>"And the officer was&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He was <i>Captain</i> Marten then, my dears&mdash;he became <i>General</i> Marten
+afterwards&mdash;and was <i>your grandfather</i>."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="HOW_JACK_MINDED_THE_BABY" id="HOW_JACK_MINDED_THE_BABY"></a>"HOW JACK MINDED THE BABY."</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY DOROTHY PINHO.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The <i>Etruria</i> was on its way to New York. The voyage had been, so far,
+without accidents, or even incidents; the weather had been lovely; the
+sea, a magnificent stretch of blue, with a few miniature wavelets
+dancing in the sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>Amongst the passengers of the first-class saloon everybody noticed a
+slight girlish figure, always very simply attired; in spite of all her
+efforts to remain unnoticed, she seemed to attract attention by her
+great beauty. People whispered to each other, "Who is she?" All they
+knew was that her name was Mrs. Arthur West, and that she was going out
+to New York with her two babies to join her husband.</p>
+
+<p>Every morning she was on deck, or sometimes, if the sun was too fierce,
+in the saloon, and she made a charming picture reclining in her
+deck-chair, with baby Lily lying on her lap, and little Jack playing at
+her feet. Baby was only three or four months old; hardly anything more
+than a dainty heap of snowy silk and lace to anybody but her mother,
+who, of course, thought that nothing on earth could be as clever as the
+way she crowed and kicked out her absurd pink morsels of toes.</p>
+
+<p>Master Jack was quite an important personage; he was nearly four years
+old and very proud of the fact that this was his second voyage, while
+Lily had never been on a ship before, and, as he contemptuously
+remarked, "didn't even know who dada was." He was a quaint,
+old-fashioned little soul, and though he rather looked down upon his
+little sister<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> from the height of his dignity and his first
+knickerbockers, he would often look after her for his mother and pat her
+off to sleep quite cleverly.</p>
+
+<p>We must not forget to mention "Rover," a lovely retriever; he was quite
+of the family, fairly worshipped by his little master, and the pet of
+the whole ship. He looked upon baby Lily as his own special property,
+and no stranger dare approach if he were guarding her.</p>
+
+<p>On the afternoon my story opens baby Lily had been very cross and
+fretful; the intense heat evidently did not agree with her. Poor little
+Mrs. West was quite worn out with walking up and down with her trying to
+lull her off to sleep. Jack was lying flat on the floor, engrossed in
+the beauties of a large picture-book; two or three times he raised his
+curly head and shook it gravely. Then he said, "Isn't she a naughty
+baby, mummie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear," answered his mother, "and I'm afraid that if she doesn't
+soon get good, we shall have to put her right through the porthole. We
+don't want to take a naughty baby-girl to daddy, do we?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, mummie," answered Jack very earnestly, and he returned once more to
+his pictures.</p>
+
+<p>"There, she has gone off," whispered Mrs. West, after a few moments.
+"Now, Jackie, I am going to put her down, and you must look after her
+while I go and see if the stewardess has boiled the milk for the night.
+Play very quietly, like a good little boy, because I don't think she is
+very sound asleep." And, with a parting kiss on his little uplifted
+face, she slipped away.</p>
+
+<p>The stewardess was nowhere to be found; so Mrs. West boiled the milk
+herself, as she had often done before, and after about ten minutes,
+returned to her cabin.</p>
+
+<p>Little Jack was in a corner, busy with a drawing-slate; he turned round
+as his mother came in. The berth where she had put the baby down was
+empty.</p>
+
+<p>"Was baby naughty? Has the stewardess taken her?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span>"No, mummie; baby woke up d'rectly you went, an' she was so dreff'ly
+naughty&mdash;she just <i>wouldn't</i> go to sleep again; so I thought I'd better
+punish her, an' I put her, just this minute, through the porthole, like
+you said; but I dessay she'll be good now, and p'raps you'd
+better&mdash;&mdash;but what's the matter, mummie? Are you going to be seasick?"
+for his mother had turned deathly white, and was holding on to the wall
+for support.</p>
+
+<p>"My baby, my little one!" she gasped; then, pulling herself together
+with a sudden effort, she rushed towards the stairs; little Jack,
+bewildered, but suddenly overcome by a strange feeling of awe, following
+in the rear. As she reached the deck, she became aware that the liner
+had stopped; there was a great commotion among the passengers; she heard
+some one say, "Good dog! brave fellow!" and Rover, pushing his way
+between the excited people, brought to her feet a dripping, wailing
+bundle, which she strained to her heart, and fainted away.</p>
+
+<p>Need I narrate what had happened? When little Jack had "put naughty baby
+through the porthole," Rover was on deck with his two front paws up on
+the side of the vessel, watching intently some sea-gulls dipping in the
+waves. He suddenly saw the little white bundle touch the water; some
+marvellous instinct told him it was his little charge, and he gave a
+sudden leap over the side. A sailor of the crew saw him disappear, and
+gave the alarm: "Stop the ship! man overboard!"</p>
+
+<p>A boat was lowered, and in a few seconds Rover was on deck again,
+holding baby Lily fast between his jaws.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. West never left her children alone after that; and when, a few days
+later, on the quay at New York, she was clasped in her husband's arms,
+she told him, between her sobs, how near he had been to never seeing his
+little daughter.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="MY_GRANDMOTHERS_ADVENTURE" id="MY_GRANDMOTHERS_ADVENTURE"></a>MY GRANDMOTHER'S ADVENTURE.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A STORY FOUNDED ON FACT.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALFRED H. MILES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>My grandmother was one of the right sort. She was a fine old lady with
+all her faculties about her at eighty-six, and with a memory that could
+recall the stirring incidents of the earlier part of the century with a
+vividness which made them live again in our eager eyes and ears. She was
+born with the century and was nearly fifteen years old when Napoleon
+escaped from Elba, and the exciting circumstances that followed,
+occurring as they did at the most impressionable period of her life,
+became indelibly fixed upon her mind. She had relatives and friends who
+had distinguished themselves in the Peninsula war, in memory of one of
+whom, who fell in the last grand charge at Waterloo, she always wore a
+mourning ring.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not at Waterloo that my grandmother met with the adventure
+which it is now my business to chronicle. It was a real genuine
+adventure, however, and it befell her a year or so after the final fall
+of Napoleon, and in a quiet, secluded spot in the county of Wiltshire,
+England, not far from Salisbury Plain; but as I am quite sure I cannot
+improve upon the dear old lady's oft-repeated version of the story, I
+will try and tell it as it fell from those dear, worn lips now for ever
+silent in the grave.</p>
+
+<p>"I was in my sixteenth year when it was decided that, all fear of
+foreign invasion being over, I should be sent to London to complete my
+education and to receive those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> finishing touches in manners and
+deportment 'which a metropolis of wealth and fashion alone can give.'</p>
+
+<p>"Never having left home before, I looked forward to my journey with some
+feeling of excitement and not a little of foreboding and dread. I could
+not quite make up my mind whether I was really sorry or glad. The quiet
+home life to which I had been accustomed, varied only by occasional
+visits from the more old-fashioned of the local country families, made
+me long for the larger life, which I knew must belong to the biggest
+city in the world (life which I was simple enough to think I might see a
+great deal of even from the windows of a boarding-school), and made me
+look forward with joyful anticipation to my journey; while the fear of
+flying from the humdrum that I knew, to discipline I knew not of, made
+me temper my anticipations with misgivings and cloud my hopes with
+fears. To put the matter practically, I think I was generally glad when
+I got up in the morning and sorry when I went to bed at night.</p>
+
+<p>"My father's house stood about a hundred yards from the main road, some
+three miles west of Salisbury, and in order to take my passage for
+London, it was necessary that I should be driven into Salisbury in the
+family buggy to join the Exeter mail. I well remember the start. My
+carpet-bag and trunk had been locked and unlocked a great many times
+before they were finally signed, sealed, and delivered to the old
+man-servant who acted as gardener, coachman, and general factotum to our
+household, and when we started off my father placed a book in my hands,
+that I might have something with me to beguile the tedium of the
+journey. My father accompanied me as far as Salisbury to bespeak the
+care and attention of the guard on my behalf, but finding that the only
+other inside passenger was an old gentleman of whom he had some slight
+knowledge, he commended me to my fellow-passenger's protection, and with
+many admonitions as to my future conduct, left me to pursue the journey
+in his company.</p>
+
+<p>"I was feeling rather dull after my companion had exhausted the
+commonplaces of conversation, and experienced a strange<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> loneliness when
+I saw that he had fallen fast asleep in his comfortable corner enveloped
+in rugs and furs. Driven in upon my own resources I opened my book, and
+began to read, though the faint light of the coach lamp did not offer me
+much encouragement.</p>
+
+<p>"The volume was one of 'Travel and Adventure,' and told of the
+experiences of the writer even in the lion's mouth. It recounted
+numerous hair-breadth escapes from the tender mercies of savage animals,
+and described them with such thrilling detail that I soon became
+conscious of those creepy sensations which are so well calculated to
+make us take fright at the least unusual circumstance. I had just got to
+a part at which a wounded lion had struck down his intrepid hunter and
+was standing with one paw upon his breast roaring his defiance to the
+four winds of heaven, when suddenly the coach pulled up with a
+suddenness that threw me into the arms of my companion and somewhat
+unceremoniously aroused him from his slumber. The next moment the coach
+rolled back a few paces and the next plunged forward a few more.
+Meanwhile, the shouts and cries of the outside passengers and the
+rumbling and clambering on the roof of the coach made it clear that
+something terrible had happened. Naturally nervous, and rendered doubly
+so by the narrative I had been reading, I concluded that all Africa was
+upon us and that either natives or wild animals would soon eat us up. My
+companion was no less excited than I was, excitement that was in no way
+lessened by his sense of responsibility for my welfare, and perceiving a
+house close to the road but a few yards in the rear of the coach, he
+hurried me out of the vehicle with more speed than ceremony, and in
+another moment was almost dragging me towards the door. As we alighted,
+our speed was suddenly accelerated by the unmistakable roar of some wild
+beast which had apparently leapt out of the leaves of the book I had
+been reading and was attempting to illustrate the narrative which had so
+thrilled my imagination. There was no mistake about it now; some wild
+beast had attacked the coach, and I was already, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> thought, lying
+prostrate beneath his feet. The next thing that I remember was awakening
+in the presence of an eager and interested group gathered round a fire
+in the waiting-room of a village post-house.</p>
+
+<p>"Many versions of the story were current for years among the gossips of
+the country-side, and they differed very materially in the details of
+the narrative. One said it was a tiger which was being conveyed to the
+gardens of the Zoological Society in London, another that it was a
+performing bear which had suddenly gone mad and killed its keeper while
+on its way to Salisbury Fair. Of course the papers published various
+accounts of it, and the story with many variations found its way into
+several books. As you know, I was not an eye-witness of the
+circumstances any further than I have described them, so I am dependent
+upon others for the true account of the facts. The fullest account that
+I have seen in print appeared in a book I bought many years after the
+event, and now if you will get me my spectacles I will read you the
+remainder of the story from that volume.</p>
+
+<p>"'Not many years ago, a curious example of the ferocity of the lioness
+occurred in England. The Exeter mail-coach, on its way to London, was
+attacked on Sunday night, October 20th, 1816, at Winter's Law-Hut, seven
+miles from Salisbury, in a most extraordinary manner. At the moment when
+the coachman pulled up, to deliver his bags, one of the leading horses
+was suddenly seized by a ferocious animal. This produced a great
+confusion and alarm. Two passengers, who were inside the mail, got out,
+and ran in the house. The horse kicked and plunged violently; and it was
+with difficulty the coachman could prevent the carriage from being
+overturned. It was soon observed by the coachman and guard, by the light
+of the lamps, that the animal which had seized the horse was a huge
+lioness. A large mastiff dog came up and attacked her fiercely, on which
+she quitted the horse, and turned upon him. The dog fled, but was
+pursued and killed by the lioness, within about forty yards of the
+place. It appears that the beast had escaped from a caravan, which was
+standing on the roadside,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> and belonged to a menagerie, on its way to
+Salisbury Fair. An alarm being given, the keepers pursued and hunted the
+lioness, carrying the dog in her teeth, into a hovel under a granary,
+which served for keeping agricultural implements. About half-past eight,
+they had secured her effectually by barricading the place, so as to
+prevent her escape. The horse, when first attacked, fought with great
+spirit; and if he had been at liberty, would probably have beaten down
+his antagonist with his fore-feet; but in plunging, he embarrassed
+himself in the harness. The lioness, it appears, attacked him in front,
+and springing at his throat, had fastened the talons of her fore-feet on
+each side of his gullet, close to the head, while the talons of her
+hind-feet were forced into the chest. In this situation she hung, while
+the blood was seen streaming, as if a vein had been opened by a lancet.
+The furious animal missed the throat and jugular vein; but the horse was
+so dreadfully torn, that he was not at first expected to survive. The
+expressions of agony, in his tears and moans, were most piteous and
+affecting. Whether the lioness was afraid of her prey being taken from
+her, or from some other cause, she continued a considerable time after
+she had entered the hovel roaring in a dreadful manner, so loud, indeed,
+that she was distinctly heard at the distance of half a mile. She was
+eventually secured, and taken to her den; and the proprietor of the
+menagerie did not fail to take advantage of the incident, by having a
+representation of the attack painted in the most captivating colours and
+hung up in front of his establishment.'"</p>
+
+<p>My dear old grandmother quite expected to see "the lions" when she
+reached London, but she was not quite prepared to meet a lioness even
+half way.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="A_TERRIBLE_CHRISTMAS_EVE" id="A_TERRIBLE_CHRISTMAS_EVE"></a>A TERRIBLE CHRISTMAS EVE.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I was always a very fearless girl. I do not say I never knew what fear
+was, for on the occasion I am about to relate I was distinctly
+frightened; but I was able to bear myself through it as if I felt
+nothing, and by this means to reassure my poor mother, who perhaps
+realised the danger more thoroughly than I did.</p>
+
+<p>Norah says if it had happened to her she would just have died of fright,
+and I do think she would have, for she is so delicate and timid, and has
+such very highly-strung nerves. Mother and I always call it our
+adventure. I, with a laugh now; but mother, always with a shudder and a
+paling of her sweet face, for she and Norah are very much alike in
+constitution. She says if I had not been her stay and backbone on that
+occasion she must surely have let those awful French people rob her of
+all she possessed. But I am going on too fast.</p>
+
+<p>It happened in this way. Father had some business to transact in France
+in connection with his firm, and had gone off in high spirits, for after
+the business was finished and done with he had arranged to do a little
+travelling on his own account with Mr. Westover&mdash;an old chum of his.</p>
+
+<p>We had heard regularly from him as having a very good time till one
+morning the post brought a letter to say he had contracted a low fever
+and was lying sick at a wayside inn. He begged us not to be alarmed for
+his friend was very attentive, and he hoped soon to be himself again.
+Mother was unhappy, we saw that, but Norah and I tried to cheer her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> up
+by saying how strong father always was, and how soon he shook off any
+little illness. It was his being sick away from home and in a foreign
+country that troubled her.</p>
+
+<p>A few days after a telegram arrived from Mr. Westover. He said mother
+must come at once, for the doctor had serious misgivings as to the turn
+the fever might take.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, you must take Phyllis with you," decided Norah, who was
+trembling from head to foot, but trying to appear calm for mother's
+sake.</p>
+
+<p>I looked up at mother with eager eyes, for though the thought of dear
+father lying dangerously ill chilled me all over, yet the idea of
+travelling to France made my heart leap within me.</p>
+
+<p>Mother was packing a handbag when Norah spoke. She looked up and saw my
+eyes round with delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, "I would prefer a companion. Phyllis, get ready at
+once, for we haven't much time."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice sounded as if tears were in it, and I sprang up and kissed her
+before rushing away to my room.</p>
+
+<p>My little bag was packed before mother's, but then she had money
+arrangements to make which I had not.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours after the receipt of the telegram we were driving down the
+road to the railway station two miles from our home.</p>
+
+<p>Our journey was of no moment at first starting. We crossed the water
+without any mishap, and on arriving at Dunkirk bore the Custom-house
+officers' searching of our handbags with a stoical calmness. What
+mattered such trifles when our one thought, our one hope lay in the
+direction of that wayside inn where father lay tossing in delirium?</p>
+
+<p>We spent one night at an hotel, and the next morning, which was
+Christmas Eve, we were up early to catch the first express to Brives.
+From Brives to Fleur another train would take us, and the rest of our
+journey would have to be accomplished by <i>diligence</i>.</p>
+
+<p>It was cold, bitterly cold, and I saw mother's eyes look apprehensively
+up to the leaden sky. I knew she was fearing a heavy fall of snow which
+might interrupt our journey.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>We reached Fleur at three o'clock in the afternoon, and took the
+<i>diligence</i> that was awaiting the train. Then what mother feared took
+place. Snow began to fall&mdash;heavy snow, and the horses in the <i>diligence</i>
+began to labour after only one hour's storm. Mother's face grew paler
+and paler. I did not dare to look at her, or to think what we should do
+if the snow prevented us getting much farther. And father! what would
+father do! After two hours' weary drive we sighted the first stopping
+place.</p>
+
+<p>"There is the inn!" said a portly fellow-traveller. "And a good thing,
+too, that we'll have a roof over our heads, for there will be no driving
+farther for some days to come."</p>
+
+<p>"We must make a jovial Christmas party by ourselves," said another old
+gentleman, gathering all his belongings together in preparation for
+getting out.</p>
+
+<p>I looked at mother. Her face was blanched.</p>
+
+<p>"But surely," she said, "this snow won't prevent the second <i>diligence</i>
+taking my daughter and myself to the <i>Pomme d'Or</i> at Creux? It is only a
+matter of an hour from here."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll get no <i>diligence</i> either to-day or to-morrow, madame," was the
+answer she received.</p>
+
+<p>The inn was reached&mdash;a funny little old-fashioned place&mdash;and we all
+descended ankle deep into the newly-fallen snow.</p>
+
+<p>The landlord of the inn was waiting at the door, and invited us all in
+with true French courtesy. The cosy kitchen we entered had a lovely wood
+fire in the old-fashioned grate, and the dancing flames cast a cheery
+light upon the whitewashed walls. Oh, if only this had been the inn
+where father was staying! How gladly we would have rested our weary
+limbs and revelled in that glorious firelight. But it was not to be.</p>
+
+<p>Mother's idea of another <i>diligence</i> was quite pooh-poohed.</p>
+
+<p>"If it had been coming it would have been here before now," announced
+the landlord.</p>
+
+<p>"Then we must walk it," returned my mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible," was the landlord's answer, and the portly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> old gentleman
+seconded him. "It is a matter of five miles from here."</p>
+
+<p>"If I wish to see my husband alive I must walk it," said my mother in
+tremulous tones.</p>
+
+<p>There was a murmur of commiseration, and the landlord, a kindly, genial
+old Frenchman, trotted to the door of the inn and looked out. He came
+back presently, rubbing his cold hands.</p>
+
+<p>"The snow has ceased, the stars are coming out. If Madame insists&mdash;&mdash;"
+he shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall walk it if you will kindly direct us the way."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke my mother picked up her handbag, and I stooped for mine,
+but was arrested by a deep voice saying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I am going part of the way. If madame will allow me I will walk with
+her."</p>
+
+<p>I saw the landlord's open brow contract, and I turned to look at the
+speaker. He was a tall, dark, low-browed man, with shaggy black hair and
+deep-set eyes. He had been sitting there on our arrival, and I had not
+liked his appearance at first sight. I now hoped that mother would not
+accept his company. But mother, too intent on getting to her journey's
+end, jumped at the offer.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Merci, monsieur</i>," she said gratefully. "We will start at once if you
+have no objection."</p>
+
+<p>The fellow got on his feet at once, and stretching out his hand took a
+slouched hat off the chair behind him and clapped it on his head. I did
+see mother give him one furtive look then&mdash;it gave him such a
+brigand-like appearance, but she resolutely turned away, and thanked the
+landlord for the short shelter he had afforded us. She was producing her
+purse, but the landlord, with a hasty glance in the direction of our
+escort, motioned her to put it away. He and the two gentlemen came to
+see us start, the landlord causing me some little comfort by calling
+after us that he would make inquiries as soon as he was able, as to
+whether we had reached our destination in safety.</p>
+
+<p>Our escort started ahead of us, and we followed close on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> his footsteps.
+We had journeyed so for two miles, plodding heavily and slowly along,
+for the snow was deep and the wind was cutting. Our companion never once
+spoke, and would only look occasionally over his shoulder to see if we
+were keeping up with him, and I was beginning to lose my fear of him and
+call myself a coward for being afraid, when suddenly the snow began
+again. This time it came down in whirling drifts penetrating through all
+our warm clothing, and making our walking heavier and more laboured than
+before. It was all we could do to keep our feet, for the wind whistled
+and moaned, threatening at every turn to bear us away.</p>
+
+<p>Then only did our companion speak.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>C'est mauvais</i>," he shouted above the storm, and his voice, sounding
+so gruff and deep and so unexpected, made me jump in the air.</p>
+
+<p>Mother assented in her gentle voice, and we plodded on as before, I
+wishing with all my heart that we had never left that cosy kitchen, for
+I could not see how we were to cover another three miles in this
+fashion. I said not a word, however, for I would not have gainsaid
+mother in this journey, considering how much there was at stake.</p>
+
+<p>It was she herself who came to a standstill after walking another half
+mile.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur," she called faintly, "I do not think I can go farther."</p>
+
+<p>He turned round then and, was it my fancy? but I thought, as he retraced
+his steps to our side, that an evil grin was making his ugly face still
+uglier.</p>
+
+<p>"Madame is tired. I am not surprised, but if she can manage just five
+minutes' more walk we shall reach my own house, where she can have
+shelter."</p>
+
+<p>Mother was grateful for his offer. She thanked him and continued her
+weary walk till a sudden bend in the road brought us almost upon a small
+house situated right on the road, looking dark and gloomy enough, with
+just one solitary light shining dimly through the darkness.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>The fellow paused here with his hand on the latch, and I noticed a small
+sign-board swaying and creaking in the wind just above our heads. This
+then was an inn too? Why then had the landlord of that other inn cast
+such suspicious glances at the proposal of this man?</p>
+
+<p>Such questions were answerable only the next morning, for just now I was
+too weary to care where I spent the night as I stumbled after mother
+into a dark passage, and then onwards to a room where the faint light
+had been dimly discernible from outside.</p>
+
+<p>In that room there was an ugly old woman&mdash;bent and aged&mdash;cooking
+something over a small fire; and crouched upon a low seat near the stove
+sat a hunchbacked man, swarthy, black-haired, and ugly too. My heart
+gave one leap, and then sank down into my shoes. What kind of a house
+had we come into to spend a whole night?</p>
+
+<p>Our escort said something rapidly in French&mdash;too rapidly for me to
+follow, and then motioned us to sit down as he placed two wooden chairs
+for us. Mother sank down, almost too wearied to return the greeting
+which the old hag by the fire accorded her.</p>
+
+<p>The hunchback eyed us without a word, but when I summoned up courage to
+occasionally glance in his direction I fancied that a sinister smile
+crossed his face, making him look curiously like our escort.</p>
+
+<p>Two bowls of soup were put down before us, and the old woman hospitably
+pressed us to partake of it. The whole family sat down to the same meal,
+but the hunchback had his in his seat by the fire. It was cabbage soup,
+and neither mother nor I fancied it very much, but for politeness' sake
+we took a few spoonfuls, and ate some of the coarse brown bread, of
+which there was plenty on the table.</p>
+
+<p>The warmth of the room was beginning to have effect on me, and my body
+was so inexpressibly weary that I felt half dozing in my seat, and my
+eyelids would close in spite of myself.</p>
+
+<p>All of a sudden I heard mother give a little scream. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> was wide awake
+in an instant, and to my amazement saw the hunchback crawling on his
+hands and knees under the table. My mother's lips were white and
+trembling as she stooped to pick up the purse she had let fall in her
+fright, but before she could do so our escort stooped down and handed it
+to her with a&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Permettez moi, madame.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>At the same time he kicked out under the table, muttering an oath as he
+did so, and the hunchback returned to his seat by the fire and nursed
+his knees with his sinister grin.</p>
+
+<p>Mother began to apologise for her little scream.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very tired," she said, addressing the old woman; "and if it will
+not inconvenience you, my daughter and I would much like to retire for
+the night, as we wish to be up early to continue our journey."</p>
+
+<p>The old woman lighted a candle, looking at our escort as she did so.</p>
+
+<p>"Which room?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>He gave a jerk of his head indicating a room above the one we were in;
+and then he opened the door very politely for us, and hoped we'd have a
+pleasant night.</p>
+
+<p>I could not resist the inclination to look back at the hunchback. He had
+left off nursing his knees, but his whole body was convulsed with silent
+laughter, and he was holding up close to his eyes a gold coin.</p>
+
+<p>The room the old woman conducted us to was a long one, with half-a-dozen
+steps leading up to it. She bade us good night and closed the door,
+leaving us with the lighted candle.</p>
+
+<p>The minute the door closed upon her, I darted to it. But horrors! there
+was no key, no bolt, nothing to fasten ourselves in. I looked at mother.
+She was sitting on the bed, and beckoned me with her finger to come
+close. I did so. She whispered,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Phyllis, be brave for my sake. I have done a foolish thing in bringing
+you to this house. I distrust these people."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I," I whispered back.</p>
+
+<p>"That purse of mine that fell&mdash;they saw what was in it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span>"Did it fall open?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and a napoleon rolled out&mdash;that hunchback picked it up and put it
+into his pocket. He did not think I saw him."</p>
+
+<p>"How much money have you got altogether?"</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty napoleons, and a few francs."</p>
+
+<p>"And they saw all that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid so. Of course they could not tell how much there was. They
+saw a number of coins. If they attempt to rob us of it all to-night we
+shall have nothing to continue our journey to-morrow. And how we can
+keep it from them I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>Mother's face was white and drawn. Father and Norah would not have
+recognised her.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall hide it from them," I answered as bravely as I could. I would
+not let mother see that I was nervous.</p>
+
+<p>The room was bare of everything but just the necessary furniture. A more
+difficult place to hide anything could not easily be found. Every
+article of ours would be ransacked, I felt sure. Our handbags would be
+searched; our clothes ditto. Where on earth could we put that purse?</p>
+
+<p>I was sitting on the bed as I looked round the room. We would, of
+course, be lying in the bed when they came to search the room, and even
+our pillows would not be safe from their touch. Stay! What did the bed
+clothes consist of? A hasty examination disclosed two blankets and a
+sheet, and under those the mattress. That mattress gave me an idea. I
+had found a hiding-place.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you scissors and needle and cotton in your bag?" I whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Mother nodded. "I think Norah put my sewing case in."</p>
+
+<p>She opened it. Yes, everything was to hand.</p>
+
+<p>With her help I turned the mattress right up, and made an incision in
+the middle of the ticking.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me the money," I said in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>She handed it silently. I slipped each coin carefully into the incision.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll leave them the francs," mother whispered. "They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> might ... they
+might ... wish to harm us if they found nothing."</p>
+
+<p>I nodded. Then with the aid of the needle and cotton I stitched up the
+opening I had made, and without more ado we took off our outer clothes,
+our boots and stockings, and lay down in the bed.</p>
+
+<p>But not to sleep! We neither of us closed an eyelid, so alert were we
+for the expected footstep on the other side of the door.</p>
+
+<p>They gave us a reasonable time to go to sleep. Our extinguished candle
+told them we were in bed. Near about twelve o'clock our strained hearing
+detected the sound of a slight fumbling at the door. It opened, and the
+moonlight streaming in through the uncurtained windows showed us,
+through our half-shut eyelids, the figures of our escort and the
+hunchback. They moved like cats about the room. It struck me even then
+that they were used to these midnight searches.</p>
+
+<p>A thrill of fear went through me as the hunchback passed the bed, but a
+dogged persistency was with me still that they should not have our
+money. Our handbags were taken out of the room, doubtless to be examined
+at leisure by the old woman, and mulct of anything valuable. We heard a
+slight clink of money which meant the purse was emptied. Our clothes
+were shaken and examined, even our boots were looked into.</p>
+
+<p>Lastly they came to the bed. My eyes were glued then to my cheeks, and
+mother's must have been so as well. I could not see what they did, but I
+could feel them. They were practised though in their handling of our
+pillows, for had I been really asleep I should never have felt anything.</p>
+
+<p>They looked everywhere, they felt everywhere, everywhere but in the
+right place, and then with a hardly-concealed murmur of dissatisfaction
+they went from the room, closing the door after them. Mother and I lay
+quiet. The only thing we did was to hold one another's hands under the
+bed-clothes, and to press our shoulders close together.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span>Only once again did the door open, and that was to admit our escort, who
+had brought back our handbags.</p>
+
+<p>And then the door closed for good and all, but we never said a word all
+the long night through, though each knew and felt that the other was
+awake. The grey dawn stealing in saw us with eyes strained and wide, and
+we turned and looked at each other, and mother kissed me. It was
+Christmas Day.</p>
+
+<p>Our hearts were braver with the daylight, and what was joy unspeakable
+was to see the snow melting fast away under the heavy thaw that had set
+in during the early hours of the dawn. Our journey could be pursued
+without much difficulty, for if need be we could walk every step of the
+way.</p>
+
+<p>When it was quite light we got up and dressed. I undid my stitching of
+the night before, gave mother back the gold safe and intact, and then
+sewed up the incision as neatly as I could.</p>
+
+<p>We went down hatted and cloaked to the room we had supped in the night
+before. It presented no change. Over the fire the old woman bent,
+stirring something in a saucepan; our escort was seated at the table,
+and by the stove sat the hunchback nursing his knees&mdash;with only one
+difference,&mdash;there was no grin upon his face. He looked like a man
+thwarted.</p>
+
+<p>We had just bade them good morning and the old woman was asking us how
+we had slept, when the noise of wheels and horses' feet sounded outside.
+It was the second <i>diligence</i>. The landlord of the inn had told the
+conductor to call and see if we had been forced to take refuge in our
+escort's house. The jovial conductor was beaming all over as he stamped
+his wet feet on the stone floor of the kitchen, laughing at the
+miraculous disappearance of all the snow. His very presence seemed to
+put new life into us.</p>
+
+<p>"And what am I indebted to you," asked mother, "for the kindly shelter
+you have afforded us?"</p>
+
+<p>Our escort shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever madame wishes," was his
+reply.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>So mother placed a napoleon upon the table. It was too much, I always
+maintained, after all the francs they had robbed from the purse, and the
+gold piece the hunchback had picked up, but it was the smallest coin
+mother had, and she told me afterwards she didn't grudge it, for our
+lives had been spared us as well as the bulk of our money.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>diligence</i> rattled briskly along, and we reached the <i>Pomme d'Or</i>
+to find that father's illness had taken a favourable turn during that
+terrible night, and the only thing he needed now was care and good
+nursing. When he was well again he reported our experiences to the
+police, and we had good reason to believe that no credulous wayfarer
+ever had to undergo the terrible ordeal that we did that night. The
+house was ever after kept under strict police surveillance.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="A_NIGHT_OF_HORROR" id="A_NIGHT_OF_HORROR"></a>A NIGHT OF HORROR.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALFRED H. MILES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The jaguar, otherwise known as the American leopard, belongs to the
+forests of South America, and has many points of difference from, as
+well as some of similarity with, the leopard of Asia. Though ferocious
+in his wild state, he is amenable to civilising influences and becomes
+mild and tame in captivity. He is an excellent swimmer and an expert
+climber, ascending to the tops of high branchless trees by fixing his
+claws in the trunks. It is said that he can hunt in the trees almost as
+well as he can upon the ground, and that hence he becomes a formidable
+enemy to the monkeys. He is also a clever fisherman, his method being
+that of dropping saliva on to the surface of the water, and upon the
+approach of a fish, by a dexterous stroke of his paw knocking it out of
+the water on to the bank.</p>
+
+<p>But the jaguar by no means confines his attention to hunting monkeys and
+defenceless fish. He will hunt big game, and when hungry will not
+hesitate to attack man.</p>
+
+<p>The strength of the jaguar is very great, and as he can climb, swim, and
+leap a great distance, he seems to be almost equally formidable in three
+elements. He is said to attack the alligator and to banquet with evident
+relish off his victim. D'Azara says that on one occasion he found a
+jaguar feasting upon a horse which it had killed. The jaguar fled at his
+approach, whereupon he had the body of the horse dragged to within a
+musket shot of a tree in which he purposed watching for the jaguar's
+return. While temporarily absent he left a man to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> keep watch, and while
+he was away the jaguar reappeared on the opposite side of a river which
+was both deep and broad. Having crossed the river the animal approached,
+and seized the horse with his teeth, dragged it some sixty paces to the
+water side, plunged in with it, swam across the river, pulled it out
+upon the other side, and carried it into a neighbouring wood.</p>
+
+<p>Such an animal could not but be a formidable foe to any one who had the
+misfortune to be unarmed when attacked, as many an early settler in the
+Western States of America found to his cost. Among such experiences, the
+following story of a night of horror told by Mrs. Bowdich stands out as
+a tale of terror scarcely likely to be surpassed.</p>
+
+<p>Two of the early settlers in the Western States of America, a man and
+his wife, once closed their wooden hut, and went to pay a visit at a
+distance, leaving a freshly-killed piece of venison hanging inside. The
+gable end of this house was not boarded up as high as the roof, but a
+large aperture was left for light and air. By taking an enormous leap, a
+hungry jaguar, attracted by the smell of the venison, had entered the
+hut and devoured part of it. He was disturbed by the return of the
+owners, and took his departure. The venison was removed. The husband
+went away the night after to a distance, and left his wife alone in the
+hut. She had not been long in bed before she heard the jaguar leap in at
+the open gable. There was no door between her room and that in which he
+had entered, and she knew not how to protect herself. She, however,
+screamed as loudly as she could, and made all the violent noises she
+could think of, which served to frighten him away at that time; but she
+knew he would come again, and she must be prepared for him. She tried to
+make a large fire, but the wood was expended. She thought of rolling
+herself up in the bed-clothes, but these would be torn off. The idea of
+getting under the low bedstead suggested itself, but she felt sure a paw
+would be stretched forth which would drag her out. Her husband had taken
+all their firearms. At last, as she heard the jaguar this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> time
+scrambling up the end of the house, she in despair got into a large
+store chest, the lid of which closed with a spring. Scarcely was she
+within it, and had dragged the lid down, inserting her fingers between
+it and the side of the chest, when the jaguar discovered where she was.
+He smelt round the chest, tried to get his head in through the crack,
+but fortunately he could not raise the lid. He found her fingers and
+began to lick them; she felt them bleed, but did not dare to move them
+for fear she should be suffocated. At length the jaguar leaped on to the
+lid, and his weight pressing down the lid, fractured these fingers.
+Still she could not move. He smelt round again, he pulled, he leaped on
+and off, till at last getting tired of his vain efforts, he went away.
+The poor woman lay there till daybreak, and then only feeling safe from
+her enemy, she went as fast as her strength would let her to her nearest
+neighbour's, a distance of two miles, where she procured help for her
+wounded fingers, which were long in getting well. On his return, her
+husband found a male and female jaguar in the forest close by, with
+their cubs, and all were destroyed.</p>
+
+<p>Human hair has been known to turn white in a single night, and is often
+said to do so in the pages of fiction. Whether it did so or not in the
+present case is not recorded, but certainly if it did not, it lost an
+exceptional opportunity.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="AUNT_GRIEVES_SILVER" id="AUNT_GRIEVES_SILVER"></a>AUNT GRIEVES' SILVER.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Kate Hamilton's father had been dead six months, and Kate had had
+time to realise that the extensive sheep station belonged to her and to
+her alone&mdash;that she, in fact, was what the shearers called "the
+boss"&mdash;then did she sit down and pen a few lines to her aunt in
+England&mdash;her father's only sister. She did not exactly know what
+possessed her to do it. She had never at any time during her nineteen
+years corresponded with her aunt; it was her father who had kept up the
+tie between his sister and himself. But notwithstanding that she was now
+"boss," perhaps a craving for a little of the sympathy and the great
+affection with which her father had always surrounded her, had something
+to do with her wishing to get up a correspondence with his sister.
+Whatever the reason the impulse was there, and the letter was despatched
+to the England that Kate had never seen except through her father's
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>A few weeks later she received an answer that filled her with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>After a few preliminary remarks relating to the grief she felt at the
+news of her brother's death, Mrs. Grieves wrote as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Your cousin Cicely and I cannot bear to think of your
+being alone&mdash;young girl that you are&mdash;without a single
+relative near for comfort or advice. I have made up my mind
+to start for Australia as soon as I can arrange my affairs
+satisfactorily. There is nothing to keep us in England
+since<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> Cicely's father died last year, and I long to see my
+brother's only child. Moreover, the voyage will do Cicely
+good, for she is very fragile, and the doctor warmly
+approves of the idea. So adieu, my dear child, till we
+meet. I shall send a cablegram the day before our vessel
+starts.</p>
+
+<p>"Your affectionate aunt,</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Caroline Grieves</span>."</p></div>
+
+<p>Kate's face was a study when she had finished reading the letter.
+Surprise she certainly felt, and a little amusement, too, to think that
+she&mdash;an Australian bush-born girl&mdash;could not look after herself and her
+affairs without an English aunt and an English cousin travelling many
+thousands of miles across the water to aid her with their advice.</p>
+
+<p>Hadn't she been for the last three years her father's right hand in the
+store, and in the shearing-shed, too, for that matter? Didn't she
+understand thoroughly how the books were kept? For this very reason her
+father, knowing full well that the complaint from which he suffered
+would sooner or later cause his death, had kept her cognisant of how the
+station should be managed. And now these English relatives were leaving
+their beautiful English home to give her advice upon matters that they
+were totally ignorant of!</p>
+
+<p>Kate sat down with the letter in her hand and laughed. Then she looked
+sober. It would after all be pleasant to see some of her own relatives,
+not one of which&mdash;either on her dead mother's or her father's side&mdash;did
+she possess in Australia.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, after all, the idea, on closer investigation, did not seem at all
+disagreeable, and Kate took up the letter again and read it with
+pleasure this time.</p>
+
+<p>Even if she had wished to put a stop to the intended visit, she could
+not have had time, for three weeks later she received the cablegram:</p>
+
+<p class="center">"<i>We are leaving by the steamer Europia.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>She really felt a thrill of joy as she read this. She could now
+calculate upon the day they were likely to arrive. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> days flew fast
+enough, for Kate had not time to sit down and dream over the appearance
+of the travellers. The "boss" was wanted everywhere, and she must needs
+know the why and wherefore of matters pertaining to account-books,
+shearing sheds, cattle-yards, stores, and everything relating to the
+homestead.</p>
+
+<p>"It is good you were born with your father's business head," said Phil
+Wentworth, with a scarcely concealed look of admiration.</p>
+
+<p>He was the manager of the station at Watakona. Mr. Hamilton had chosen
+him five years before to be his representative over the shearing-shed
+and stores, finding him after that length of time fully capable of
+performing all and more than was expected of him. He was a good-looking
+young man of thirty, with a bright, cheery manner, that had a good
+effect upon those employed at the station.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a grumble from one of the men has ever been heard since Wentworth
+came here as manager," Kate's father had often said to her. "So
+different from that rascal Woods, who treated some of the men as if they
+were dogs, and allowed many a poor sheep to go shorn to its pen cut and
+bleeding from overhaste, with never a word of remonstrance."</p>
+
+<p>And Kate bore that in mind, as also some of her father's last words:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't ever be persuaded to part with Wentworth. He is far and away the
+best man I have ever had for the business."</p>
+
+<hr class="thought_break" />
+
+<p>At last the day came when Mrs. Grieves and her daughter Cicely arrived
+at Watakona.</p>
+
+<p>There was a comical smile on the manager's good-looking face as trunk
+after trunk was lifted down off the waggon, and Kate's aunt announced
+that "there was more to come."</p>
+
+<p>"More to come!" answered Kate, surprised. And then, bursting into a
+laugh, "Dear aunt, what can you have brought that will be of any use to
+you in this out-of-the-way place?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Grieves smilingly nodded her head. "There is not one trunk there
+that I could possibly do without."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>And Kate, with another smile, dismissed the subject.</p>
+
+<p>But not so her aunt. When they were all seated together after a
+comfortable tea, she began in a whisper, looking round cautiously first
+to see that no one was within hearing:</p>
+
+<p>"You are curious, Kate dear, to know what those trunks contain?"</p>
+
+<p>"My curiosity can stay, aunt. I am only afraid that what you have
+brought will be of no use to you. You see, I live such a quiet life
+here, with few friends and fewer grand dresses, that I fear you will be
+disappointed at not being able to wear any of the things you have
+brought."</p>
+
+<p>Cicely, a pretty, delicate-looking girl, laughed merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"They do not hold dresses, Kate. No, I have not thought to lead a gay
+life on a sheep station in Australia. What I have brought is something
+that I could not bear to leave behind. Those trunks contain all the
+silver I used to use in my English home."</p>
+
+<p>"Silver! What kind of silver?"</p>
+
+<p>"Teapots, cream ewers, &eacute;pergnes, candlesticks, to say nothing of the
+spoons, forks, fish-knives, etc.," said Cicely gaily.</p>
+
+<p>"You've brought all those things with you here?" cried Kate, horrified.
+"Oh, aunt, where can I put them all for safety?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Grieves looked nonplussed. "I suppose you have some iron safes&mdash;&mdash;"
+she began.</p>
+
+<p>"But not big enough to store that quantity of silver!"</p>
+
+<p>Kate spent a restless night. Visions of bushrangers stood between her
+and sleep. What would she do with that silver?</p>
+
+<p>"Bank it," suggested Phil Wentworth the next morning, as she explained
+her difficulty to him in the little counting-house after breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Kate shook her head. "Aunt wouldn't do it. If she did she might as well
+have banked it in England."</p>
+
+<p>The manager pulled his moustache. "How much is there?"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't seen it, but from what Cicely says I should say there are
+heaps and heaps."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>"Foolish woman," was the manager's thought, but he wisely kept it to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>When, however, the silver was laid before her very eyes, and piece after
+piece was taken from the trunks, ranged alongside one another in Mrs.
+Grieves's bedroom, Kate's heart failed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Wentworth must see it and advise me," was all she could say. And
+her aunt could not deter her.</p>
+
+<p>Kate's white brow was puckered into a frown, and her pretty mouth
+drooped slightly at the corners as she watched Mr. Wentworth making his
+inspection of the silver. She knew his face so well, she could tell at
+one glance that he was thinking her aunt an exceedingly foolish woman,
+and Kate was not quite sure that she did not agree with him.</p>
+
+<p>However, the silver was there, and they had to make the best of it, for
+Mrs. Grieves utterly rejected the idea of having it conveyed to a bank
+in Sydney.</p>
+
+<p>"The only thing to do," said the manager gloomily, turning to Kate, "is
+to place it under the trap-door in the counting-house."</p>
+
+<p>Kate looked questioningly at him. He half smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I think that the only thing you are not aware of in the business is the
+fact that the flooring of the counting-house can be converted at will
+into a strong lock-up. Come, and I will show you."</p>
+
+<p>The three women followed him. To Cicely's English eyes the entire
+homestead was a strangely delightful place.</p>
+
+<p>Rolling to one side the matting that covered the floor of the
+counting-house, Mr. Wentworth paused, and introducing a lever between
+the joining of two boards upheaved a square trap-door, revealing to the
+eyes of the astonished English ladies, and the no less astonished
+Australian "boss," a wide, gaping receptacle, suitable for the very
+articles under discussion.</p>
+
+<p>It looked dark and gloomy below, but on the manager's striking a wax
+match and holding it aloft, they were enabled each one to descend the
+short ladder which the opening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> of the flooring revealed. Beneath the
+counting-house Kate found to her amazement a room quite as large as the
+one above it, furnished with chairs, a table, and a couple of stout iron
+safes. Upon the table stood an old iron candlestick into which Mr.
+Wentworth inserted a candle lighted from his wax match.</p>
+
+<p>"You never told me," were Kate's reproachful words, and still more
+reproachful glance.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you now," he said lightly. "There was no need to before. Your
+father showed it me when I had been here a year. Indeed, he and I often
+forgot that the counting-house had been built for a double purpose,&mdash;but
+that was because there was nothing to stow away of much value. Now I
+think we have just the hiding-place for all that silver."</p>
+
+<p>It was indeed the place, the very place, and under great secrecy the
+silver was conveyed through the trap-door, and firmly locked into the
+iron safes.</p>
+
+<p>So far so good, and Kate breathed again with almost as much of her old
+light-heartedness as before.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of her doubt of the wisdom of bringing such valuables so far
+and to such a place, she and Cicely took a secret delight in a weekly
+cleaning up of the silver, secure of all observation from outsiders. It
+was a pleasure to Kate to lift and polish the handsome &eacute;pergne, and to
+finger the delicate teaspoons and fanciful fish-knives and forks.</p>
+
+<p>"What a haul this would be for a bushranger!" she said one day, as she
+carefully laid the admired &eacute;pergne back into its place in the iron safe.</p>
+
+<p>Cicely gave a gasp and a shudder. "You&mdash;you don't have them in these
+parts, surely!" she ejaculated.</p>
+
+<p>"If they find there is anything worth lifting they'll visit any
+homestead in the colony," returned Kate.</p>
+
+<p>"But oh! dear Kate, what should we do if they came here? I should die of
+fright."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm afraid you would," said Kate, glancing compassionately at the
+delicate figure beside her, and at the cheeks which had visibly lost
+their pink colour. "No, Cicely,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> I don't think there is any chance of
+such characters visiting us just now. The first and last time I saw a
+bushranger was when I was fifteen years old. He and his men tried to
+break into our house for, somehow, it had got wind that father had in
+the house a large sum of money&mdash;money which of course he usually banked.
+I can see dear old father now, standing with his rifle in his hand at
+the dining-room window, and Mr. Wentworth standing beside him. They were
+firing away at three men who were as much in earnest as my father and
+his manager were."</p>
+
+<p>"And what happened?" asked Cicely breathlessly, as Kate stopped to look
+round for her polishing cloth.</p>
+
+<p>"Father killed one man, the two others got away, not, however, before
+Mr. Wentworth had shot away the forefinger of the leader. We found it
+after they had gone, lying on the path beside the cattle-yard. He was a
+terrible fellow, the leader of that bushranging crew. He went by the
+name of Wolfgang. He may be alive now, I don't know. I have not heard of
+any depredations committed by him for two or three years now."</p>
+
+<p>"And I hope you never will," said Cicely with a shudder. "Kate, have you
+done all you want to do here? I should so like to finish that letter to
+send off by to-day's mail."</p>
+
+<p>"Then go. I'll just stay to lock up. You haven't much time if you want
+Sam Griffiths to take it this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>Cicely jumped up without another word, and climbed the ladder.</p>
+
+<p>Kate lifted the case of fish-knives into the safe, and stretched out her
+hand for the other articles without turning her head. She felt her hand
+clutched as in a vice by fingers cold as ice. She turned sharply round.
+Cicely was at her side with lips and cheeks devoid of colour.</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious, Cicely! what is the matter? How you startled me!" said
+Kate in a vexed tone.</p>
+
+<p>Cicely laid one cold, trembling, finger upon her cousin's lips.</p>
+
+<p>"He has seen us&mdash;he has been looking down on us," was all she could
+articulate.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>"Who? What do you mean?" But Kate's voice was considerably lowered.</p>
+
+<p>"The bushranger Wolfgang. He&mdash;he has seen all the silver!"</p>
+
+<p>Kate broke into a nervous laugh. "I think you are dreaming, Cicely. How
+do you know you saw Wolfgang? And how could he see us down here?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is no dream," answered Cicely in the same husky whisper. "Kate, as I
+climbed the ladder quickly I saw the face of a man disappear from the
+trap-door, but not before I caught sight of the forefinger missing off
+the hand that held one side of the trap-door. Kate, Kate, it was
+Wolfgang. He has been staring down at us."</p>
+
+<p>Kate looked up wildly at the opening above. It was free from all
+intruders now. She locked every article into the safe without uttering a
+word; then said, "Come."</p>
+
+<p>Together they mounted the ladder; together they latched down the
+trap-door; together they left the counting-house.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell Sam to ride to the shed and ask Mr. Wentworth to come to me at
+once&mdash;at once." Kate gave the order in a calm voice to the one woman
+servant that did the work in the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Sam isn't in the yards," was the answer. "He told me three hours ago
+that he was wanted by Mr. Wentworth to ride to the township for
+something or other. He was in a fine way about it, for he said it was
+taking him from his work here."</p>
+
+<p>Some of Kate's calm left her. She looked round at the helpless
+women&mdash;three now, for her aunt had joined them.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt," she said, forcing herself to speak quietly, "I have fears that
+this afternoon we shall be attacked by bushrangers. Unfortunately Sam
+has been called away, and he is the only man we have on the premises.
+There is not another within reach, except at the shearing-shed, and you
+know where that is. Which of you will venture to ride there for help? I
+dare not go, for I must protect the house."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>She glanced at each of the three faces in turn, and saw no help there.
+Becky, the servant, had utterly collapsed at the word bushranger; the
+other two faces looked as if carved in stone.</p>
+
+<p>"Kate, Kate, is there no other help near?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not nearer than the shearing-shed, aunt."</p>
+
+<p>"I daren't go. I couldn't ride that distance."</p>
+
+<p>"Cicely?" Kate's tone was imploring.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't ask me," and Cicely burst into a flood of tears.</p>
+
+<p>"We must defend ourselves, then."</p>
+
+<p>The Australian girl's voice was quiet, albeit it trembled slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Come to the counting-house. Becky, you come too. We must barricade the
+place. I'll run round and fasten up every door. They will have a tough
+job to get in," she murmured grimly.</p>
+
+<p>How she thanked her father for the strong oak door! The oaken shutters
+with their massive iron clamps! It would seem as if he had expected a
+raid from bushrangers at some time or other in his life. The
+counting-house door was stronger than the others. She now understood the
+reason why. The room below had been taken into consideration when that
+door was put up.</p>
+
+<p>It was three o'clock in the afternoon. A broiling, sun-baking afternoon.
+They were prepared, sitting, as it were, in readiness for the attack
+they were momentarily expecting.</p>
+
+<p>It came at last. The voice that sounded outside the counting-house door
+took her back to the time when she was fifteen years of age. It was a
+strange, harsh voice, grating in its harshness, strange in being like no
+other. She remembered it to be the voice of the man that had challenged
+her father that memorable day&mdash;remembered it to be the voice of
+Wolfgang.</p>
+
+<p>Like an evil bird of prey had he scented from afar the silver stored
+under the trap-door, just as he had scented the sum of money her father
+had hidden away in the house.</p>
+
+<p>"It's no use your sheltering yourselves in there," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> the voice. "We
+want to harm no one&mdash;it's against our principles. What we want is just
+the silver hidden under the counting-house, and we want nothing more."</p>
+
+<p>With one finger upraised, cautioning silence, Kate saw for the twentieth
+time to the priming of her rifle&mdash;the very rifle that had shot
+Wolfgang's chief man four years before. There was no need for her to
+caution her companions to silence. They knelt on the floor&mdash;a huddled,
+trembling trio.</p>
+
+<p>If only Kate could see how many men there were! But she could not.</p>
+
+<p>"It will take them some time to batter in that door," thought she, "and
+by that time, who knows, help may come from some unexpected quarter."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you dare to defy us?" said the voice again. "We know you are utterly
+helpless. Sam has been got out of the way by a cooked-up story, ditto
+your manager. They are both swearing in the broiling township by now."
+And the voice broke off with a loud "Ha! ha!"</p>
+
+<p>At which two other voices echoed "Ha! ha! ha! ha!"</p>
+
+<p>Kate strained her ears to catch the sounds. Were there only three, then,
+just as there had been three four years before?</p>
+
+<p>Then ensued a battering at the door, but it stood like a rock. They were
+tiring at that game. It hurt them, and did no good. There was silence
+for the space of some minutes, and then the sound of scraping reached
+Kate's ears.</p>
+
+<p>What were they doing now?</p>
+
+<p>It sounded on the roof of the counting-house. O God! they were never
+going to make an entrance that way!</p>
+
+<p>Scrape, scrape, scrape. The sound went on persistently.</p>
+
+<p>Kate's face was hidden in her hands. Was she praying? thought Cicely.
+Then she, too, lifted up a silent prayer for help in their time of need.</p>
+
+<p>Kate's voice whispering in her ear aroused her. "Come," she breathed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>And with one accord, without a question, the three followed her
+silently.</p>
+
+<p>The room beyond the counting-house was up a narrow flight of stairs. It
+used to be called by Kate, in derision, "Father's observatory." Through
+a small pane of glass in this room she could see the roof of the
+counting-house.</p>
+
+<p>Sawing away at the wooden structure upon which he was perched sat
+Wolfgang himself, whilst the man beside him was busily engaged in
+removing the thatch piece by piece.</p>
+
+<p>Kate waited to see no more. Raising her rifle to her shoulder she
+fired&mdash;fired straight at the leading bushranger.</p>
+
+<p>She saw him stagger and roll&mdash;roll down the sloping roof, and fall with
+a dull thud to the ground below.</p>
+
+<p>She could only lean against the wall, and hide her face in her trembling
+hands. Was he dead? Had she killed him? Or had the fall off the house
+completed the deed?</p>
+
+<p>She felt a hand on her arm. Becky was standing beside her. "Give me the
+rifle," she breathed. "I can load it."</p>
+
+<p>With a faint feeling of surprise at her heart, Kate handed her the
+weapon with fingers slightly unsteady. She received it back in silence,
+and mounted to her place of observation again.</p>
+
+<p>Wolfgang's companion was crouching. His attitude struck Kate
+disagreeably. His back was turned to her. What was he looking at?</p>
+
+<p>She strained her eyes, and descried, galloping at the top of his speed,
+Black Bounce, and on his back was Phil Wentworth. Behind him at
+breakneck pace came six of the shearers&mdash;tall, brawny men, the very
+sight of whom inspired courage.</p>
+
+<p>Wentworth's rifle was raised. A shot rang through the air. Then another.
+And yet another. Bang! bang! bang! What had happened?</p>
+
+<p>Kate, straining her eyes, only knew that just as the manager's rifle
+went off, the bushranger on the roof had fired at him, not, however,
+before Kate's shot disabled him in the arm, thus preventing his aim from
+covering the manager.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>"Thank God, thank God, we are saved!" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>And now that the danger was over, Kate sank down upon the floor of the
+"observatory," and sobbed as if her heart would break.</p>
+
+<p>Becky&mdash;her bravery returning as the sound of horses' hoofs struck upon
+her ear&mdash;slipped from the room, leaving Mrs. Grieves and Cicely to play
+the part of consolers to her young mistress.</p>
+
+<p>It appeared that a trumped-up story, purporting to come from one of his
+friends in the township, had caused Phil Wentworth to go there that
+morning, and that on his way he overtook Sam Griffiths, who grumpily
+asked him why he should have been ordered to the township when his hands
+were so full of work at home. This led the young manager to scent
+something wrong, and telling Griffiths to follow him home quickly he
+rode straight back to the shed, and getting some of the shearers to
+accompany him, made straight tracks for the house.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Grieves and Cicely had by this time had as much as they cared for
+of bush life, and very shortly after announced that the Australian
+climate did not suit either Cicely or herself as she had hoped it might,
+and that they had made up their minds to return to England.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope they intend to take their silver away with them," said the
+manager when Kate told him.</p>
+
+<p>She replied with a laugh, "Oh yes, I don't believe aunt would think life
+worth living if she had not her silver with her."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Aunt Grieves! the vessel she travelled by had to be abandoned
+before it reached England, and the silver she had suffered so much for
+lies buried in the sands of the deep.</p>
+
+<p>As for Kate, she subsequently took Philip Wentworth into partnership,
+and he gave her his name.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="BILLJIM" id="BILLJIM"></a>BILLJIM.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY S. LE SOTGILLE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Nestling in the scrub at the head of a gully running into the Newanga
+was a typical Australian humpy. It was built entirely of bark. Roof,
+back, front, and sides were huge sheets of stringy bark, and the window
+shutters were of the same, the windows themselves being sheets of
+calico; also the two doors were whole sheets of bark swung upon leathern
+hinges.</p>
+
+<p>The humpy was divided into three rooms, two bedrooms and a general room.
+The "galley" was just outside, a three-sided, roofed arrangement, and
+the ubiquitous bark figured in that adjunct of civilisation.</p>
+
+<p>In springtime the roof and sides of this humpy were one huge blaze of
+Bougainvill&aelig;a, and not a vestige of bark was visible. It was surrounded
+by a paling fence, rough split bush palings only, but in every way
+fitted for what they were intended to do&mdash;that is, keep out animals of
+all descriptions.</p>
+
+<p>In the front garden were flowers of every conceivable hue and variety,
+from the flaring giant sunflower to the quiet retiring geranium, and
+stuck to old logs and standing dead timber were several beautiful
+orchids of different varieties. Violets, pansies, fuchsias and
+nasturtiums bordered the walks in true European fashion, and one
+wondered who had taken all this trouble in so outlandish a spot.</p>
+
+<p>At the back of the humpy rose the Range sheer fifteen hundred feet with
+huge granite boulders, twice the size of the humpy itself, standing
+straight out from the side of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> the Range, giving one the idea that they
+were merely stuck there in some mysterious manner, and were ready at a
+moment's notice to come tumbling down, overwhelming every one and
+everything in their descent.</p>
+
+<p>On the other three sides was scrub. Dense tropical scrub for miles,
+giving out a muggy disagreeable heat, and that peculiar overpowering
+smell common, I think, to all tropical growth. No one could have chosen
+a better spot than this if his desire were to escape entirely from the
+busy world and live a quiet sequestered life amongst the countless
+beautiful gifts that Dame Nature seems so lavish of in the hundred nooks
+and corners of the mountainous portion of Australia. In this humpy,
+then, hidden from the world in general, and known only to a few miners
+and prospectors, lived Dick Benson, his wife, and their daughter
+Billjim. That is what she was called, anyway, by all the diggers on the
+Newanga. It wasn't her name, of course. She was registered at Clagton
+Court House as Katherine Veronica Benson, but no one in all the district
+thought of calling her Kitty now, and as for Veronica&mdash;well, it was too
+much to ask of any one, let alone a rough bushman.</p>
+
+<p>The name Billjim she practically chose herself.</p>
+
+<p>One evening a digger named Jack L'Estrange, a great friend of the
+Bensons, was reading an article from the <i>Bulletin</i> to her father, and
+Kitty, as she was then called, was whiling away the time by pulling his
+moustache, an occupation which interfered somewhat with the reading, but
+which was allowed to pass without serious rebuke.</p>
+
+<p>In this article the paper spoke of backblocks bushmen under the generic
+soubriquet of Billjim. And a very good name too, for in any up-country
+town one has but to sing out "Bill" or "Jim" to have an answer from
+three-fourths of the male population.</p>
+
+<p>The name tickled Kitty immensely, and she chuckled, "Billjim! Billjim!
+Oh, I'd like to be called that."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you though?" asked her father, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Kitty; "it's a fine name, Billjim."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>"Well, we will call you Billjim in future," said Dick; and from that day
+the name stuck to her. And it suited her.</p>
+
+<p>She was the wildest of wild bush girls. At twelve years old she could
+ride and shoot as well as most of us, and would pan out a prospect with
+any man on the Newanga.</p>
+
+<p>She had never been to school, there being none nearer than Clagton,
+which was some fifteen miles away, but she had been taught the simple
+arts of reading and writing by her mother, and Jack L'Estrange had
+ministered to her wants in the matter of arithmetic.</p>
+
+<p>With all her wildness she was a good, kindly girl, materially helping
+her mother in the household matters, and all that flower garden was her
+special charge and delight.</p>
+
+<p>Wednesday and Thursday of every week were holidays, and those two days
+were spent by Billjim in roaming the country far and wide. Sometimes on
+horseback, when a horse could be borrowed, but mostly on her own
+well-formed feet.</p>
+
+<p>She would wander off with a shovel and a dish into the scrub, and,
+following up some gully all day, would return at night tired out and
+happy, and generally with two or three grains of gold to show for her
+day's work. Sometimes she would come back laden with some new orchid,
+and this she would carefully fix in the garden in a position as similar
+as possible to that in which she had found it, and usually it would
+blossom there as if it were thankful at being so well cared for.</p>
+
+<p>When Billjim wasn't engaged making her pocket-money, as she termed it,
+her days would be spent with Jack L'Estrange.</p>
+
+<p>Jack was a fine, strapping young fellow of twenty-three, and was doing
+as well on the Newanga as any. Since the day he had snatched Billjim
+(then a wee mite) from the jaws of an alligator, as Queensland folk will
+insist upon calling their crocodile, he had been <i>l'ami de la maison</i> at
+the Bensons', and Billjim thought there was no one in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> the world like
+him. He in return would do any mortal thing which that rather capricious
+young lady desired.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, when they were all sitting chatting round the fire in the
+galley, Benson said:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think, Jack, that Billjim ought to go to some decent school?
+The missus and me of course ain't no scholars, but now that we can
+afford it we'd like Billjim to learn proper, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Jack looked at Billjim, who had nestled up closer to him during this
+speech, and was on the point of answering in the negative, when less
+selfish thoughts entered his head, and he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Dick, much against my inclination, I must say that I think she
+ought to go. You see," he continued, turning to Billjim and taking her
+hand, "it's this way. We should all miss you, lass, very much, but it's
+for your own good. You must know more than we here can teach you if you
+wish to be any good to your father and mother."</p>
+
+<p>Billjim nodded and looked at him, and Jack had to turn his eyes away and
+speak to Mrs. Benson for fear of going back on his words.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, Mrs. Benson," said Jack, "it wouldn't be for long, for Billjim
+would learn very quickly with good teachers, and be of great use to you
+when Dick makes that pile."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Benson smiled in spite of herself when Jack mentioned "that pile."
+Dick had been going to strike it rich up there on the Newanga for over
+seven years, and the fortune hadn't come yet.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you're right," she said, "and I'm sure Billjim will be a good
+girl and study quick to get back. Won't you, lass?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'm," answered Billjim, with a reservoir of tears in her voice, but
+none in her eyes. She wouldn't have cried with Jack there for the world!</p>
+
+<p>So after a lot of talking it was settled, and Billjim departed for
+school, and the humpy knew her no more for four long years.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>Ah! what a dreary, dreary time that was to Mrs. Benson and Dick. Jack
+kept her flower garden going for all those years, and Snowy, her dog,
+lived down at his camp. These had been Billjim's last commands.</p>
+
+<p>Dick worked away manfully looking for that pile, and succeeded passing
+well, as the account at Clagton Bank could show, but there was no
+alteration made at the "Nest," as the humpy was designated.</p>
+
+<p>Jack passed most of his evenings up there, and on mail days was in great
+request to read Billjim's epistles out loud.</p>
+
+<p>No matter who was there, those letters were read out, and some of us who
+knew Billjim well passed encouraging remarks about her improvement, etc.</p>
+
+<p>We all missed her, for she had been used to paying periodical flying
+visits, and her face had always seemed to us like a bright gleam of
+sunshine breaking through that steaming, muggy, damp scrub.</p>
+
+<p>One mail day, four years very near to the day after Billjim's departure,
+the usual letter was read out, and part of it ran so:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mum dear, do let me come back now. I am sure I have learned enough,
+and oh! how I long for a sight of you and dad, and dear old Jack and
+Frenchy, and Jim Travers, and all of you in fact. Let me come, oh! do
+let me come back."</p>
+
+<p>Upon my word, I believe there was a break in Jack's voice as he read.
+Mrs. Benson was crying peacefully, and Dick and French were blowing
+their noses in an offensive and boisterous manner.</p>
+
+<p>A motion was put and carried forthwith that Billjim should return at
+once. Newanga couldn't go on another month like this. Quite absurd to
+think of it.</p>
+
+<p>The letter was dispatched telling Billjim of the joyful news, and
+settling accounts with the good sisters who had sheltered and cared for
+her so long.</p>
+
+<p>Great were the preparations for Dick's journey to the coast to meet her
+when the time came. So great was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> excitement that a newcomer thought
+some great reef had been struck, and followed several of us about for
+days trying to discover its location and get his pegs in!</p>
+
+<p>Every one wanted to lend something for Billjim's comfort on the journey
+out. No lady's saddle was there in all the camp, and great was Dick's
+trouble thereat, until Frenchy rigged his saddle up with a bit of wood
+wrapped round with a piece of blanket, which, firmly fixed to the front
+dees, did duty for a horn.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a great idea, Frenchy," said Dick; "but, lord, I'd ha' sent her
+the money for one if I'd only ha' thought of it, but, bless you, I was
+thinking of her as a little girl yet."</p>
+
+<p>'Twas a great day entirely, as Micky the Rat put it, when Billjim came
+home.</p>
+
+<p>Every digger for miles round left work and made a bee-line from his
+claim to the road, and patiently waited there to get a hand-shake and a
+smile from their friend Billjim, and they all got both, and went back
+very grateful and very refreshed.</p>
+
+<p>Billjim had turned into a pretty woman in those four years, and I think
+every one was somewhat staggered by it.</p>
+
+<p>Jack L'Estrange's first meeting with his one-time playmate was at the
+Nest, and it so threw Jack off his balance that he was practically
+maudlin for a week after the event.</p>
+
+<p>When he entered the door he stood at first spell-bound at the change in
+his favourite, then he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Bill&mdash;er Kate, I.... 'Pon my word, I don't know what to say. Oh,
+Christopher! you know this is comical; I came up here intending to kiss
+my little friend Billjim, and I find you grown into a beautiful woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Kiss me, Jack?" broke in Billjim; "kiss me? Why, I'm going to hug you!"
+And she did, and Jack blushed to the roots of his curly golden hair, and
+was confused all the evening over it.</p>
+
+<p>The four years' schooling had not changed Billjim one iota as far as
+character went. She was the identical Billjim grown big and grown
+pretty, that was all.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span>But something was to happen which was to turn the wild tom-boy into a
+serious woman, and it happened shortly after her return home.</p>
+
+<p>It was mail night up at the Nest, and Jack L'Estrange was absent from
+the crowd that invariably spent an hour or two getting their mail and
+discussing items of grave interest. Being mail night, Jack's absence was
+naturally noticed, and every one made some remark about it.</p>
+
+<p>However, old Dick said: "Oh, Jack's struck some good thing, I suppose,
+and got back to camp too late to come up. He'll come in the morning
+likely."</p>
+
+<p>This seemed to satisfy every one save Billjim. She turned to Frenchy,
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know whereabouts Jack was working lately?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Frenchy. "He was working at the two mile, day before
+yesterday, so I suppose he's there yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Billjim, "I suppose he will be." But Billjim wasn't
+satisfied. When every one was asleep she was out, and knowing the scrub
+thoroughly, was over to Jack's camp in a quarter of an hour. Not finding
+Jack there, she made for the two mile with all speed, for something told
+her she knew not what. An undefinable feeling that something was wrong
+came across her. She saw Jack lying crushed and bleeding and no one
+there to help him! Do what she would, dry, choking sobs burst from her
+tight-closed lips as she scrambled along over boulders and through the
+thick scrub. Brambles, wait-a-bit vines, and berry bushes scratched and
+stung her, and switched across her face, leaving bleeding and livid
+marks on her tender skin. But she pushed on and on in the fitful
+moonlight through the dense undergrowth, making a straight line for the
+two mile.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived there, she stopped for breath for a while, and then sent forth a
+long "Coo-ie." No answer. "I was right," thought Billjim, "he is hurt.
+My God! he may be dead out here, while we were there chatting and
+laughing as usual. Oh, Jack, Jack!"</p>
+
+<p>Up the gully she sped, from one abandoned working to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> another, over
+rocks and stones, into water-holes, with no thought for herself. At
+last, there, huddled up against the bank, with a huge boulder pinning
+one leg to the ground, lay poor Jack L'Estrange.</p>
+
+<p>Billjim's first impression was that he was dead, he looked so limp and
+white out in the open there with the moon shining on his face, but when
+her accustomed courage returned she stooped over him and found him
+alive, but unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>She bathed his temples with water, murmuring:</p>
+
+<p>"Jack dear, wake up. Oh, my own lad, wake up and tell me what to do."</p>
+
+<p>Jack opened his eyes at last, as if her soft crooning had reached his
+numbed senses.</p>
+
+<p>"Halloa, Billjim," he said faintly. "Is that you or a dream?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's me, Jack," replied Billjim, flinging school talk to the four
+winds. "It's me. What can I do? How can I help? Are you suffering much?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Jack, "you can't shift that boulder, that's certain, for
+I've tried until I went off. It's not paining now much, seems numbed. Do
+you think you could fetch the boys? Get Frenchy especially; he knows
+something about bandaging and that. It's a case with the leg, I think."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, dear," said Billjim; and the "dear" slipped out unawares,
+but she went on hurriedly to cover the slip: "Yes, I'll get Frenchy and
+Travers, Tate and Micky the Rat; they all live close together. You won't
+faint again, Jack, will you? See, I'll leave this pannikin here with
+water. Keep up your pecker, we shan't be long," and she was gone to hide
+the tears in her eyes, and the choke in her voice. "It's a case with the
+leg" was too much for her.</p>
+
+<p>She was at Frenchy's camp in a very short time. Frenchy was at his fire,
+dreaming. When he saw who his visitor was he was startled, to say the
+least of it.</p>
+
+<p>"What, Billjim the Beautiful? At this hour of night? Why, what in the
+name of...?" were his incoherent ejaculations.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span>And Billjim for the first time in that eventful night really gave way.
+She sat down and sobbed out:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Frenchy.... Come.... Poor Jack.... Two mile ... crushed and
+bleeding to death, Frenchy.... I saw the blood oozing out.... Oh, dear
+me!... Get the boys ... come...."</p>
+
+<p>Frenchy's only answer was a long, melodious howl, which was promptly
+re-echoed from right and left and far away back in the scrub, and from
+all sides forms hurried up clad in all sorts of strange night costumes.</p>
+
+<p>Some shrank back into the shadows again on seeing a woman sitting at the
+fire sobbing, but one and all as they hurried up asked:</p>
+
+<p>"What's up? Niggers?"</p>
+
+<p>They were told, and each hurried back for clothes. Frenchy got his
+bandages together, and fetched his bunk out of his tent.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll take this," he said; "it's as far from Jack's camp to the two
+mile as it is from here. Now then, Billjim, off we go."</p>
+
+<p>Her followers had to keep moving to keep near her, loaded as they were,
+but at last they arrived at the scene of Jack's disaster.</p>
+
+<p>Jack was conscious when they arrived, and Frenchy whipped out a brandy
+flask and put it in Billjim's hand, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Give him a dose every now and again while we mend matters. Sit down
+there facing him. That's right. Now, chaps!"</p>
+
+<p>With a will the great piece of granite was moved from off the crushed
+and bleeding limb. With deft fingers Frenchy had the trouser leg ripped
+up above the knee, and then appeared a horribly crushed, shattered
+thigh. Frenchy shook his head dolefully. "Any one got a small penknife?
+Ivory or smooth-handled one for preference," he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not going to cut him?" queried Billjim, without turning her
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said Frenchy; "I want it to put against the vein and stop this
+bleeding. That'll do nicely," as Travers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> handed him a knife. "Sit
+tight, Jack, I must hurt you now."</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead," said Jack uneasily; "but don't be longer than you can help,"
+and he caught hold of Billjim's hand and remained like that, quiet and
+sensible, while Frenchy put a ligature round the injured limb and
+bandaged it up as well as was possible.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, mates," he said, as he finished, "this is a case for Clagton and
+the doctor at once. No good one going in and fetching the doctor out,
+it's waste of time, and then he mightn't be able to do anything. So we
+must pack him on that stretcher and carry him in. Everybody willing?"</p>
+
+<p>Aye, of course they were, though they knew they had fifteen miles to
+carry a heavy man over gullies and rocks and through scrub and forest.</p>
+
+<p>So Jack was carefully placed on the stretcher.</p>
+
+<p>"Now you had better get home, Billjim, and tell them what has happened,"
+said Frenchy.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, I won't," said Billjim; "I'm going with you;" and go she did,
+of course, holding Jack's hand all the way, and administering small
+doses of brandy whenever she was ordered. "La Vivandi&egrave;re," as Frenchy
+remarked, sotto voce, "but with a heart! Grand Dieu, with what a heart!"</p>
+
+<p>It was a great sight to see that gallant little band carrying twelve
+stone of helpless humanity in the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>Through scrub, over rocks and gullies, and through weird white gum
+forest, and no sound but the laboured breathing of the bearers. There
+were twelve of them, and they carried four and four about, those fifteen
+miles.</p>
+
+<p>Never a groan out of the poor fellow up aloft there, though he must have
+suffered agonies when any one stumbled, which was bound to occur pretty
+often in that dim light.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly but surely they covered the distance, and just as day began to
+dawn they reached the doctor's house at Clagton.</p>
+
+<p>In a very little time Jack was lying on a couch in the surgery.</p>
+
+<p>After some questions the doctor said:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span>"Too weak. Can't do anything just now."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a case, I suppose?" asked Frenchy.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the doctor; "amputation, of course, and I have no one here
+to help me. Stay, though! Who bandaged him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did," answered Frenchy; "I learnt that in hospitals, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well," said the doctor, quite relieved, "you'll do to help me. Go
+and get a little sleep, and come this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are," said Frenchy. "Come on, Billjim. Can't do any good here
+just now. I'll take you to Mother Slater's."</p>
+
+<p>Billjim gave one look at Jack, who nodded and smiled, and then went away
+with Frenchy.</p>
+
+<p>For three weeks after the operation Jack L'Estrange lay hovering on the
+brink of the great chasm. Then he began to mend and get well rapidly.</p>
+
+<p>Billjim was in constant attendance from the day she was allowed to see
+him, and the doctor said, in fact, that but for her care and attention
+there would probably have been no more Jack.</p>
+
+<p>Great was the rejoicing at the Nest when Jack reappeared, and the
+rejoicing turned to enthusiasm when it was discovered that there was a
+mutual understanding come to between Billjim and the crippled miner.</p>
+
+<p>Micky the Rat prophesied great things, but said:</p>
+
+<p>"Faix, 'tis a distressful thing entirely to see a fine gurrl like that
+wid a husband an' he wed on wan leg. 'Twas mesilf Billjim should ha'
+tuk, no less."</p>
+
+<p>But we all knew Micky the Rat, you see.</p>
+
+<p>The wedding-day will never be forgotten by those who were on the Newanga
+at the time.</p>
+
+<p>The event came off at Clagton, and everybody was there. No invitations
+were issued. None were needed. The town came, and the miners from far
+and near, <i>en masse</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Those who couldn't get a seat squatted in true bush fashion with their
+wide-brimmed hats in their hands, and listened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> attentively to the
+service; a lot of them never having entered a church door in their lives
+before.</p>
+
+<p>At the feast, before the newly married couple took their departure,
+everybody was made welcome. It was a great time.</p>
+
+<p>Old Dick got up to make a speech, and failed ignominiously. He looked at
+Billjim for inspiration. She was just the identical person he shouldn't
+have looked at, for thoughts of the Nest without Billjim again rose
+before him, and those thoughts settled him, so he sat down again without
+uttering a word.</p>
+
+<p>Jack said something, almost inaudible, about seeking a fortune and
+finding one, which was prettily put, and Frenchy as best man was heard
+to mutter something about "Beautiful ... loss to camp ... happiness ...
+wooden leg," and the speech making was over.</p>
+
+<p>At the send off much rice flew about, and as the buggy drove off, an old
+dilapidated iron-shod miner's boot was found dangling on the rear axle
+of that conveyance.</p>
+
+<p>That was Micky the Rat's parting shot at Jack for carrying Billjim away.</p>
+
+<p>Clagton was a veritable London for that night only. You couldn't throw a
+stone without hitting some one, and as a rule an artillery battery could
+have practised for hours in the main street without hitting any one or
+anything, barring perhaps a stray dog.</p>
+
+<p>Things calmed down at last, however, and when the newly married returned
+and, adding to the Nest, lived there with the old couple, every one was
+satisfied. "Billjim" remained "Billjim" to all of us, and when a
+stranger expresses surprise at that, Billjim simply says, "Ah! but you
+see we are all mates here, aren't we, Jack?"</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="genre"><a name="IN_THE_WORLD_OF_FAERY" id="IN_THE_WORLD_OF_FAERY"></a>IN THE WORLD OF FAERY.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER" id="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER"></a>THE LEGENDS OF LANGAFFER.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY MADAME ARMAND CAUMONT.</h3>
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_I" id="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_I"></a>I.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Tiny Folk of Langaffer.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>Langaffer was but a village in those days, with a brook running through
+it, a bridge, a market-place, a score of houses, and a church.</p>
+
+<p>It may have become a city since, and may have changed its name. We
+cannot tell. All we know is, that the curious things we are about to
+relate took place a long time ago, before there was any mention of
+railroads or gaslamps, or any of the modern inventions people have
+nowadays.</p>
+
+<p>There was one cottage quite in the middle of the village, much smaller,
+cleaner, and neater than its neighbours. The little couple who lived in
+it were known over the country, far and wide, as "Wattie and Mattie, the
+tiny folk of Langaffer."</p>
+
+<p>These two had gone and got married, if you please, when they were quite
+young, without asking anybody's advice or permission. Whereupon their
+four parents and their eight grandparents sternly disowned them; and the
+Fairy of the land, highly displeased, declared the two should remain
+tiny, as a punishment for their folly.</p>
+
+<p>Yet they loved one another very tenderly, Wattie and Mattie; and, as the
+years rolled by, and never a harsh word was heard between them, and
+peace and unity reigned in their diminutive household&mdash;which could not
+always have been said of their parents' and grandparents'
+firesides&mdash;why, then the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> neighbours began to remark that they were a
+good little couple; and the Fairy of the land declared that if they
+could but distinguish themselves in some way, or perform some great
+action, they might be allowed to grow up after all.</p>
+
+<p>"But how could we ever do a great deed?" said Wattie to Mattie,
+laughing. "Look at the size of us! I defy any man in the village, with
+an arm only the length of mine, to do more than I! Of course I can't
+measure myself with the neighbours. To handle Farmer Fairweather's
+pitchfork would break my back, and to hook a great perch, like Miller
+Mealy, in the mill-race, might be the capsizing of me. Still, what does
+that matter? I can catch little sprats for my little wife's dinner; I
+can dig in our patch of garden, and mend our tiny roof, so that we live
+as cosily and as merrily as the best of them."</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure, Wattie dear!" said Mattie. "And what would become of poor
+me supposing thou wert any bigger? As it is, I can bake the little
+loaves thou lovest to eat, and I can spin and knit enough for us both.
+But, oh, dear! wert thou the size of Farmer Fairweather or Miller Mealy,
+my heart would break."</p>
+
+<p>In truth the little couple had made many attempts at pushing their
+fortune in the village; and had failed, because it was no easy problem
+to find a trade to suit poor Wattie. A friendly cobbler had taught him
+how to make boots and shoes, new soling and mending; and he once had the
+courage to suspend over his door the sign of a shoemaker's shop. Then
+the good wives of Langaffer did really give him orders for tiny slippers
+for their little ones to toddle about in. But, alas! ere the work was
+completed and sent home, the little feet had got time to trot about a
+good deal, and had far outgrown the brand-new shoes; and poor Wattie
+acquired the character of a tardy tradesman. "So shoemaking won't do,"
+he had said to Mattie. "If only the other folk would remain as little as
+we are!"</p>
+
+<p>In spite of this, Wattie and Mattie not only continued to be liked by
+their neighbours, but in time grew to be highly respected by all who
+knew them. Wattie could talk a great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> deal, and could give a reason for
+everything; and his dwarf figure might be seen of an evening sitting on
+the edge of the bridge wall, surrounded by a group of village worthies,
+whilst his shrill little voice rose high above theirs, discussing the
+affairs of Langaffer. And little Mattie was the very echo of little
+Wattie. What <i>he</i> said <i>she</i> repeated on his authority in many a
+half-hour's gossip with the good wives by the village well.</p>
+
+<p>Now it happened that one day the homely community of Langaffer was
+startled by sudden and alarming tidings. A traveller, hastening on foot
+through the village, asked the first person he met, "What news of the
+war?"</p>
+
+<p>"What war?" returned the simple peasant in some surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, have you really heard nothing of the great armies marching about
+all over the country, attacking, besieging and fighting in pitched
+battles&mdash;the king and all his knights and soldiers against the enemies
+of the country&mdash;ah, and it is not over yet! But I wonder to find all so
+tranquil here in the midst of such troublous times!" And then the
+stranger passed on; and his words fell on the peaceful hamlet like a
+stone thrown into the bosom of a tranquil lake.</p>
+
+<p>At once there was a general commotion and excitement among the village
+folk. "Could the news be true? How dreadful if the enemy were indeed to
+come and burn down their homesteads, and ravage their crops, and kill
+them every one with their swords!"</p>
+
+<p>That night the gossip lasted a long time on Langaffer Bridge. Wattie's
+friends, the miller and the grocer, the tailor and the shoemaker, and
+big Farmer Fairweather spoke highly of the king and his faithful
+knights, and clenched their fists, and raised their voices to an angry
+pitch at the mention of the enemy's name. And little Wattie behaved like
+the rest of them, strutted about, and doubled up his tiny hands, and
+proclaimed what he should do if Langaffer were attacked&mdash;and "if he were
+only a little bigger!" Whereupon the neighbours laughed and held their
+sides, and cried aloud, "Well done, Wattie!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>But the following evening brought more serious tidings. Shortly before
+nightfall a rider, mounted on a sweltering steed, arrived at the village
+inn, all out of breath, to announce that the army was advancing, and
+that the General of the Forces called upon every householder in
+Langaffer to furnish food and lodging for the soldiers.</p>
+
+<p>"What! <i>Soldiers</i> quartered on us!" cried the good people of Langaffer.
+"Who ever heard the like?"</p>
+
+<p>"They shall not come to <i>my</i> house!" exclaimed Farmer Fairweather
+resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, neighbour Fairweather!" shouted half a dozen voices, "and thou hast
+such barns and lofts, and such very fine stables, and cowsheds, thou art
+the very one who canst easily harbour the soldiers."</p>
+
+<p>"As for <i>me</i>," cried the miller, "I have barely room for my meal-sacks!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, plenty of room!" screamed the others, "and flour to make bread for
+the troopers, and bran for the horses!"</p>
+
+<p>"But it falls very hard on poor people like us!" cried the weaver, the
+tinker, the cobbler and tailor; upon which little Wattie raised his
+voice and began, "Shame on ye, good neighbours! Do ye grudge hospitality
+to the warriors who go forth to shed their blood in our defence? Every
+man, who has strength of body and limb, ought to feel it an honour to
+afford food and shelter to the army of the land!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Thy</i> advice is cheap, Wattie!" cried several voices sarcastically,
+"thou and thy tiny wife escape all this trouble finely. For the general
+would as soon dream of quartering a soldier on dwarfs as on the sparrows
+that live on the housetops!"</p>
+
+<p>"And what if we are small," retorted Wattie, waxing scarlet, "we have
+never shirked from our duty yet, and never intend to do so."</p>
+
+<p>This boast of the little man's had the effect of silencing some of the
+most dissatisfied; and then the people of Langaffer dispersed for the
+night, every head being full of the morrow's preparations.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, Wattie dear," said Mattie to her husband, when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> two were
+retiring to sleep in their cosy little house, "we may bless ourselves
+this night that we are not reckoned amongst the big people, and that our
+cottage is so small no full-grown stranger would try to enter it."</p>
+
+<p>"But we must do something, Mattie dear," said Wattie. "You can watch the
+women washing and cooking all day to-morrow, whilst I encourage the men
+in the market-place and on the bridge. These are great times, Mattie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed they are, Wattie dear." And so saying, the little couple fell
+fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning Langaffer village presented a lively picture of
+bustle and excitement. Soldiers in gaudy uniforms, and with gay-coloured
+banners waving in the breeze, marched in to the sound of trumpet and
+drum. How their spears and helmets glittered in the sunshine, and what a
+neighing and prancing their steeds made in the little market-square! The
+men and women turned out to receive them, the children clapped their
+hands with delight, and the village geese cackled loudly to add to the
+stir.</p>
+
+<p>Wattie was there looking on, with his hands in his pockets. But nobody
+heeded him now. They were all too busy, running here, running there,
+hastening to and fro, carrying long-swords and shields, holding horses'
+heads, stamping, tramping, scolding and jesting. Little Wattie was more
+than once told to stand aside, and more than once got pushed about and
+mixed up with the throng of idle children, whose juvenile curiosity kept
+them spell-bound, stationed near the village inn.</p>
+
+<p>Wattie began to feel lonely in the midst of the commotion. A humiliating
+sense of his own weakness and uselessness crept over him; and the poor
+little dwarf turned away from it all, and wandered out of the village,
+far away through the meadows, and into a lonely wood.</p>
+
+<p>On and on he went, unconscious of the distance, till night closed in,
+when, heartsick and weary, he flung his little body down at the foot of
+a majestic oak, and covered his face with his hands.</p>
+
+<p>He had not lain long when he was startled by a sound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> close at hand; a
+sigh, much deeper than his own, and a half-suppressed moan&mdash;what could
+it be?</p>
+
+<p>In an instant Wattie was on his feet, peering to right and left, trying
+to discover whence those signs of distress proceeded.</p>
+
+<p>The moon had just risen, and by her pale light he fancied he saw
+something glitter among the dried leaves of the forest. Cautiously
+little Wattie crept closer; and there, to his astonishment, lay extended
+the form of a knight in armour. He rested on his elbow, and his head was
+supported by his arm, and his face, which was uncovered, wore an
+expression of sadness and anxiety. He gazed with an air of calm dignity
+rather than surprise on the dwarf, when the latter, after walking once
+or twice round him, cried out, "Noble knight, noble knight, pray what is
+your grief, and can I do aught to relieve it? Say, wherefore these
+groans and sighs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Foes and traitors, sorrow and shame!" returned the warrior. "But tell
+me, young man, canst thou show me the road to Langaffer?"</p>
+
+<p>"That I can, noble sir," answered Wattie, impressed by the stranger's
+tone. "Do I not dwell in Langaffer myself!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then perhaps, young man, thou knowest the Castle of Ravenspur?"</p>
+
+<p>"The ruined tower of Count Colin of Ravenspur!" cried Wattie, "why, that
+is close to Langaffer. Our village folk call it 'the fortress' still,
+although wild and dismantled since the time it was forsaken by&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Name not Count Colin to me!" cried the knight, impatiently. "The base
+traitor that left his own land to join hands with the enemy! His sable
+plume shall ne'er again wave in his own castle-yard!... But come,
+hasten, young man, and guide me straight to Ravenspur. Our men, you say,
+are encamped at Langaffer?"</p>
+
+<p>"That they are," returned Wattie; "well-nigh every house is filled with
+them. They arrived in high spirits this morning; and doubtless, by this
+time, are sleeping as heavily as they were carousing an hour ago."</p>
+
+<p>"All the better," cried the knight, "for it will be a different<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> sort of
+sleep some of them may have ere the morrow's setting sun glints through
+the stems of these forest trees! And now, let us hasten to Ravenspur."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he drew himself up to his full height, lifted his sword from
+the ground and hung it on his side, and strode away with Wattie, looking
+all the while like a great giant in company of a puny dwarf.</p>
+
+<p>As they emerged from the forest Wattie pointed with his finger across
+the plain to the village of Langaffer, and then to a hill overhanging
+it, crowned by a fortress which showed in the distance its chiselled
+outlines against the evening sky. An hour's marching across the country
+brought them close to the dismantled castle. The moonbeams depicted
+every grey stone overgrown with moss and ivy, and the rank weeds choking
+the apertures which once had been windows.</p>
+
+<p>"An abode for the bat and the owl," remarked Wattie, "but, brave sir,
+you cannot pass the night here. Pray&mdash;pray come to my tiny house in the
+village, and rest there till the morning dawns."</p>
+
+<p>"I accept thy hospitality, young man," said the warrior, "but first thou
+canst render me a service. Thou art little and light. Canst clamber up
+to yonder stone where the raven sits, and tell me what thou beholdest
+far away to the west?" Whereupon Wattie, who was agile enough, and
+anxious to help the stranger, began to climb up, stone by stone, the
+outer wall of the ruined fortress. A larger man might have felt giddy
+and insecure; but he, with his tiny figure, sprang from ledge to ledge
+so swiftly, holding firmly by the tufts of grass and the trailing ivy,
+that ere he had time to think of danger, he had reached the spot where,
+a moment before, a grim-looking raven had been keeping solemn custody.
+Here the stone moved, and Wattie fancied he heard something rattle as he
+set his foot upon it. The raven had now perched herself on a yet higher
+eminence, on a piece of the old coping-stone of the castle parapet; and
+she flapped her great ugly wings, and cawed and croaked, as if
+displeased at this intrusion on her solitude. Wattie followed the
+ill-omened bird, and drove her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> away from her vantage-ground, where he
+himself now found a better footing from which to make his observations.</p>
+
+<p>"To the west," he cried, "lights like camp-fires, all in a row far
+against the horizon!"</p>
+
+<p>This was all he had to describe; and it seemed enough to satisfy the
+armed stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, young man," he said, when Wattie had, after a perilous
+descent, gained the castle-yard once more, "I shall be thy guest for the
+night."</p>
+
+<p>A thrill of pride and pleasure stole through Wattie's breast as he
+thought of the honour of receiving the tall warrior. But the next
+instant his heart was filled with anxiety as he remembered the tiny
+dimensions of his home, Mattie and himself.</p>
+
+<p>All these hours his little wife had passed in sore perplexity because of
+his absence. At the accustomed time for supper she had spread the
+snow-white napkin on the stool that served them for a table. She had
+piled up a saucerful of beef and lentils for Wattie, and filled him an
+egg-cupful of home-brewed ale to the brim. And yet he never came!</p>
+
+<p>What could ever have happened? A tiny little person like Wattie might
+have been trampled to death in the crowd of great soldiers that now
+filled Langaffer! A horse's kick at the village inn might have killed
+him! He might have been pushed into the stream and been drowned. Oh, the
+horrible fancies that vaguely hovered round poor Mattie's fireside! No
+wonder the little woman sat there with her face pale as ashes, her teeth
+chattering, and her tiny hands clasped tightly together.</p>
+
+<p>And thus Wattie found her when he returned at last, bringing the
+stranger knight along with him. But Mattie was so overjoyed to see her
+Wattie safe home, and held her arms so tightly round his neck, that he
+could scarcely get his story told.</p>
+
+<p>Little indeed did the good people of Langaffer, that night, asleep in
+their beds, dream of the great doings under the modest roof of Wattie
+and Mattie; all the furniture they possessed drawn out and joined
+together, and covered with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> the whole household stock of mattresses,
+quilts and blankets, to form a couch for their guest's repose.</p>
+
+<p>The knight had eaten all Mattie's store of newly-baked bread, and now
+only begged for a few hours' rest, and a little more water to quench his
+thirst when he should waken. As he took off his helmet with its great
+white plume, and handed it to Wattie, the latter staggered under its
+weight, and Mattie cried out, "Oh, Wattie, how beautiful, how noble it
+must be to ride o'er hill and dale in such a gallant armour!"</p>
+
+<p>Then thrice to the Fairy Well in the meadow beyond the bridge of
+Langaffer must Wattie and Mattie run to fetch water, the best in the
+land, clear as crystal, and cold as ice; for it required fully three
+times what they could carry to fill the great stone pitcher for the
+sleeping warrior.</p>
+
+<p>And the third time the two came to the spring, behold, the water bubbled
+and flashed with the colours of the rainbow, and by the light of the
+moon they caught a glimpse of something bright reflected on its surface.
+They glanced round, and there a lovely, radiant being sat by, with a
+tiny phial in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold here, little people!" she cried, "let me drop some cordial into
+the pitcher."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, nay!" screamed Mattie.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay!" cried Wattie sternly, "the drink must be as pure as crystal."</p>
+
+<p>"For your noble warrior," added the fairy rising; "but the beverage will
+taste the sweeter with the drops that I put into it." And so saying, she
+stretched forth her hand, and shook the contents of her tiny flask into
+the pitcher; and her gay laugh rang merrily and scornfully through the
+midnight air.</p>
+
+<p>Wattie and Mattie, half-frightened, hastened homewards; and lo, when
+crossing the bridge, an old hag overtook them, and, as she hurried past,
+she uttered a spiteful laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"There is something strange in the air to-night," said Mattie. "See that
+weird old woman, and hark, Wattie, how Oscar, the miller's dog, barks at
+the moon."</p>
+
+<p>"Mattie," cried Wattie resolutely, "let us empty our pitcher<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> into the
+mill-race, and go back once again, and draw afresh! 'Tis safer."</p>
+
+<p>So the tiny couple, weary and worn out as they were, trudged all the way
+to the Fairy Well once more to "make sure" that the stranger knight
+should come to no harm through their fault.</p>
+
+<p>And this time the water flowed clear and cold, but with no varied tints
+flashing through it. Only Wattie seemed to hear the stream rushing over
+the pebbles like a soft, lisping voice. "Hush! listen! what does it
+say?"</p>
+
+<p>"To me," cried Mattie, "it whispers, 'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' But
+that has no sense, Wattie dear. Come, let us go!"</p>
+
+<p>"And to me the same!" cried Wattie, "'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' That
+means something."</p>
+
+<p>It was now early dawn as the two passed over the bridge and by the
+miller's house, and they could see the fish floating <i>dead</i> on the
+surface of the mill-race, and poor Oscar the dog lying stretched on the
+bank, with his tongue hanging out stiff and cold. And silently wondering
+at all these strange things the little couple finished their task.</p>
+
+<p>When the hour of noon arrived, the din of battle raged wild and fierce
+round the village of Langaffer. The enemies of the land had arrived from
+the west with false Colin at their head, and were met by the soldiers in
+the plain, below the Castle of Ravenspur. With a loud war-cry on either
+side foe rushed upon foe, and the fight began. Horsemen reeled over and
+tumbled from their chargers, blood flowed freely on every side, shrieks
+rent the air; but the strength of the combatants appeared equal. At last
+Count Colin and his men pressed closer on the royal army, and forced
+them back by degrees towards Langaffer.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed now that the enemy's troops were gaining; and groans of
+despair broke forth from the villagers and countryfolk who watched with
+throbbing hearts the issue of the day.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the knight who had been little Wattie's guest dashed
+forward, mounted on a snow-white charger, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> armour of polished steel
+glistening, and his fair plume waving in the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>"Back with the faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the
+traitor!" he cried, and rode to the front rank himself.</p>
+
+<p>His word and action wrought like an enchantment on the soldiers. They
+rallied round the white-plumed stranger, who soon was face to face with
+false Colin. And then the hostile bands, with their rebel commander,
+were in turn driven back, and back, and back across the plain, and right
+under the beetling towers of the fortress of Ravenspur.</p>
+
+<p>Now Wattie was standing near the ruin, and saw the combat, and heard the
+sounds of the warriors' voices reverberating from the bend of the hill.
+How his heart bounded at the brave knight's battle-cry: "<i>Back with the
+faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the traitor!</i>" And then
+indeed the blood seemed to stand still in his veins when he heard false
+Colin exclaim, "Oh, had I the silver sword of Ravenspur!"</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Wattie remembered the raven, and the one loose stone in the castle
+wall.</p>
+
+<p>In another instant his tiny figure was grappling with the trailing ivy
+on the outer fencework of the fortress.</p>
+
+<p>And now he is seen by false Colin, and now the archers bend their bows,
+and the arrows fly past him on every side. But Wattie has hurled down a
+stone into the old courtyard, and, from behind it, has drawn forth a
+silver-hilted brand.</p>
+
+<p>"He is so small that our arrows all miss him!" cry the archers. "Nay,"
+cries false Colin, "but he bears the enchanted weapon of Ravenspur! Take
+it from him, my men, and fetch it to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Count Colin shall have the <i>point</i> of the sword," cries Wattie, "but
+the silver handle is for the white-plumed knight!" and, running round
+the ledge of the castle wall to the highest turret, he flings the
+shining weapon down amongst the men of Langaffer.</p>
+
+<p>And now there was a fresh charge made on the enemy, and the "unknown
+warrior," armed with the newly-found talisman, stood face to face, hand
+to hand, with the traitor.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span>... <i>Count Colin fell</i>, pierced through his armour of mail by the sword
+that once had been his! The enemy fled, and the victory was won.</p>
+
+<p>Then the stranger knight undid his visor, and took off his armour; and,
+as his golden locks floated down his shoulders, the soldiers cried out,
+"'Tis the King! 'tis the King!"</p>
+
+<p>Wattie was called forth by the King of all the Land, and was bidden to
+take the knightly helmet with its waving plume, and the shield, and the
+silver sword, and to wear them. The men of Langaffer laughed aloud; but
+Wattie did as he was commanded, and put on the knightly armour and
+weapons.</p>
+
+<p>And, behold at that moment he grew up into a great, strong warrior,
+worthy to wield them! He was knighted then and there, "Sir Walter of
+Ravenspur," and presented with the castle on the hill, which the king's
+own army repaired ere they quitted Langaffer.</p>
+
+<p>And then the King of all the Land sent a fair white robe, the size of
+the Queen's ladies'; and when little Mattie put this on, she grew up
+tall and stately to fit it. And, for many and many a year to come, she
+was known as the "Good Dame Martha, the faithful lady of Sir Walter of
+Ravenspur."</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_II" id="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_II"></a>II.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Kingfisher.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>Martin was a gardener, and lived in a cottage in the midst of a hamlet
+near Langaffer. All the country for miles round belonged to the old king
+and queen; and their beautiful palace was hard by the village, in a
+stately grove of elms and beech trees. Before the windows extended a
+lovely garden, which was kept in order by Martin. Here he toiled every
+day from morning-dawn till evening-dusk; and, in his own churlish
+manner, he had come to love the flowers that cost him so much labour.</p>
+
+<p>Like many another honest gardener, however, Martin found it very hard
+that he could not have his own way in this world, even as concerned his
+plants. For instance, the old monarch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> would come out every morning
+after breakfast in his dressing-gown and slippers, and would admire the
+bloom; but the very flowers he appeared to prize most were those that
+cost Martin least trouble, and which the gardener in his heart despised
+as cheap and vulgar.</p>
+
+<p>Then the queen and the young ladies were wont to appear on the terrace
+before dinner, with their little lapdogs, and call out for posies. They
+must have the finest tea-roses and moss-roses that were only in bud.
+Martin might grumble about to-morrow's "poor show," and point to some
+rare full-blown beauties&mdash;but no, they just desired those which were not
+yet opened.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, there grew here and there in the garden a plant or shrub,
+which, Martin considered, would have been better removed; especially one
+large lauristinus, which, he declared, "destroyed all symmetry," and
+"hindered the flowers about it from enjoying the sunshine."</p>
+
+<p>But the old king obstinately opposed changes of this sort, and strictly
+forbade his gardener, on any pretext whatever, to remove the
+lauristinus; as it was well known at the court that for generations a
+spell was connected with this special shrub, and that therefore the less
+it was meddled with the better.</p>
+
+<p>All this interference tended to sour poor Martin's temper; but he
+himself declared it was nothing compared to the aggravating behaviour of
+Prince Primus, commonly called "Lord Lackaday," the king's eldest son.</p>
+
+<p>This young nobleman, who was renowned far and wide for his indolent
+habits, sauntered forth every day with a little boy carrying his
+fishing-tackle, away through the lovely gardens, without once turning
+his head to behold the brilliant parterres of "calceolarias,
+pelargoniums, petunias and begonias," or to inhale the sweet-scented
+heliotropes,&mdash;away through the park, and on to the river; for my Lord
+Lackaday's sole pastime was angling.</p>
+
+<p>"Humph! there he goes with his tackle," Martin would murmur, turning
+from tying up his carnations to stare after him. "If old Martin, now,
+were to spend <i>his</i> days lying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> stretched <i>his</i> full length on the
+grass, with a rod dangling in the water before him, what would the world
+come to? And where would <i>you</i> be, my beauties?" he added, continuing
+his occupation. "Hanging your lovely heads, my darlings!" And so he
+grumbled and mumbled in an undertone to himself the whole livelong day,
+until he went home to his supper at night; when his good wife, Ursula,
+would endeavour to cheer him with her hearty welcome.</p>
+
+<p>One evening Martin went with his clay pipe and his pewter ale-pot in his
+hand to the village inn, to divert himself listening to the general
+gossip which was carried on there between the host and the little group
+of customers&mdash;weavers, tinkers, tailors, blacksmiths and labourers.
+To-night they talked of the rich old king and queen, and Lord Lackaday,
+and all the gay princesses, knights and ladies, who lived at the court,
+and rode by in such splendid carriages, in such gorgeous attire.</p>
+
+<p>"They eat out of golden dishes," said the tailor, "and the very nails in
+their boots are silver!"</p>
+
+<p>Martin knew as much about the court as any present; but he was in one of
+his silent humours this evening.</p>
+
+<p>"The princess gave a hundred crowns," cried the blacksmith, "for a
+one-eyed lapdog, and My Lord Lackaday&mdash;Prince Primus, I mean&mdash;two
+hundred for a certain white fly for his angling-rod&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And he never gave <i>me</i> a hundred <i>groats</i>," blurted out Martin, who
+could not stand any reference to the prince in question.</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon the conversation took another turn; wages were discussed, the
+weaver and the ploughman "compared notes"; and, as for Martin, it was
+the unanimous opinion of the whole company that he, at least, ought to
+strike&mdash;to insist on an increase of pay, or refuse to labour any more as
+the king's own gardener.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, the next morning Martin watched and waited till his royal
+master came sidling along the smooth gravel walk in his embroidered
+slippers, with his dressing-gown floating about him, sniffing with
+good-humoured satisfaction the sweet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> fragrance of the standard roses,
+that formed a phalanx on either side.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got to tell your Majesty," began Martin abruptly, "that, unless
+your Majesty raises my salary, I can't work any more in your Majesty's
+garden."</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon the old king started back all astonished; then laughed so
+heartily that he brought on a fit of coughing.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty may be highly amused," grumbled Martin, "but I've said my
+say, and I mean to stick to it!"</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose your salary <i>ain't</i> raised," began the king, trying his
+best to look serious, "what then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll go!" cried Martin; and, so saying, he flung his spade with
+such force into the soil, that it stood upright.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my man, we'll give you a week to come to your senses," replied
+the monarch, as, gathering up his skirts, he shuffled away down the
+garden walk.</p>
+
+<p>When Martin arrived home he found a great fuss going on in his little
+cottage. All the good wives of the hamlet were gathered about the
+door-porch; and, when he entered, lo, and behold, Dame Ursula held in
+her arms the dearest little beauty of a baby-boy!</p>
+
+<p>She wept for joy, as she saw how pleased her goodman was with his new
+little son; but when he related to her all that had passed between
+himself and his master, the old king, she clasped her hands together,
+and began to weep and wail for sorrow, "because," as she said, "it was a
+very bad time to be 'out of work,' and an evil omen for the child.
+However, we'll have a real nice christening, Martin dear, and invite all
+the <i>good fairies</i>. And next week you will go on with your gardening
+again, you know, just as if nothing had happened."</p>
+
+<p>So they had as grand a christening as people in their circumstances
+could afford. The baby was called Lionel, "which," remarked some of the
+neighbours, "was quite too fine a name for a common gardener's son."
+Only one bright little, gay little fairy could be found who had time to
+come to the christening. But she was a good-natured little thing, that
+somehow always found exactly time to render a great many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> kindly
+services. She willingly became Lionel's godmother, and promised to help
+him through life as far as she could. "However," added the little lady,
+with a sigh, "there's many a wicked fairy in the land may try to throw a
+shadow across his path."</p>
+
+<p>Now the day after the christening, and after the fairy's departure, the
+troubles in little Lionel's home appeared to set in. Martin's leather
+money-bag hung empty, and there was very little bread in the house for
+his wife to eat; and this Saturday night no wages were coming due. Oh,
+how he yearned for Monday morning, that he might go at his digging
+again; and how anxiously he hoped that all might continue as before!</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the week dragged out, the lagging hours weighing like chains on
+the heart of the honest yeoman, who was not accustomed to idleness.</p>
+
+<p>At last the Monday morning dawned, with rustling of leaves, and
+twittering of birds; and Martin flung his clothes on, and hastened forth
+to the royal garden.</p>
+
+<p>Ah, me! the place looked neglected since only last week. The roses and
+carnations hung their heads for want of a drop of water, and the leaves
+of the fuchsias had mostly turned white. Weeds were staring out boldly
+right and left; and the box-borders, that had ever been so trim and
+neat, just appeared as if all the cats and dogs in the country-side had
+gathered in on purpose to tear them to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>Martin sped to the toolhouse for his watering-can, rake and hoe; but he
+was somewhat dismayed indeed to find his implements broken in pieces,
+and lying scattered about.</p>
+
+<p>What could it mean?</p>
+
+<p>He took a few strides towards the "lime walk," and gazed up at the
+castle windows. The lattices were closed, and all was silent. But then,
+of course, the old king and queen and My Lord Lackaday, and all the
+princesses would be sleeping in their beds at this early hour of the
+morning. Martin must wait until some human creature appeared to tell him
+how the garden tools came to be broken and scattered.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span>In the meantime he trudged back to his own domain among the flowers, and
+passed the dreary moments picking off the withered leaves. By-and-by a
+light footstep was audible, and "Impudent Jack the jockey" arrived
+whistling, with a heavy-jowled bull-dog at his heels, and stamped right
+across the garden parterres, switching off the carnation-tops with his
+cutty-whip.</p>
+
+<p>"Holloa there, man! Mind what you're about!" cried Martin foaming with
+wrath. "I wish His Majesty the old king saw you."</p>
+
+<p>"The old king!" cried Jack, standing still, and gazing at Martin with
+some amazement. "Why, Martin, the old king is <i>dead</i> a week to-morrow,
+and My Lord Lackaday is master now. And, as for the garden, my man, you
+may set your mind at rest about that, for his new Royal Majesty has
+given orders that the whole concern is to be turned into a lake for His
+Majesty to fish in. Now!" And, so saying, <i>impudent</i> Jack that he was,
+continued his way, whistling louder, and switching off more carnation
+tops than before.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Martin was utterly dazed. Could it be true, or was it only a
+cunning invention of Impudent Jack the jockey's?</p>
+
+<p>Alas, the prolonged stillness that reigned in the park, and the forlorn
+aspect of the castle windows, made his heart sink like lead within him.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a postern door banged, and then a slow, dawdling step was heard
+in the distance, and Martin perceived, approaching the "lime walk," My
+Lord Lackaday, with his fishing-rod and tackle. There were two or three
+young pages with him bearing baskets and nets; and he overheard one of
+them say, "By-and-by your Majesty shall not have so far to go, once the
+new pond here is finished."</p>
+
+<p>This was more than Martin could endure. He dashed after the royal
+fisherman, and screamed forth, "Can it be true that the flower gardens
+are to be made a pond of? And how is your father's gardener then to get
+his living?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't bother us," drawled out the new king; "we don't like flowers, nor
+do we care whether you get a living or not!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span>The blood rushed to Martin's head, and a singing sound filled his ears.
+"A pond!" he cried. "A common fishpond! And how am I to earn my living
+now? And what is to become of my wife and little Lionel?"</p>
+
+<p>In his anger and despair, Martin sprang blindly forward, and kicked the
+standard roses, and wrung the necks of the beautiful purple iris that
+bloomed in the shade of some laurel bushes. His eye caught the
+spellbound lauristinus, and, forgetting his late good master's commands,
+he fell on it furiously with both hands, and tore, and wrenched it from
+the earth.</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly, as the roots and fibres of the ill-omened plant with a
+crackling noise were released from the soil, a wonderful being, which
+had been buried underneath it&mdash;a wicked fairy with an evil eye&mdash;uncoiled
+herself, and rose up straight and tall before him. She gave a malicious
+smile, and simpered out flattering words to the half-bewildered
+labourer.</p>
+
+<p>"A thousand thanks, O noble knight, for relieving a spell-bound lady!
+Pray let me know, is there aught that I can do to indicate my
+gratitude?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me how I can earn my daily bread?" stammered forth poor Martin.</p>
+
+<p>"Daily bread!" cried the fairy, tossing her head contemptuously. "I can
+tell thee, gallant sir, where to find gold, ay, more real yellow gold
+than the king and all his court ever dreamed of! I have not been pent up
+under that lauristinus all these years for nothing! I know a secret or
+two."</p>
+
+<p>Martin's eyes grew dilated, and his breath came and went, and he seized
+the fairy by the wrist. "Answer me," he gasped out hoarsely, "where's
+all that gold to be got? No palavering, or I'll bury you up again, and
+plant that same lauristinus-bush on your head!"</p>
+
+<p>The fairy rolled her evil eye, and gave a forced laugh. "At the back of
+yonder mountain!" she cried, pointing with her thin, long hand to a hill
+whose summit overlooked the park. "The way thou must take is through the
+forest, till thou comest to the charcoal-burners' huts. Then follow a
+crooked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> path leading to the left, round to the back of the hill. Thou
+wilt find an opening in the earth. <i>The gold is there!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Martin scarcely waited for the last words. He loosened his grasp of the
+fairy's wrist, and hastened full speed home to his wife and child.</p>
+
+<p>"To a hole at the back of the mountain to look for gold!" Poor Dame
+Ursula was sorely puzzled when her good-man arrived all excited, and
+bade her make a bundle of what clothes she possessed, bring the baby
+Lionel, and follow him to push their fortune at the back of the
+mountain.</p>
+
+<p>Now at the back of the mountain there was a deep mine where many people,
+men, women and children, were searching after, and finding, gold. Only
+they were obliged to descend deep, deep into the bowels of the earth,
+where all was dark, save for the pale flickering of little lanterns,
+which they were allowed to carry down.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Dame Ursula wept bitterly at the notion of taking her darling
+little Lionel into such a dismal pit. But there was no help for it; down
+they must go, and live like the rest at the bottom of the gloomy mine,
+whilst Martin, with a pickaxe, wrought for gold.</p>
+
+<p>... The days passed, and the weeks passed, and the months, and the
+<i>years</i>! And little Lionel was growing up amidst the dross. His long
+hair was filthy, and matted together, and his skin was always stained
+with the clay. His parents could scarcely know whether he was a lovely
+boy or not. It was so dark down there, that his mother could not show
+his blue eyes to the neighbours; yet she ever kept him by her side, for
+fear of losing him, and also because she dreaded he might learn bad ways
+from the gold-diggers&mdash;to curse and swear like them, and tell lies, and
+steal other people's treasures.</p>
+
+<p>And poor Martin dug from year-end to year-end, in the weary hope of some
+day lighting on a great heap of wealth.</p>
+
+<p>The time dragged slowly on, and Lionel's father was getting old and
+weak, and his pickaxe fell with feeble, quavering strokes into the
+earth; and Lionel's poor mother was growing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> blind with constantly
+peering after her son through the half-obscurity of their underground
+abode.</p>
+
+<p>Then one morning she missed him altogether, having mistaken for him
+another youth, whom she followed and then found with bitter anguish to
+be not her boy. Thus Lionel was alone; and he, too, searched for his
+mother, and, in so doing, became completely lost in the mine.</p>
+
+<p>On and on he wandered, through endless subterraneous corridors, until at
+last he spied a feeble glimmer before him. He never remembered to have
+been here before, or to have seen this light. It was the entrance to the
+mine.</p>
+
+<p>There was a large basket, with two old men standing in it; and they told
+Lionel that they were about to be taken up into the daylight.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, let me go with you!" cried Lionel. "Take me also to the daylight,
+if only for a little while!"</p>
+
+<p>They hoisted him into the basket; and immediately several unseen hands
+from above drew all three right up, out of the dark gold mine. The pale,
+thin ray grew stronger, broader, brighter as they ascended; and, at the
+mouth of the mine, a perfect flood of golden sunshine overwhelmed
+Lionel, who now held his hands across his brow, and felt painfully
+dazzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Young man," said a voice beside him, in mournful accents, "this upper
+air is not for thee. Go down again to the shady retreat to which thou
+art accustomed."</p>
+
+<p>It was an aged female that spoke; she sat on the ground all clad in a
+sooty garment.</p>
+
+<p>"Not for me!" cried Lionel, bursting into tears; "and why should it not
+be for me as well as for others?"</p>
+
+<p>But just at this instant a fairy-like thing in white glided past the
+youth, and whispered, "Heed her not, she is an evil genius! Hie thee,
+young man, for shelter to yonder wood; from its leafy shade thou canst
+behold the lovely earth with its verdant meadows, rich foliage and
+brilliant flowers, and the soft, fleecy clouds embracing one another in
+the azure sky overhead. Never fear, it is all for thee; thine eyes were
+meant to gaze on it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span>Lionel ran, and his young heart bounded within him for joy. He felt like
+some blind person who sees again for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>All through those dismal years down in the mine his mother had told him
+how lovely the sunshine was, and the soft green grass; and how pure and
+sweet the country air; but he had little dreamed it could be so
+delightful, so beautiful as this!</p>
+
+<p>The forest stood before him with its thousands of singing-birds, and its
+carpet of many-coloured leaves and wild flowers. He would enter in
+there.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a croaking sound from a branch overhead arrested his attention,
+and Lionel saw a great magpie staring down at him with dark, piercing
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Halt!" cried the magpie, "nor enter this wood upon the peril of thy
+life! Here are lions and tigers, bears and wolves, that will rend thee
+to pieces."</p>
+
+<p>He was startled and troubled for a moment; but at once his eye caught
+sight of a pretty little mocking-bird, that laughed like a human being,
+and shook its tiny head at him.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>She</i> doesn't believe you, anyhow," said Lionel to the magpie. "Nor
+will I." And he walked away right into the forest.</p>
+
+<p>As he went he stopped to examine the feathery-looking ferns, and the
+wondrous velvety moss that grew on the roots of the trees. By-and-by a
+rushing noise was heard, which became louder as Lionel proceeded. Could
+that be the wild beasts of which the magpie had warned him? He stood
+still with fast-beating heart and listened.</p>
+
+<p>But the thought of the fairy-like voice and the gay little mocking-bird
+encouraged him, and he pressed forward to see what that rushing noise
+could mean.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant found young Lionel by the side of a majestic waterfall,
+standing with parted lips and rounded eyes, gazing before him in a
+bewilderment of admiration. The cascades leaped laughingly from rock to
+rock, and were lost in a limpid pool; then flowed away as a gentle,
+rippling brook.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span>"How lovely!" gasped Lionel; and he bent forward, and looked into the
+placid surface of the water in the rocky basin. But what did he behold
+there? A vision that appalled him, and caused him to start back
+abashed&mdash;<i>himself</i>, all grimy, with his matted hair and besmeared face!
+For he had still the dress of the gold mine clinging to him; and he wept
+for shame to feel himself so ugly in a spot where all was beauty.</p>
+
+<p>Lionel stood and gazed on the silver stream with his wondering eyes; he
+observed the little birdies come down quite fearlessly to quench their
+thirst, and lave their tiny bodies in the cooling drops. Then he, too,
+trembling at his own temerity, bathed himself in the crystal pool, and
+came forth fair and shining, with his sunny locks waving on his
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>And now he continued his path through the forest with a happy heart;
+for, what if his garments <i>were</i> old and mud-stained, he felt that he
+himself was fresh and comely!</p>
+
+<p>Young Lionel gathered a nosegay as he went, harebells and violets,
+oxlips and anemones; thinking all the while of the tales his mother oft
+had told him about his father's skill in flowers. And heartily he
+laughed at the frolics of the cunning little squirrels he spied for the
+first time among the branches over his head.</p>
+
+<p>At last he heard the echo of many voices and the sounds of merry-making,
+and paused, hesitating and timid. Whence came all this laughter and
+these cries of mirth? Surely not from the voice of one being, a
+sallow-looking female attired in gaudy garments, like a gipsy, who now
+came along his path.</p>
+
+<p>"Turn, noble sir, and come with me," she cried, "and I will tell thee
+thy fortune!"</p>
+
+<p>But Lionel liked not her artful eyes, so he only said, "What sounds are
+those?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are the inhabitants of the country," answered the female vaguely;
+"but beware of them, young stranger, they will surely take thy life."</p>
+
+<p>"But I must see them," cried Lionel, "their voices please my ears! They
+seem to be very happy."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span>"Such happiness is not for thee, young man!" shrieked the fortune-teller
+angrily. "Be warned, and return from whence thou camest; else these
+country clowns, when they behold thy miserable attire, will stone thee
+to death, as a thief or a highwayman."</p>
+
+<p>Lionel was shocked; yet the leer of the gipsy's eye made him think of
+the lying magpie. So he left her, and hastened on, and, behold! there
+stood before him the village maypole, bedecked with roses and ribbons,
+and a living garland of youths and fair maidens dancing round it.</p>
+
+<p>They had a lovely little fairy-body in their midst, and were entreating
+her to be their "May-Queen," but laughingly she broke away from them
+all, and declared she had her duties elsewhere&mdash;other young folks in
+another hamlet to render happy. She nodded in a friendly, familiar way
+to Lionel, who waited, shyly looking on, and motioned to him with her
+little wand to join the party round the May-pole.</p>
+
+<p>Far from repulsing him with sneers and jests, or "stoning him to death,"
+the young people were very kind to Lionel; and, taking his hand,
+welcomed him into their chain of dancers.</p>
+
+<p>And when the frolics were at an end, and each one satiated with
+happiness and excitement, they brought him to their festal board, and
+gave him to eat and drink.</p>
+
+<p>Then the good old wives of the hamlet gathered round, and began to
+question the stranger youth, inquiring his name and whence he came. When
+they heard that he was called "Lionel," and his father "Martin," they
+held up their hands with astonishment, and nodded their heads to one
+another, and cried out, "Dame Ursula's son! Dame Ursula's babe, that was
+christened Lionel, the day Lord Lackaday became king! Well to be sure!
+And where is Dame Ursula now? And Martin the gardener? And where have
+they hidden themselves all these long years?" cried the old wives of the
+hamlet in a breath.</p>
+
+<p>But Lionel wept bitterly, as he thought of his mother and father far
+down in the bottom of the gold-mine; and at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> same time he was
+ashamed to tell the village people where they were.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go," he cried, "and bring them here! I must be off to search for
+them, away ... away ... at the back of the mountain."</p>
+
+<p>Then the old wives insisted on his waiting and resting the night there;
+for he had need of sleep, he was so tired after walking and bathing,
+dancing and weeping. And they gave him a nice, spruce, dimity-curtained
+bed to sleep in; and presented him with a beautiful suit of new garments
+for the morrow; "for," they said, "they had been at his christening, and
+it was easy to see that the good Dame Ursula, wherever she had been all
+these years, had brought her boy up well."</p>
+
+<p>Lionel was fatigued, and shut his eyes at once for the night; but, ere
+slumber overtook him, he heard distinctly the old wives' gossip by his
+bedside.</p>
+
+<p>"What a shame it was," said they, "of My Lord Lackaday to turn away poor
+Martin as he did, and then transform the magnificent palace garden into
+a fishpond!"</p>
+
+<p>"But he was punished for it," whispered another. "They say an 'evil
+spell' hangs over his only child, the lovely princess&mdash;the 'Lady Lilias'
+as she is called. They say some creature from below the cursed fishpond
+is to marry her&mdash;some dreadful beast no doubt. And the king is in
+terror, and spends his time fishing there day and night."</p>
+
+<p>The words awakened a strange curiosity in Lionel's heart; they rang in
+his ears, and mingled with his dreams the whole night through; and it
+seemed to him as if he and his parents were, in some way, bound up with
+the fate of this poor young princess and her unhappy father, the king.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning he donned the brave new garments they had given
+him, and went forth to look at the park and the palace he had so often
+heard of, before starting back to the gold-mine.</p>
+
+<p>He discovered the royal entrance without assistance. But what was his
+surprise to see, crouched on the roadside near it, a being which looked
+this time just what she was, a wicked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> fairy with an evil eye! She
+uncoiled herself, and stood up, straight and tall, before him. She gave
+a malicious smile, and simpered forth these words: "Beware, young man,
+of entering in there! That is the royal demesne, and no stranger
+intrudes unpunished. None so poor and so mean as thou art dares be seen
+within those precincts."</p>
+
+<p>"My parents have taught me that <i>to tell lies is mean</i>! And thou hast
+told me enough!" cried Lionel, indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>At his words the creature vanished from before him; and on the spot
+where she had stood he saw an ugly bush of deadly nightshade.</p>
+
+<p>Then he boldly entered the royal park, and walked in thoughtful silence
+till the stone work of the ancient castle walls met his view. At one
+side was a venerable shady lime walk, and Lionel perceived a maiden
+slowly gliding down it, attired in white, with golden hair, much longer
+than his own, and eyes of an azure blue.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you the spellbound Lady Lilias?" asked Lionel. "And where is the
+lake that was once a lovely garden?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I dare not go there," sighed the maiden; "not even to cull the
+sweet white water-lilies I wish so much, because my father fears I may
+meet some creature from below the water. Didst thou ever hear the like?
+But I think I might go with thee," she added wistfully, taking Lionel's
+hand. "No vile creature can harm me when thou art by my side!"</p>
+
+<p>Her innocent, confiding words captivated Lionel's heart, and he
+exclaimed, "I will protect you, Lady Lilias, from every danger."</p>
+
+<p>Then she led him to the great artificial lake at the back of the royal
+mansion; and there, sure enough, lay the king stretched out his full
+length upon the bank, with his fishing-rod dangling in the water.</p>
+
+<p>Near the margin of the lake grew lovely white water-lilies, and the Lady
+Lilias stooped to gather them. But her father was all alarmed on
+beholding her approach the spot which fate had connected with so much
+danger for his child.</p>
+
+<p>"My daughter, my Lilias!" he cried out, "when I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> fished up the
+creature from below the lake that waits to marry thee, I will kill it,
+and then thou may'st wander as thou wilt. But oh, keep far from the
+water's edge, my child!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, here is a <i>Lion</i> will guard thy <i>Lily</i>, father dear," returned the
+girl laughing, and she presented young Lionel to the king.</p>
+
+<p>But, at this instant, a violent tugging was perceptible at the end of
+the monarch's angling-rod; and he rose in great excitement to draw in
+his line, which this time seemed to have hooked some extraordinary
+booty.</p>
+
+<p>Lionel ran forward, and assisted the king to land it.</p>
+
+<p>And what was the wondrous fish? A little tiny fairy-body all laughing
+and shining like a mermaid.</p>
+
+<p>"I have come," she began gaily, "from the bottom of the lake, but your
+Majesty need not fear that fair Lady Lilias will fall in love with an
+old fairy like me. Yet there stands one at her side, my godson, young
+Lionel, old Martin the gardener's son, who has indeed come also from
+beneath the lake; and deeper down than I. For you must know that below
+your Majesty's feet, and below the royal palace and this park and pond,
+there are workmen grovelling sordidly for gold, and the danger is, that
+some fine morning both the palace and the hamlet may be undermined, and
+fall into the pit that they are digging."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," cried the king greatly relieved, "then my Lilias shall marry young
+Lionel! He is a goodly youth; and my heart shall be at rest about my
+daughter. And now, good Fairy, that I fear no longer an ugly monster for
+my child, I shall fish no more to-day, but inquire into these things,
+that threaten the safety of my kingdom!"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Lilias and "My Lord Lionel," as he was now called, were married at
+once; for the good fairy declared, <i>a good thing could never be done too
+soon</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The marriage was a grand one, as became a royal princess of the great
+house of Primus Lackaday; and immediately after the ceremony, by
+Lionel's desire, the young pair drove in a glass-coach, drawn by eight
+swift chargers, through the forest,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> Lilias bearing in her hands a large
+posy of water-lilies&mdash;away, past the cascade, and on, to the opening of
+the gold-mine, at the back of the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>An order was sent down in the basket, by a special messenger, bidding
+old Martin and Dame Ursula ascend to meet their Lionel and his noble
+bride.</p>
+
+<p>As it was, the poor old couple had been searching in anguish for their
+son; and now, weary and heavy-hearted, they had arrived just at the foot
+of the opening when the news came to them.</p>
+
+<p>Then the sudden reaction, and the sight of the brand-new silk and velvet
+garments Lionel sent down for them, almost killed them with joy. "'Tis
+my <i>Lionel's voice</i> I hear!" cried Dame Ursula as they were being drawn
+up in the basket.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah me, the odour of my flowers after twenty years!" sobbed out Martin,
+the tears trickling down his furrowed cheeks at the recognition of his
+favourites.</p>
+
+<p>And so they were all happy again; and Lionel's fortune was made,
+although his father found no heaps of gold.</p>
+
+<p>As for the king, <i>in three days</i> he was back to his fishing again, lying
+on the bank of the great pond, as happy as ever he was in the old times
+when he was only "My Lord Lackaday." He said the land was too much
+trouble for him; Lilias and Lionel might rule it as they thought fit.
+And so these two <i>really</i> carried out all <i>he</i> had promised to do.</p>
+
+<p>The good little fairy-body rarely appeared in the country after Lionel's
+wedding-day; for the people were all happy now, "and," as she declared,
+"had no need of her."</p>
+
+<p>And then it happened that one day at noontide, when the sun was shining
+overhead with a dazzling heat, and all the air was warm and drowsy, the
+king, who had been angling since early morning, without catching the
+smallest minnow, and had fallen fast asleep, lost his balance, and
+rolled down the sloping bank into the water, and disappeared. They
+dredged the lake for his body in vain. No trace of him was to be
+discovered, although they sent the most expert divers down to search.</p>
+
+<p>But, strange to say, every evening from that time forward,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> just about
+sunset, a little bird with plumage gay, called "<i>The Kingfisher</i>," might
+be seen to haunt the margin of the lake, ready, with its pointed beak,
+to hook up the tiny fishes, that glided in shoals at nightfall near the
+surface of the water.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_III" id="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_III"></a>III.<br />
+<span class="smcap">Caspar the Cobbler, of Cobweb Corner.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>In the centre of a certain old city in the Land of Langaffer stood a
+king's castle, surrounded by a high turreted wall, with many little
+gablets and long windows, and balconies adorned with flowers. A
+courtyard full of soldiers was inside. Like the city, the castle was
+picturesque, with its quaint architecture, its nooks and turns, its
+solid masonry and stone-carving. The interior must have been beautiful
+indeed; for the king, who had a very excellent taste, could scarcely be
+induced to leave his royal home even for an hour, so much did he love
+it. He was wont to inhale the fresh air every morning on the southern
+parapet where the clematis trailed over the antique coping, and, in the
+long summer twilight he would enjoy gazing at the east, where the
+sinking sun had spread its golden hue over his dominions, from the tiny
+top turret pointing to the woods and mountains that lay away beyond the
+city.</p>
+
+<p>Now, in close proximity to the castle were some of the darkest and
+narrowest streets of the city. One of these was Cobweb Corner; and here,
+in a small attic, dwelt a humpbacked, plain-visaged little man, who the
+whole day long loved to think about the king. He was called "Caspar the
+Cobbler, of Cobweb Corner."</p>
+
+<p>The people all knew Caspar, but they did not know that Caspar's secret
+ambition was to become some day cobbler to the king.</p>
+
+<p>Caspar's father and mother had been poor folk, like himself; and when he
+came into the world, a sickly, plain-featured babe, his mother sent for
+the very last of the fairies in the land to be her child's godmother,
+and to bequeath him some wonderful gift which might make up for his lack
+of strength and beauty.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span>"What an ugly child," said the fairy; "yet somebody will love him, and
+he may become beautiful&mdash;and, when all else forsake him, why, then the
+most graceful of the birds shall be his friends."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Caspar's mother considered that she had accomplished a great thing
+in persuading the fairy to act as godmother; but his father thought he
+could do better for his son in teaching him his own handicraft to the
+best of his ability.</p>
+
+<p>And therefore, with an extraordinary amount of care and patience, the
+old man instructed his little lad how to manage his awl; and, ere he
+died, had the satisfaction of knowing that his Caspar bade fair to
+become as clever a cobbler as any in the city.</p>
+
+<p>Several years had passed, and Caspar lived on alone in the little attic
+near the castle wall. The way up to his room was dark and narrow, up
+rickety stairs, and along crooked passages; but, once at the top, there
+was plenty of cheerful light streaming in through the dormer-window, and
+the twittering of the birds, as they built their nests in the eaves, had
+something pleasant and gay.</p>
+
+<p>The feathered songsters were Caspar's most constant companions, and he
+understood every word they said. He confided to them all his secrets,
+amongst others, what a proud man he should be, the day he made a pair of
+shoes for the king! Other secrets he imparted also to the birds, which
+the city folk down in the streets guessed little about.</p>
+
+<p>Many and many a time, as Caspar sat so much alone, he would sigh, and
+wish that his fairy-godmother would come and see him sometimes. But,
+alas, that could not be, for the king had given strict orders that the
+sentinels posted at the city gates should allow "no fairy bodies" in.
+Even the very last of the kind was, by a new law, banished to
+far-distant fairyland. "No more magic wands, no more wonders nowadays,"
+sighed poor Caspar; "nothing can be won but by hard and constant work,
+work, work!"</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, poor Caspar had to learn that even honest work sometimes fails
+to ward off hunger and poverty. For many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> a long month the crooked
+little cobbler was doomed to toil, and to suffer privation as well. He
+might make his boots and shoes night and day, and lay them out, pair by
+pair, in neat rows along a shelf in the corner of his attic, but what
+availed all this if no customer ever ventured up to look at them, nor
+even to order mendings?</p>
+
+<p>The fact was, that about this time the folk in that old city began to
+wear <i>wooden</i> shoes, which, they said, were good enough for them, and
+lasted longer than any other.</p>
+
+<p>Only fair-haired, blue-eyed Mabel, Dame Dimity's daughter, who had the
+daintiest little feet in the world, and knew how to dance like any
+fairy&mdash;she wore lovely little shoes manufactured by Caspar.</p>
+
+<p>When Midsummer-day came round Mabel was elected May-queen. Then she came
+tripping up the rickety staircase, and along the dingy passage to the
+attic workshop, in Cobweb Corner. "Caspar, Caspar, here, quick! My
+measure for a darling little pair of shoes to dance in!" and she held
+out the most elegant little foot which any shoemaker could possibly
+choose for a pattern.</p>
+
+<p>Three days after that the shoes were finished, a bonnie wee pair of
+crimson ones, in the softest of kid-leather; and when Mabel came to
+fetch them, and tried them on, they fitted like a glove. She drew them
+both on, and danced round the room to show how delighted she was. And
+dear! how lovely they looked, all three&mdash;Mabel and the little red
+shoes!!</p>
+
+<p>Poor deformed Caspar smiled as he watched her, and felt happy to have
+rendered her so happy.</p>
+
+<p>"I love to see you, little Mabel," he said, "and that is why I shall
+shut up my workshop on Midsummer-day, and go out to the common when you
+are crowned 'Queen o' the May.' I only wish the sky may be as blue&mdash;as
+blue&mdash;as your eyes are, Mabel!" And then the crooked little cobbler
+stammered and blushed at his own forwardness in paying such a compliment
+to the prettiest maiden in the land.</p>
+
+<p>But little Mabel said, "I will watch out for you, Caspar. I shall care
+for nobody on all the green so much as you."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span>Caspar could scarcely quite believe little Mabel when she said this; yet
+he was greatly touched by her kindness, and he promised to go and look
+at her from afar.</p>
+
+<p>When Midsummer-day dawned over that old city the weather was
+beautiful&mdash;the sky, as blue as Mabel's eyes; and young and old flocked
+out to bask in the sunshine, and enjoy the games and the merry-making.
+Even the king sallied forth from his castle, accompanied by his
+courtiers, to favour with his presence the time-honoured custom of
+crowning the May-queen.</p>
+
+<p>When he beheld little Mabel he exclaimed, "What a lovely maiden, fit to
+be a princess!"</p>
+
+<p>Caspar was standing quite near, and heard it with his own ears. He
+expected after that to see Mabel drop a curtsey to the king. But no, the
+little maiden looked straight at him&mdash;poor Caspar&mdash;instead, and with her
+queen's flowery wand, pointed down to her bonnie crimson shoes.</p>
+
+<p>The cobbler of Cobweb Corner was becoming dazed with happiness. Curious
+thoughts about his fairy-godmother crept into his head; strange thrills
+of pleasure and of pain shot through his dwarfish frame, and turned him
+well-nigh sick with emotion. It seemed to Caspar that he had grown older
+and younger in that one summer day. He felt giddy, and suddenly longed
+for his quiet attic in Cobweb Corner.</p>
+
+<p>He stole silently away, and had left the crowd behind him on the Common,
+when he suddenly became aware of a tiny hand slipped into his own; and,
+looking down to the ground, observed a dainty pair of red shoes tripping
+lightly by his side. "What! little Mabel?"</p>
+
+<p>"I just wanted to leave when you would leave, Caspar. For there was
+nobody on all the green I cared for so much as you."</p>
+
+<p>Ah, this time he did believe her,&mdash;poor Caspar! And so he must tell her
+all <i>his</i> secret. "I love you, little Mabel, oh so much! And oh, if some
+day you could marry me, I should keep you in darling little crimson
+shoes all your life! And who knows&mdash;perhaps through your love Mabel&mdash;I
+might grow better-looking. They said my godmother promised it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span>"I love you as you are, plain or handsome, you dear, good Caspar," cried
+little Mabel, "and I will marry you just as soon as my mother, Dame
+Dimity, gives her consent!"</p>
+
+<p>Alas! True love is ever doomed to be crossed, else this little tale of
+ours had been a good deal shorter; had, perhaps, even ended here!</p>
+
+<p>Dame Dimity would on <i>no</i> account yield her consent to the union of her
+daughter, the beauty of the town, with the cobbler of Cobweb Corner.
+Why, if it came to that, there was Christopher Clogs, the wooden
+shoemaker, who was a good figure and a wealthy man to boot! He lived in
+the Market Place, and drove a thriving business, whilst Caspar was known
+to have only one coat to his back. Really the effrontery of Cobweb
+Corner was astounding!</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mabel's eyes were now often dimmed with tears; yet once every day
+she passed through the narrow street near the castle wall, and gazed up
+at Caspar's gable-window, until she saw the little shoemaker smile down
+at her. After she had vanished, Caspar would feel very lonely; yet he
+said to himself, "When I want to see her blue eyes, then I must look at
+the sky. She'll always have blue eyes, and she'll always be <i>my Mabel</i>."</p>
+
+<p>These days Caspar rarely left his workshop in the old garret. He was
+very poor, and had nothing to buy with; so he went to no shops, and he
+avoided the neighbours, as they were beginning to make merry about him,
+and Mabel, and Dame Dimity. He could not bear to hear them say that
+Mabel was betrothed to Christie Clogs, the wooden shoemaker. Anything
+but that!</p>
+
+<p>When he had nobody to talk to, why, he opened his window to converse
+with the swallows, and asked them every evening what was the news&mdash;for
+Caspar could not afford to take in a newspaper.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what do you think!" they cried one night, swirling round his head
+in circles, as their custom was, "here is something to interest you,
+Caspar! The king has got <i>sore feet</i>&mdash;from wearing tight boots, they
+say,&mdash;and sits in an arm-chair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> with his feet wrapped up in a flannel.
+We saw it all just a while ago."</p>
+
+<p>"I took stock of His Majesty's feet that day," said Caspar promptly,
+"the day he was out on the 'Green.' I can't help measuring people's feet
+with my eye," he added apologetically to the swallows; "you see, it's my
+trade, and it is the only thing I am good at."</p>
+
+<p>But ere he had finished speaking, the friendly swallows had described
+their last swift circle in the air, and, with a sharp scream of
+"Goodnight," had darted into their nests under the old pointed roof.</p>
+
+<p>That evening, ere he lay down in <i>his</i> nest, poor Caspar had cut out of
+soft, well-tanned leather a pair of shoes, which he knew to be the
+king's own measure. "Ah," said Caspar, "the poor king must have his new
+shoes as soon as possible, for it is awful to suffer toe-ache, and to be
+obliged to sit all day long with one's feet swathed in flannel." And
+Caspar sat with his leather apron on, and wrought as if for life and
+death at the new shoes. He was too busy even to rise and look at the
+window for little Mabel passing by.</p>
+
+<p>At last they were completed. Then the humpbacked cobbler, having washed
+his hands, and brushed his one coat, went off, quivering with
+excitement, bearing the new shoes in his hands, away downstairs, and
+through the narrow street under the castle wall, till he came and stood
+before the castle gate. Here the sentinel on duty demanded what he
+wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"Pair of shoes for His Majesty," responded Caspar in a businesslike
+manner, and was admitted.</p>
+
+<p>When he had crossed the courtyard, and had arrived at the entrance of
+the inner apartments, he was accosted by a couple of lackeys covered
+with gold lace, and with powdered hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Heigho! What's all this!" they exclaimed. "Where dost thou hail from,
+old Hop-o'-my-thumb?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am Caspar the cobbler, of Cobweb Corner," replied the little man
+gravely; "as you may perceive by these new shoes which I bring for the
+king, and which are His Majesty's exact fit."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span>"Begone, knave!" cried the lackeys indignantly. "Dost thou imagine the
+king would wear anything contrived by the likes of thee. Be off, old
+mountebank, ere thou and thy shoes are flung into the castle dungeon!"</p>
+
+<p>In vain poor Caspar intreated; they would not even listen to him. At
+last, in utter terror for his life, he hurried away, disappointed,
+mortified, sick at heart, carrying the despised piece of workmanship, at
+which he had toiled so carefully and conscientiously all these weeks,
+back home to his obscure lodging in Cobweb Corner. Here, overcome with
+vexation, the little man flung himself upon his bed, and cried himself
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p>When he awoke it was evening. A fresh breeze was gently stirring the
+casement, the window was open, and the swallows passing and repassing it
+in circles, producing a screaming, chattering noise all the time.</p>
+
+<p>Caspar's eye fell first on his work-table, on which lay, side by side,
+his latest, best work, the brand new shoes for the king. Ah! the
+swallows saw them too, and this was the cause of all the extra
+twittering and screaming this evening.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear feathered friends," cried Caspar, springing to the open window,
+"how can ye help me? They are finished! They fit! But how are they to be
+conveyed to His Majesty? The menials in the castle would not let me in."</p>
+
+<p>"Wee&mdash;wee&mdash;we could carry <i>one</i>!" piped the swallows, slily, dipping
+their long lanced wings, and swirling swiftly by.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not <i>one</i>, ye silly creatures!" cried Caspar all out of breath;
+"<i>both</i> or none!"</p>
+
+<p>The swallows made a second long sweep, and as they neared the gablet
+again, hissed forth, "Singly were surer." But, as Caspar made a sign of
+impatience, four of his friends, the swifts, darted straight across the
+window-sill to the work-table, and, seizing the new shoes by heel and
+toe, sped off with them across the old wall to the royal castle.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed but an instant and they were back, screaming and hissing and
+circling towards their nest in the eaves. Caspar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> put his head out at
+the open casement, and listened anxiously to their sounds.</p>
+
+<p>"Dropped them at his bed-room window&mdash;the little balcony&mdash;some one
+opened&mdash;took them in&mdash;so, so, sleep well, sleep well,&mdash;goodnight!"</p>
+
+<p>The following morning Caspar the cobbler was up and dressed before
+daybreak, and down in the streets, in and out amongst the crowds, trying
+to overhear some gossip about the king.</p>
+
+<p>The city folk were surprised to see him once more in their midst; and
+good-naturedly permitted him to sit at their firesides for old times'
+sake, although he called for no ale, nor lighted a long pipe like the
+others. All poor Caspar desired was to ascertain the latest court news;
+but, to his annoyance, he was doomed to learn first a great many things
+that did not please him about Dame Dimity and Christie Clogs.</p>
+
+<p>At last, late on in the afternoon, somebody inquired if the company were
+informed of the good tidings, "that His Majesty the king was recovered
+of his foot-ache, and could walk about again, thanks to a shoemaker who
+had succeeded in fitting His Majesty's foot to a 'T.'"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>That</i> shoemaker, whoever he be, has founded his own fortune this day!"
+exclaimed the innkeeper.</p>
+
+<p>Caspar sprang to his feet, and at the same time the pewter tankards and
+all the pipes, the host and all the customers, danced round before his
+eyes. With a great gasp of excitement he bounded out to the street, and
+sped on to the market place, past Dame Dimity's, and past Christie
+Clogs', and on to the narrow street with the overshadowing wall, and on,
+and on, until he arrived at the royal entrance. He obtained admittance
+as before, and pressed forward till he was arrested by the supercilious
+lackeys in gold-lace livery.</p>
+
+<p>"What! here again, old Hop-o'-my-thumb!" cried they.</p>
+
+<p>"But I am the royal shoemaker, gentlemen!" exclaimed Caspar, proudly,
+"and that was my own work which I carried in my hand yesterday morning."</p>
+
+<p>"What knavery is this?" returned the head menial of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> castle, "the
+royal shoemaker, villain, is no clumsy clown from these parts; but he
+and his wares come from abroad, from Paris. He is, moreover, with the
+king at present, receiving his reward for the beautiful new pair of
+shoes in softly-tanned leather, which arrived last night at dusk. He is
+an elegant gentleman, this Parisian, and knows fine manners as well as
+his trade, for he ne'er goes nor comes without dealing out <i>largesse</i> to
+us, the gentlemen attendants, and therein exhibits his good breeding."</p>
+
+<p>"But the shoes!" stammered out Caspar all aghast. "The shoes! I made
+them, and His Majesty the king has them on at this very moment. Confound
+your Parisian!" he screamed, waxing wroth; "it was <i>I</i> who made the
+shoes&mdash;they were found on the western balcony last night&mdash;His Majesty
+must know that they are the work of Caspar the cobbler, of Cobweb
+Corner!"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a musical murmur of voices was audible from within, and a
+creaking of boots; and at once the angry lackeys turned smiling faces
+towards the departing French merchant, who politely pressed a little
+coin into each of their outstretched palms.</p>
+
+<p>When at length he took his departure, Caspar followed him some way with
+a very ugly expression disfiguring his features. "I could kill this
+dandy interloper, who steals the reward and credit of my hard-earned
+toil! I could stick my awl through him!"</p>
+
+<p>Poor Caspar, it was well that at this instant he was accosted by his
+loving little angel, his sweet, blue-eyed Mabel!</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, my Caspar, whatever has come over you, and whither are you going,
+that you do not even see your own Mabel? And, oh! I am thankful to have
+met you now, for look, Caspar, with trudging past Cobweb Corner every
+day my pretty shoes are well-nigh worn through! So I must have a new
+pair, and you may set about making them at once."</p>
+
+<p>Then poor Caspar told her about his grievous disappointment at the
+castle, and the insults and humiliation he had experienced at the hands
+of the royal underlings. "It is too bad." he said, "to think that nobody
+knows that I made them!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span>"The swallows know it," added Mabel pensively, "and you should have
+followed their advice; for, after all, they are your best friends."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" returned Caspar sharply, "and sent only one at a time? Is that
+what you mean, Mabel?"</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say that was what <i>they</i> meant," she returned.</p>
+
+<p>Caspar groaned.</p>
+
+<p>"But look," continued the little maiden gaily, her blue eyes dancing
+with a bright idea, "remember this, O Caspar, the king's shoes must
+by-and-by become worn through, like mine! And then&mdash;and then, he must
+have new ones too&mdash;and then&mdash;and then we'll take the swallows' advice,
+and act with greater caution."</p>
+
+<p>That evening when Caspar went home to Cobweb Corner, and flung open his
+gable-window, there were <i>no</i> graceful circles described overhead, and
+<i>no</i> twittering amongst the eaves. All was silent. The swallows had
+taken leave of Cobweb Corner, and of the royal castle, and of the quaint
+old city, with its many spires and turrets. They were off, all together,
+a joyous merry troup of tourists, swiftly, swiftly winging their way to
+warmer climes for the winter.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Caspar missed them sadly, and reproached them a little at first for
+being heartless, selfish creatures. Soon, however, he gained courage
+again; and began to work at Mabel's shoes ... and then at the king's&mdash;to
+have them ready by spring time, when, as the little maiden said, "the
+others should be worn out."</p>
+
+<p>Several times that winter Caspar saw the king walk out in the identical
+shoes his hands had manufactured; and his heart gave a leap every time
+he observed them becoming thinner.</p>
+
+<p>At last the soft western breezes, the budding flowers, and the
+bright-blue, sunny sky of springtime came again; and the swallows
+returned swiftly, swiftly, swirling and screaming, just as they had done
+last year. They nested in their old corner under the eaves of Caspar's
+gable-roof. And by-and-by, when it was gossipped throughout the city
+that the king's feet were paining him again, because the very last new
+shoes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span>&mdash;which <i>really</i> came from Paris, didn't fit at all, then the
+swallows at nightfall hissed at Caspar's window, "<i>Soon, soon, see they
+be ready! Singly is surely!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The dandified tradesman from Paris arrived at the castle with all his
+samples; but he was received with suspicion, and dismissed in disgrace,
+and this time distributed no <i>largesse</i> amongst the gold-laced lackeys.</p>
+
+<p>The same night the swallows might have been observed darting off from
+Cobweb Corner, bearing <i>one</i> neatly-made shoe in soft, well-tanned
+leather. They dropped it outside the royal window, on the western
+balcony.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning there was a great proclamation out all over the
+town. The mayor read it aloud on the market place in front of Christie
+Clogs' house, offering an immense reward to the person who could produce
+the missing shoe, "fellow to that one discovered on the king's balcony
+last night"; and a second reward, "ten times as great to the
+manufacturer of the said pair of shoes, which fitted His Majesty to a
+'T.'"</p>
+
+<p>In front of the crowd thronging the market place stood Caspar, his
+figure erect, his face transformed into a beautiful face by the delight
+which had taken possession of his whole soul. The success of an honest
+workman beamed in his countenance, and rendered the poor cobbler noble.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel ran to his side, and he placed the missing shoe in her hands. "It
+is safe with my true, blue-eyed darling!" cried Caspar proudly; and the
+people raised a hearty cheer.</p>
+
+<p>Then they formed a procession, and, with Caspar and Mabel at their head,
+marched to the royal presence.</p>
+
+<p>This time the king received Caspar himself, and from Mabel's lips
+learned the whole story of the shoes from the very beginning.</p>
+
+<p>After that, there was great rejoicing in the quaint old city; for both
+Caspar and Mabel were now the favourites with all the better folk. The
+king issued a command for their immediate marriage, and appointed Caspar
+to a post in the castle.</p>
+
+<p>But the only title Caspar was willing to accept was that of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> "Cobbler to
+the King"; and, as such, he subsequently removed his belongings from
+Cobweb Corner to a fine large house which was prepared for him in the
+market place.</p>
+
+<p>The fairy godmother was allowed to come and grace the wedding with her
+presence; and she promised so many blessings that Caspar and Mabel ought
+to have been still happier if that had been possible.</p>
+
+<p>As for Dame Dimity, she married Christie Clogs herself; and report says
+she led a sore life of it when he came home tipsy at night, and began to
+fling his wooden shoes about.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_IV" id="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_IV"></a>IV.<br />
+<span class="smcap">Dame Dorothy's Dog.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>On the outskirts of Langaffer village, and not far from the great pine
+forest, stood the cottage of old Dame Dorothy, with its latticed windows
+and picturesque porch, and its pretty little garden, fenced in with
+green palings and privet hedge.</p>
+
+<p>Dame Dorothy was a nice, particular old lady, who spent her time in and
+about her house, trying to make things neat and cosy. In winter she
+might be seen polishing her mahogany furniture, rubbing bright her
+brazen candlesticks and copper kettle, or sweeping about the fireplace;
+whilst in summertime she was mostly busy weeding her garden, raking the
+little walks, and watering her flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Yet she never smiled, only sighed very often; and toiled every day more
+diligently than the day before.</p>
+
+<p>Strange to say, Dame Dorothy was not comfortable in spite of all her
+conscientiously-performed labours; nor happy, although she lived in such
+a beautiful little cottage. She never imagined for a moment that the
+cause of this could be the fact&mdash;that she kept a black dog.</p>
+
+<p>Black Nero was a magnificent mastiff, with not a white hair on his back.
+He had run into Dame Dorothy's one Fifth of November from the forest,
+when quite a little puppy; and she had housed him and fed him ever
+since; and now she was so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> much attached to him that she declared she
+could not part with him for the world.</p>
+
+<p>In return for her care he trampled over her flower-beds, tore down her
+hollyhocks, and scraped up the roots of her "London Pride" with his
+fore-paws; made a passage for himself through her privet hedge, and lay
+stretched on fine days his full length on her rustic sofa in the
+door-porch.</p>
+
+<p>When the rosy-cheeked village children passed by to school in the
+morning Nero snarled and snapped at them through the railings, so that
+not one durst venture to say "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy."</p>
+
+<p>Even the next-door neighbours were afraid of him; and some acquaintances
+of the widow, who themselves kept cats and dogs, and nice little soft
+kittens as pets, now rarely invited her over to a friendly dance or a
+wedding or christening; for if they did the black dog was certain to
+accompany his mistress; and then, in the midst of the party, he would
+raise such a barking, and create such a confusion, that none of the
+dames could get speaking.</p>
+
+<p>In winter, when the cold blasts swirled dreamily through the leafless
+branches of the Langaffer beeches, causing them to creak and moan; when
+the snow lay thick upon the ground, and the nights closed in apace, and
+the villagers relished the comforts of the "ingle-nook,"
+then&mdash;alas!&mdash;there was no fireside enjoyment for poor Dame Dorothy. She
+might fasten her shutters, and draw her armchair close to the hearth;
+she might pile up the logs in the chimney to make a blazing fire&mdash;but
+all in vain! Home cheer there was none; for the black dog was there,
+with his great body extended between her and the warmth. She might boil
+the kettle, and gaze at herself in its shining lid; but Nero's face was
+reflected in the kettle-lid too; and in all the lids, and pots and pans,
+and pewters and coppers right round the room, with his ugly muzzle
+half-open for growling and snarling.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, the dog was so greedy and thankless, he never wagged his tail,
+but would snap at the victuals his mistress herself was eating; and when
+she did give him the choicest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> dainties that came off her gridiron, and
+the very top of the cream, he would only whine for more.</p>
+
+<p>For all this, Dame Dorothy had no idea of parting with the graceless
+brute, but continued to pet and pamper him. She was even secretly proud
+of Nero, because he was the biggest dog in the village, and by far the
+most terrible. Once she told the neighbours over the palings that he was
+a great protection to her, especially at night, and she "such a poor
+lone widow!"</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon these good people honestly replied, "Oh, Mistress Dorothy,
+never dread a worse enemy than your own black dog!"</p>
+
+<p>Then in her heart she remembered how that very morning Nero had indeed
+caught her thumb between his teeth when impatiently snatching his food;
+and how the evening before he had upset the milkpail, and left the black
+mark of his paw on her new knitted quilt; and how, one day last week, he
+had sat down on her best Sunday cap. And Dame Dorothy knew in her heart
+that the village folk spoke truly; but she would not acknowledge it,
+no&mdash;but with a melancholy shake of her head, repeated, "Poor dear Nero!
+People have something against thee, my dear black doggie!"</p>
+
+<p>Now it happened that one fine morning in May, when the lark was warbling
+high overhead, and the hawthorn bushes were putting on their first pink
+blossoms, and all the forest was gay with budding flowers and singing
+birds, and the village school-children were passing hand-in-hand,
+carrying their little slates and satchels, that they met a tiny fairy
+all in white, with a wondrous beaming face, and golden hair floating
+down over her shoulders. Naturally they stopped to stare at her, for
+they had never seen such a lovely little lady before; and she smiled
+pleasantly, for she had never beheld such a collection of wondering
+round eyes, and so many wide-open mouths gaping at her.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she asked, "Can you tell me, young people, whose is that
+pretty cottage, so nicely situated at the corner of the wood, with the
+beautiful porch and palings?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span>"Dame Dorothy's!" exclaimed they all in a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"It must be very delightful there," she continued. "I shall go in, and
+see Dame Dorothy."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't! She keeps a dog," cried one, "and he will eat you up."</p>
+
+<p>"Such a nasty, big black dog," added another, "that barks&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Like a lion," interposed a third.</p>
+
+<p>"And bites like a tiger!" added a fourth.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't go, pretty lady!" repeated a fifth and sixth, and many more
+childish voices together; "and pray don't open the gate, for we are all
+so afraid he might spring out at us."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, my dears, but I am not afraid," said the fairy. "And I
+intend to visit Dame Dorothy all the same."</p>
+
+<p>Then the children were more astonished still when they saw her glide in
+between the palings without ever unlatching the gate. She was such a
+slender little fairy-body! But they held their breaths, and clutched at
+one another's skirts with fear, as they heard the harsh yelp of Nero,
+and perceived him bounding forward from his seat in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! eh! oh! he will devour her!" they all gasped out together. But just
+then the little lady was waving her tiny hand toward their school-house;
+and they all ran on so fast, so fast, that the door was not quite closed
+when they arrived.</p>
+
+<p>And now the good little fairy with her white dress, and her golden
+tresses floating behind her, fixed her blue eyes very steadily on the
+dog's black eyes, and held up her tiny forefinger.</p>
+
+<p>Thus she walked straight into Dame Dorothy's cottage, and, as she flung
+open the door, a whole flood of sunshine streamed in along with her.</p>
+
+<p>And the black dog hung his head, and followed her slowly, growling and
+grinding his teeth as if he would best like to snatch her, and munch her
+up, and swallow her down all in a minute.</p>
+
+<p>But Dame Dorothy was enchanted with her bright little visitor; for, to
+tell the truth, the callers-in were very rare that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> year at the woodside
+cottage, and the widow's heart often yearned for some one to speak to.</p>
+
+<p>The white fairy inquired how it was that so few flowers were seen in the
+garden, and so few birds' nests under the eaves of the cottage; and why
+Dame Dorothy did not take her knitting that fine morning, and enjoy the
+bright sun in the doorway?</p>
+
+<p>The widow looked melancholy, and heaved a deep sigh; but the black dog,
+who had overheard every syllable, sneaked away with a low growling
+noise, and knocked down a chair on purpose to indicate his malice.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall return another day," said the good little fairy as she rose to
+take leave, "and bring you such a sweet nosegay fresh from the forest,
+to decorate the table and cheer your heart, because," she added, quite
+in a whisper, lest Nero might hear her&mdash;"because I am sorry to see you
+have none left in your flower-beds."</p>
+
+<p>From this day forth Dame Dorothy's dog was "poorly." He skulked about
+the garden, keeping to the gravel walk, with drooping ears and tail
+between his legs. And by-and-by he began to leave his food untasted.</p>
+
+<p>The poor widow noticed the change, and became anxious. Then presently
+she grew more uneasy; and at last, greatly concerned about her
+favourite's health, she set about cutting him out a warm coat for the
+autumn out of her own best velvet mantle, for she was sure he had taken
+the influenza.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-by she observed that Nero grew worse on the days of the bright
+little fairy's visits; that no sooner did the white robe and the golden
+hair cross the threshold than he would move away from the fireside,
+slink whining under the tables and chairs, and pass outside the house
+altogether.</p>
+
+<p>Yet Dame Dorothy could not help loving the sunny fairy who every time
+fetched a lovely posy of sweet-scented flowers from the forest; to say
+nothing of her winning voice, her musical laughter, her gentle, loving
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And the village children trooped often now past the woodside cottage,
+for they wanted to catch a glimpse of the fairy as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> she went in and out;
+and they were quite overjoyed when she spoke to them.</p>
+
+<p>At last one day Dame Dorothy, who had got into the habit of telling the
+fairy everything, thought she would consult her about her dog.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah me, my poor Nero!" she said; "look at him, he is not thriving at
+all. And what will become of me, a lone widow woman, if aught befall my
+black dog? And only think, I cannot persuade him to wear the jacket I
+sewed for him out of my own best mantle!"</p>
+
+<p>"Poor black dog!" said the little fairy as gravely as she could, and
+nothing more.</p>
+
+<p>After that she went away; and the same night the dog disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Dame Dorothy sought for him high and low, called him by name, coaxingly,
+entreatingly; but all in vain. Then she sat down in her great armchair
+by her own fireside, and began to weep for her favourite.</p>
+
+<p>Now it was a very comfortable chair, and the beech-logs in the wide
+grate sent out a nice warm glow, and it was the first time for months
+that the rightful possessor of the place could enjoy these in
+undisturbed tranquillity.</p>
+
+<p>Dame Dorothy soon fell fast asleep. And then she had such funny dreams
+about <i>white</i> dogs, and <i>black</i> fairies, and school children, all
+clothed in little jackets cut out of her own best mantle, that she
+laughed aloud several times in her sleep, and indeed did not waken until
+the morning sun sent his beams in through the diamond panes of her
+window.</p>
+
+<p>Many days Dame Dorothy searched for her black dog in every corner of the
+cottage, and under every bush in the garden, and all among her privet
+hedge, for she was sure he had lain down in some spot to die. But not
+the least trace of him did she discover.</p>
+
+<p>And then she gathered up all her grief to pour it forth in one loud,
+intense lamentation the first time the bright little fairy should
+arrive.</p>
+
+<p>"But oh, do not weep so, good Dame Dorothy," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> little lady.
+"When I return again, I shall fetch you another pet to keep you company
+all day long, and bring joy to your heart, and peace to your fireside!"</p>
+
+<p>She kept faithful to her promise, the good little fairy; for the next
+time she came from the forest she brought with her a lovely
+white-breasted <i>turtle-dove</i> for Dame Dorothy.</p>
+
+<p>The village children saw her on the road, and they all flocked in before
+her, crying, "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy. Oh, you are going to get such a
+beautiful, <i>beautiful</i> bird!" Then the old lady smiled at the children,
+as she never had smiled for years and years.</p>
+
+<p>And, as the days went by, the little garden near the great pine forest
+grew fair and fragrant. The roses and the sweet woodbine clambered over
+the pretty porch. The hollyhocks and the London-pride flourished once
+more, and the little birds built their nests, and twittered fearlessly
+under the eaves of the rustic cottage.</p>
+
+<p>The new white pet became so tame and so gentle that it would eat from
+its mistress's hand, and would perch lovingly upon her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>And when she was invited by her old acquaintances in the village to an
+afternoon party, she was always requested to bring her pet along with
+her; for all the villagers, young and old, who had formerly dreaded the
+great black dog, now loved and welcomed <i>Dame Dorothy's dove</i>.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="title"><a name="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_V" id="THE_LEGENDS_OF_LANGAFFER_V"></a>V.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Little Locksmith.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>Long ago there lived in Langaffer a light-hearted, light-haired, lazy
+little lad called Randal. He enjoyed a happy home, health and high
+spirits, and a gay, merry life with his brothers and sisters.</p>
+
+<p>They went to no school, but in the early Spring days sallied forth to
+gather primroses and anemones; they knew the spot where the tallest
+rushes grew, for plaiting into butterflies' cages,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> the best
+seggan-leaves for tiny canoes, and could tell where the finest
+blackbirds' eggs were to be found.</p>
+
+<p>In autumn, when the leaves were turning yellow, and the squirrels were
+fat and tame, they roamed together through the dingle in search of
+hazel-nuts; and waded up and down the shallow stream, their chatter
+mingling with its bubbling noise, whilst they tried to catch the darting
+minnows.</p>
+
+<p>Every corner of the village had echoed with their laughter, and with the
+shrill, clear voice of Randal, the bonniest and blithest of the band.</p>
+
+<p>Now, in a shady grove, at some distance from the village, there stood a
+quaint-looking edifice, with antique windows and sculptured pillars
+partly overgrown with ivy. The tiny lads and lasses of Langaffer knew it
+well enough by sight; but little cared they who lived there, or what
+might be inside. In the long summer twilight they chased one another
+round the basement walls, and startled the swallows from the eaves with
+their joyous screams; and that was enough for them.</p>
+
+<p>Yet there came a day when Randal was alone, lying listlessly his full
+length upon the grass, flapping away the midges with a blade of
+spear-grass, just in front of the mansion, when he beheld the portal
+open, and a youth step forth.</p>
+
+<p>The young man had a beaming countenance, and walked with a quick,
+elastic step.</p>
+
+<p>Then Randal wondered for the first time in his life what that lofty
+edifice could be, and why the youth came "all so smiling out" from its
+stately portico. He sprang to his feet, and, running forward, cried out,
+"Pray, sir, can you tell me what building is this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, a beautiful fairy palace," cried the stranger, "with such wonderful
+things in every apartment! The oftener one enters, the more one sees,
+and all so curious, so lovely!"</p>
+
+<p>"What! Then you will take me with you the next time you go?" cried
+Randal, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, my lad," said the stranger. "If you wish to enter in you must
+have a key of your own."</p>
+
+<p>"But <i>where</i> shall I get one?" said Randal.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span>"Make it!" was the reply. "If you go to the forge at the four roads'
+end, and apprentice yourself to the locksmith there, he will show you
+how to set about it. It's a labour that's well repaid."</p>
+
+<p>The youth went away, and his words filled Randal with a strange yearning
+to behold the interior of the mysterious mansion.</p>
+
+<p>But he lost no time; he ran full speed till he came to the forge at the
+four roads' end, and begged the locksmith to receive him as an
+apprentice, and teach him how to construct a magic key, that would open
+the fairy palace.</p>
+
+<p>And there, at the smithy, Randal beheld a number of little locksmiths
+about his own age, each with a leathern apron on, and arms bared to the
+elbows, working away at the anvil. They were all making keys, and some
+had well-nigh finished, whilst others were only beginning.</p>
+
+<p>Then little Randal bared his arms too, and got a leathern apron on, and
+began to work with all his might, thinking only of the beautiful fairy
+palace, that stood so silent and majestic in the midst of the shady
+pine-grove.</p>
+
+<p>What could be within its walls? When should he obtain a peep at all the
+wondrous things he had heard of? Not till his key was ready!</p>
+
+<p>And alas! it was heavy work at the smithy. Day after day must the little
+mechanic toil, till the great beads of perspiration gathered upon his
+brow.</p>
+
+<p>As for the other apprentices, only <i>some</i> wrought steadily on, with
+unflinching courage. Most of them, who were beginners, like Randal,
+idled when the master locksmith chanced to leave the forge, and skimped
+their work, and grumbled, and declared there was nothing in the palace
+worth the labour.</p>
+
+<p>One boy, whose key was almost shaped, gave up in despair, cried out that
+all the treasures of Fairyland should not induce him to work another
+minute; then flung down his tools upon the ground, tore off his apron,
+and ran out into the green fields.</p>
+
+<p>This discouraged many of the little workmen, who, one by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> one, dropped
+their implements, and slipped away, murmuring that the task was too
+difficult and tedious.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Randal felt sorely tempted to follow their example; and indeed he
+might have yielded, too, had not one pale-faced, earnest-looking boy,
+who held a file and piece of polished metal in his hand, exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Six times have I tried my key in the lock of the palace door, and all
+in vain. The <i>seventh</i> time I must succeed&mdash;and then&mdash;the treasures are
+mine!"</p>
+
+<p>"What that pale-faced boy can do, I can do," said Randal to himself;
+and, like a thorough workman, he set himself bravely to his task,
+determined, come what might, to finish it.</p>
+
+<p>And every morning, when Randal left his home, and started for the forge,
+he took his way through the pine grove, just to gaze a moment with awe
+and admiration at the fairy palace, and for the twentieth time to fancy
+himself deftly turning the key in the lock, and gliding softly in.</p>
+
+<p>But once, as he hastened by at break of day, whom should he meet but
+Sylvan, the squire's son, setting out with a couple of terriers to hunt
+for weasels.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going so early?" said Sylvan; and Randal told him.</p>
+
+<p>Then the young squire laughed aloud, and cried out, "Oh, I have been a
+locksmith too at the four roads' end! My father made me go and work like
+a common slave. But I have had enough of that sort of life, and I don't
+wish to hear anything more about 'locks and keys, and fairy palaces.'
+Come with me, and I'll teach you how to set a trap."</p>
+
+<p>But Randal silently shook his head, and went his way to the forge at the
+four roads' end. Sylvan's words, however, continued to ring in his ears,
+and spoiled his heart for his labour. And all that day the smithy seemed
+in his eyes like an ugly den, and himself and the little locksmiths like
+so many toil-worn slaves. And now he chafed and fretted; and now he
+loitered at his work; and now he hastened to make up for squandered
+time. And then, alas, in his haste, he broke the key he was making.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span>"Here's a pretty mess!" cried Randal in despair. "Must I start at the
+beginning again? Or shall I give it up altogether? Ah! why did I hear
+about the fairy palace at all?"</p>
+
+<p>The temptation was strong to fling down his tools, as many another
+before him had done, and leave the anvil for ever. Randal's ten fingers
+were just raised to unfasten the ties of his leather apron, when a
+joyous cry rang through the forge.</p>
+
+<p>It came from the pale-faced, earnest-looking lad, who held up his
+shining new key now completed. "My seventh trial," he shouted, with
+tears in his eyes, "and I know that it is perfect!" and he bounded forth
+in the direction of the wonderful mansion in the forest.</p>
+
+<p>At the sight of the pale boy's success Randal blushed deep red, and bit
+his lip; then, picking up his instruments one by one, he begged the
+master to give him another bit of iron.</p>
+
+<p>After that, the little locksmith wrought the livelong day with more
+energy and greater courage than any one at the forge. Before daybreak
+now he hastened to his work, ever choosing the nearest way, and avoiding
+the wood, lest he might encounter idle Sylvan, the squire's son. But
+once, at eventide, whom should he chance to meet but the gentle,
+pale-faced boy, coming from the fairy house, and looking so radiant and
+happy, that Randal rushed towards him, and questioned him about the
+treasures.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Randal!" cried his friend, "you will simply be enchanted when you
+come. For, once within the fairy palace, you must look and listen, and
+laugh, and admire."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, tell me no more," cried the little locksmith, "my key is almost
+finished!"</p>
+
+<p>After this many more days passed in silent, steady toil; until at last,
+one bright morning in early Spring, as the sunbeams were breaking
+through the mist, Randal quietly laid down his file, and, nervously
+clasping a brightly-polished key in his vigorous young hand, glided
+softly from the smithy, and out into the cool air.</p>
+
+<p>The master locksmith stepped to the threshold to look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> after him; and,
+as he shaded his hand with his horny palm, and watched the lad's
+retreating figure, a smile of satisfaction and approval flitted across
+his wrinkled face.</p>
+
+<p>The new key turned smoothly in the lock, the door was opened, and he
+entered in.</p>
+
+<p>Randal wandered through the fairy palace. He found himself in beautiful
+apartments, lofty, grand and airy, containing countless lovely and
+curious objects. Some of these he could only look at; others he might
+feel and handle at his pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>There were portraits of kings and great warriors, pictures of
+battlefields and processions, which filled his mind with wonder; of
+quaint streets, and homely firesides, and little children attired in
+funny costumes, that made him laugh, and clap his hands, and hold his
+sides for merriment.</p>
+
+<p>In another apartment were various kinds of coloured glasses and prisms,
+through which the little Langaffer lad looked at strange countries he
+had never dreamed of before. Nay, from a certain oriel window he
+discovered stars, so many and so beautiful that he trembled with
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>And, all the time, there were other children from other villages
+rambling, like Randal, through the chambers of the fairy mansion. They
+moved gently about from room to room, taking one another's hands, and
+holding their breaths in astonishment. And only one subdued murmur
+filled the air of "Oh, how lovely, how fine! Ah, how strange!" For,
+besides all these things, there were exquisite flowers to be seen, and
+animals of every shape and size, and pearls and corals, precious stones
+and sparkling gems, and pretty contrivances for the children to play
+with.</p>
+
+<p>And the very best of it all was, that Randal possessed the key which he
+himself had made. He was as much the lord of the "wonderful palace" now
+as any one!</p>
+
+<p>The villagers were indeed astonished when Randal went home, and related
+to them what he had seen. And they all <i>respected</i> the little locksmith,
+who, by his own honest toil, had gotten what they called, "The Key to
+the Treasures of Fairyland."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="genre"><a name="ROMANCE_IN_HISTORY" id="ROMANCE_IN_HISTORY"></a>ROMANCE IN HISTORY.</h2>
+
+
+<h2 class="title"><a name="HOW_CICELY_DANCED_BEFORE_THE_KING" id="HOW_CICELY_DANCED_BEFORE_THE_KING"></a>HOW CICELY DANCED BEFORE THE KING.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY THOMAS ARCHER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The old manor-house of Sir Christopher Burroughs of Stolham, Norfolk,
+lay shining in the last rays of the setting sun, on the eve of May Day
+1646. The long range of windows along the front of the building between
+the two buttresses flashed with crimson and gold; for the house faced
+the south-west, and the brilliant light that shone from the rim of the
+blood-red cloud behind which the sun was sinking, glowed deep on the
+diamond panes. But the house was lighted within as well as without. In
+the large low-ceilinged dining-hall wax candles burned in great silver
+sconces, and the cloth was laid for supper. In the upper room the gleams
+that came through the spaces between the heavy curtains showed that
+there was company there. If any one had gone close to the porch and
+listened, he could have heard the sound of voices talking loudly, and
+now and then a laugh, or could have seen the shadows of servants passing
+to and fro in the buttery just within the great hall; nay, any one going
+round the corner of the house where there was an angle of the wall of
+the garden, could have heard from an upper window the sound of a lute
+playing a slow and stately measure, and if his ears had been very sharp
+indeed, he would have detected the light footfalls of dancers on the
+polished oaken floor.</p>
+
+<p>It was an exciting time; for King Charles I and his cavaliers and the
+army that they commanded had been beaten by Oliver<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> Cromwell and the
+soldiers of the Parliament at Naseby, in Northamptonshire, and the King
+had lost all his baggage and his letters and papers. After this Charles
+had been from place to place with his army, till he reached Oxford,
+where his council was staying, and from this town he thought he should
+be able either to get to London or to go northward and join the Scotch
+army.</p>
+
+<p>But news had just come to Sir Christopher Burroughs that Cromwell and
+his general, Fairfax, had marched to Newbury, only a mile from Oxford;
+and though the worthy knight of Stolham was not fighting for the King
+any more than most of his neighbours in Norfolk were, he was more on the
+side of the Royal cause than on that of the Parliament; so that the
+report of the King's danger gave him a good deal of anxiety, and he and
+his friends and their ladies were talking about it as they waited for
+the butler to come and tell them that supper was ready. The troubles of
+the times did not always prevent people from eating and drinking and
+having merry-makings. The people around Stolham did not care enough for
+the Royal cause to give up all pleasures; and some of them&mdash;friends of
+Sir Christopher too&mdash;were more inclined to side with the Parliament and
+the Puritan generals, though at present they said very little about it;
+and Sir Christopher presently called out,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we met not to talk of politics or of the King's affairs; so let
+us to supper, though I cannot but say that I would fain see the ceasing
+of this strife, and the King with his own again."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, with his own; but not with that which belongs to his subjects,"
+said a farmer, who had been fined for not paying the taxes which the
+King had ordered to be forced upon the people without the consent of
+Parliament.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come," said Dame Burroughs, laughing and taking the farmer's arm,
+"we women hear enough of such talk every day in the week; but to-morrow
+will be May Day, and there will be open house to our friends, and for
+the lads and lasses, dancing at the May-pole, and a supper in the barn.
+Let us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> keep English hearts within us even in these dark times, and make
+merry as we can."</p>
+
+<p>"But methinks the May-pole is no more than a pagan thing, an idol to
+encourage to vanity and profane dancing," said a sour-faced man, who had
+been standing by the window.</p>
+
+<p>"It may have been a pagan custom once," said Sir Christopher; "and the
+same may be said of preaching from a pulpit; but all depends on the way
+of it, and not on the thing itself. As to dancing, it is an old custom
+enough; there is Scripture warrant for it perhaps, and it comes
+naturally to all young creatures. I'll be bound, now, that our Dick and
+his little cousin Cicely are at this moment getting the steps of the
+gavotte or the other gambadoes that have come to us from France and
+Spain, that they may figure before the company to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"That are they!" said the dame laughing, as a servant opened the door,
+and each of Sir Christopher's friends gave a hand to a lady to lead them
+down to supper. "Hark! don't you hear my kinswoman's lute? Poor, kind
+Dorothy, she will play to them for the hour long, and likes nothing
+better. I can hear their little feet pit-a-patting; and Dick would
+insist on putting on his new fine suit, all brave with Spanish point and
+ribbon velvet, and the boy has buckled on a sword, too, while the little
+puss, Cicely, not to be backward, is all a prop with a stiff petticoat
+and a brocaded fardingale, and has on her little silk cap with the
+pearls, just as I have heard the fashion is among the Queen's French
+ladies of honour. Hark! there they go, tum-tum-ty, tum-twenty-tum,
+tum-twenty-tum! Bless their little hearts!"</p>
+
+<p>The sour-faced man made a grimace; for his wife was just before him, and
+he could see her feet moving in time to the music as they all went down
+into the great hall laughing and talking; nor did the sound of the music
+cease till it was shut out by the closing of the door after they had sat
+down to supper; and even then it came upon them in gushes of melody
+every time a servant opened the door, to bring in another dish or a
+flagon of ale or of wine.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span>They heard it when, supper being nearly over, the butler came in softly
+and whispered to Sir Christopher, who, asking them to excuse him for a
+moment, went out into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>A horseman was standing there, booted and spurred, and with his riding
+whip in his hand, and his steed was snorting, and scraping the ground
+outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know me again, Sir Christopher?" said the man, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me bring you to the light," muttered the knight, leading him to the
+porch where there was a lantern hanging. "To be sure. I have seen you up
+at Whitehall and at Oxford, too, and are not likely to forget His
+Majesty's Groom of the Chambers. How fares it with our Royal Master?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it stands this way, sir, as I take it," whispered the visitor.
+"His Majesty must either fly the country or reach the army of the Scots,
+which he has no liking for, or raise the eastern counties and risk
+another battle. As it is, we have come safe out of Oxford, where Fairfax
+and the arch-rebel Cromwell are closing upon the city, and the king has
+ridden behind me after I had trimmed off his pointed beard, and made him
+look as much like a servant as is possible to his sainted person. I left
+him an hour ago after we had left Deeping, for I came on here to see if
+you could receive him, not according to his rank, but as a plain guest,
+with the name of Thomas Williams; for there are those about who might be
+meddlesome, and His Majesty can only tarry for two or three days,
+waiting for a message from the Scots generals, to be brought by a trusty
+hand. I had feared that His Majesty would have overtaken me, for my
+horse cast a shoe, and came limping along for a mile or more, till at
+the smithy yonder by the roadside I found a farrier."</p>
+
+<p>"Bring my dear friend Mr. Thomas Williams on with you," said Sir
+Christopher loudly, as the door opened and a serving man came out; "he
+shall be welcome for old times' sake when we were at college together,
+and tell him I will not have him put up at the inn while there is a bed
+and a bottle at Stolham Manor."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span>Now neither Sir Christopher nor this visitor, who was the King's Groom
+of the Chamber, knew that the King, hearing the sound of horsemen behind
+him, had ridden past and turned down a bye-road, which all the same led
+him to Stolham; still less did they imagine that he was actually in the
+old manor house while they were talking there in the hall; because they
+had no notion of what had happened in the room where Mistress Dorothy
+was twanging the lyre, and the two young cousins were footing to the
+tune of Valparaiso Bay.</p>
+
+<p>While the children were in the very midst of a figure and Dick was
+snapping his fingers, and Cicely was making the grand <i>chasse</i>, Mistress
+Dorothy, glancing up from her music towards the window, had seen a pale
+face looking through the pane. She was not a woman to scream or to
+faint, for she was a quiet, staid, middle-aged person of much
+experience, and had lived in London, where she went to Court more than
+once with Sir Christopher and her kinswoman Dame Burroughs; so she kept
+on playing, and walked a little nearer to the window. The man who was
+outside&mdash;for it was a man, and he had climbed the angle of the wall, and
+now sat amidst the ivy close to the window-sill&mdash;beckoned to her, and as
+she advanced opened the breast of his coat, and showed a great jewel
+fastened with a gold chain under his vest.</p>
+
+<p>Another moment, and she had unfastened the window, and he had raised
+himself to the sill and come in. He was dressed like a servant,&mdash;a
+groom,&mdash;for he wore high riding-boots and spurs, and had a cloak
+strapped round his waist; he seemed to forget to take off his hat, but
+stood still in the middle of the room, as Mistress Dorothy suddenly
+knelt before him, and said in a whisper, "Children, children, kneel; it
+is the King!"</p>
+
+<p>Then the visitor removed his hat and showed his high, handsome face.
+Dick and Cicely also fell on their knees, but the King said, "Rise,
+madam; rise, little ones; and pardon my intrusion. I am travelling
+secretly, and was on my way hither when I found that I was followed, and
+so left my horse at the inn in the next village, and walked on. I would
+not that Sir Christopher Burroughs should be summoned, for my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> pursuers
+will ere long be at the gate, and, not finding me here, may pass."</p>
+
+<p>Now Dick Burroughs was as sharp a little blade as could be found between
+Stolham and Land's End, and quick as lightning he said, "But, Majesty,
+if it be no offence, let Cousin Cicely and I go on with our dancing, for
+there be some friends of Sir Christopher at supper, and should they or
+the servants no longer hear the lute, and think that we be tired, they
+may be sent to call us to bed, seeing that to-morrow will be May Day,
+and we shall rise early."</p>
+
+<p>"And then, Your Majesty," lisped Cicely, "if anybody break in and come
+up here and see us dancing, they will go away, and you can hide behind
+the hangings yonder."</p>
+
+<p>"You are a bright lad, and you a loyal little lady," said Charles, with
+a grave smile.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a horseman coming up the road," said Dick, in a whisper. "Your
+Majesty had best find a hiding-place, and I will show it you. Above this
+room is the turret, and behind the hangings here is a door, where a
+ladder goes straight up the wall to take you to the turret-room, from
+which you can see far up and down the road. Let me go first and light
+Your Majesty, and carry your cloak." Then, taking a candle from the
+music stand, he began to mount the steps.</p>
+
+<p>"Thou'rt a brave lad," said the King, "and I'll follow thee."</p>
+
+<p>"And it shall go hard but I'll get thee some supper, your Majesty," said
+Dick; "but Cis and I must keep on dancing till all the guests be
+gone,&mdash;and you will see who comes and leaves,&mdash;even if it be till
+daybreak, for there is a May moon shining all night."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mistress Dorothy, now, Cis," cried Dick, when he had come down and
+closed door and curtain, "music, music, for we must keep on dancing."
+The dancing never ceased, but Dick stole to the buttery and found a pie
+and a flagon of wine, which he carried with cup, knife, and napkin, to
+the King in the turret-room, and then down to dance again, till his legs
+ached and poor Cicely began to droop.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span>There was a knock at the door, and the stumbling of feet upon the stair,
+and then the voice of Sir Christopher outside saying, "What warrant ye
+have to enter this house I know not; but as you take not my word, look
+for yourselves.' With that he opened the door, and two men looked into
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Dance up, Cis," whispered Dick, who gave a skip, and pretended to see
+nobody. "Play a little faster, Mistress Dorothy."</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Sir Christopher, to the two fellows who stood outside,
+"mayhap you will leave these children to their sport till it is time for
+them to go to bed;" and with that he shut the door, and the fellows went
+lumbering down the stair. It seemed to be hours afterward when Sir
+Christopher again appeared. He opened the door suddenly, and he was not
+alone. Dame Burroughs was with him and a strange gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>"What! not in bed, you naughty rogues!" he said, as his eye fell on
+Cissy, who was sitting on the floor, her head upon her hands, fast
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p>"Dick, lad, what ails thee?" For Dick was standing by the hangings with
+the sword that he carried half-drawn from the scabbard, and great black
+rings round his eyes, and his legs trembling.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Dick," said the knight, "this is His Majesty's Groom of the
+Chambers, and I would that we knew where our royal master could be
+found."</p>
+
+<p>"Here he is," said a deep voice from behind the curtain, as the King
+drew it aside and stepped into the room. The music ceased, Madame
+Dorothy gave a great cry. Charles stooped and caught up Cicely from the
+ground in his arms and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, sweetheart," he said, "thou hast danced for the King till thou
+art half-dead, but the King will not forget thee. Richard, thou'rt a
+brave lad, and thou must come and kiss me, too. If we both live, thou
+shalt not repent having served Charles Stuart both with head and feet."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="A_MOTHER_OF_QUEENS" id="A_MOTHER_OF_QUEENS"></a>A MOTHER OF QUEENS.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A ROMANCE OF HISTORY.</i></h3>
+
+
+<p>One day, I will not say how many years ago, a young woman stepped from a
+country waggon that had just arrived at the famous Chelsea inn, "the
+Goat and Compasses," a name formed by corrupting time out of the pious
+original, "God encompasseth us."</p>
+
+<p>The young woman seemed about eighteen years of age and was neatly
+dressed, though in the plain rustic fashion of the times. She was well
+formed and good-looking, both form and looks giving indications of the
+ruddy health due to the bright sun and the fresh air of the country.</p>
+
+<p>After stepping from the waggon, which the driver immediately led into
+the court-yard, the girl stood for a moment uncertain which way to go,
+when the mistress of the inn, who had come to the door, observed her
+hesitation, and asked her to enter and take a rest.</p>
+
+<p>The young woman readily accepted the invitation, and soon after, by the
+kindness of the landlady, found herself by the fireside of a nicely
+sanded parlour, with a good meal before her&mdash;welcome indeed after her
+long and tedious journey.</p>
+
+<p>"And so, my girl," said the landlady, after having heard the whole
+particulars of the young woman's situation and history, "so thou hast
+come all this way to seek service, and hast no friend but John Hodge,
+the waggoner? Truly, he is like to give thee but small help, wench,
+towards getting a place."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span>"Is service, then, difficult to be had?" asked the young woman, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, marry, good situations, at least, are somewhat hard to find. But
+have a good heart, child," said the landlady, and as she continued she
+looked round her with an air of pride and dignity; "thou see'st what I
+have come to, myself; and I left the country a young thing, just like
+thyself, with as little to look to. But 'tisn't every one, for certain,
+that must look for such a fortune, and, in any case, it must first be
+worked for. I showed myself a good servant before my poor old Jacob,
+heaven rest his soul, made me mistress of 'the Goat and Compasses.' So
+mind thee, girl&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The landlady's speech might have continued indefinitely&mdash;for the good
+dame loved well to hear the sound of her own voice&mdash;but for the
+interruption occasioned by the entrance of a gentleman, whom the
+landlady rose and welcomed heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! dame," said the new-comer, who was a stout respectably attired man
+of middle age, "how sells the good ale? Scarcely a drop left in thy
+cellars, I hope?"</p>
+
+<p>"Enough left to give your worship a draught after your long walk," said
+the landlady, as she rose to fulfil the promise implied in her words. "I
+did not walk," was the gentleman's reply, "but took a pair of oars down
+the river. Thou know'st, dame, I always come to Chelsea myself to see if
+thou lackest anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, sir," replied the landlady, "and it is by that way of doing
+business that you have made yourself, as all the city says, the richest
+man in the Brewers' Corporation, if not in all London itself."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dame, the better for me if it is so," said the brewer, with a
+smile; "but let us have thy mug, and this pretty friend of thine shall
+pleasure us, mayhap, by tasting with us."</p>
+
+<p>The landlady was not long in producing a stoup of ale, knowing that her
+visitor never set an example hurtful to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> own interests by
+countenancing the consumption of foreign spirits.</p>
+
+<p>"Right, hostess," said the brewer, when he had tasted it, "well made and
+well kept, and that is giving both thee and me our dues. Now, pretty
+one," said he, filling one of the measures or glasses which had been
+placed beside the stoup, "wilt thou drink this to thy sweetheart's
+health?"</p>
+
+<p>The poor country girl to whom this was addressed declined the proffer
+civilly, and with a blush; but the landlady exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Come, silly wench, drink his worship's health; he is more likely to do
+thee a service, if it so please him, than John the waggoner. The girl
+has come many a mile," continued the hostess, "to seek a place in town,
+that she may burden her family no more at home."</p>
+
+<p>"To seek service!" exclaimed the brewer; "why, then, it is perhaps well
+met with us. Has she brought a character with her, or can you speak for
+her, dame?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has never yet been from home, sir, but her face is her character,"
+said the kind-hearted landlady; "I warrant me she will be a diligent and
+trusty one."</p>
+
+<p>"Upon thy prophecy, hostess, will I take her into my own service; for
+but yesterday was my housekeeper complaining of the want of help, since
+my office in the corporation has brought me more into the way of
+entertaining the people of the ward."</p>
+
+<p>Ere the wealthy brewer and deputy left "the Goat and Compasses,"
+arrangements were made for sending the country girl to his house in the
+city on the following day.</p>
+
+<p>Proud of having done a kind action, the garrulous hostess took advantage
+of the circumstance to deliver a long harangue to the young woman on her
+new duties, and on the dangers to which youth is exposed in large
+cities. The girl listened to her with modest thankfulness, but a more
+minute observer than the good landlady might have seen in the eye and
+countenance of the girl a quiet firmness of expression, such as might
+have shown the lecture to be unnecessary. However,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> the landlady's
+lecture ended, and towards the evening of the day following her arrival
+at "the Goat and Compasses," the girl found herself installed as
+housemaid in the home of the rich brewer.</p>
+
+<p>The fortunes of this girl it is our purpose to follow. It was not long
+before the post of housekeeper became vacant, and the girl, recommended
+by her own industry and skill, became housekeeper in the brewer's
+family. In this situation she was brought more than formerly into
+contact with her master, who found ample grounds for admiring her
+propriety of conduct, as well as her skilful economy of management. By
+degrees he began to find her presence necessary to his happiness; and at
+length offered her his hand. It was accepted; and she, who but four or
+five years before had left her country home a poor peasant girl, became
+the wife of one of the richest citizens of London.</p>
+
+<p>For many years, Mr. Aylesbury, for such was the name of the brewer, and
+his wife, lived in happiness and comfort together. He was a man of good
+family and connections, and consequently of higher breeding than his
+wife could boast of, but on no occasion had he ever to blush for the
+partner whom he had chosen.</p>
+
+<p>Her calm, inborn strength, if not dignity, of character, united with an
+extreme quickness of perception, made her fill her place at her
+husband's table with as much grace and credit as if she had been born to
+the station. As time ran on, Mr. Aylesbury became an alderman, and,
+subsequently, a sheriff of the city, and in consequence of the latter
+elevation, was knighted.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards the important place which the wealthy brewer filled in the
+city called down upon him the attention and favour of the king, Charles
+I., then anxious to conciliate the goodwill of the citizens, and the
+city knight received the farther honour of a baronetcy.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Aylesbury, in the first years of her married life, gave birth to a
+daughter, who proved an only child, and around whom, as was natural, all
+the hopes and wishes of the parents<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> entwined themselves. This daughter
+had only reached the age of seventeen when her father died, leaving an
+immense fortune behind him.</p>
+
+<p>It was at first thought that the widow and her daughter would become
+inheritors of this without the shadow of a dispute. But it proved
+otherwise. Certain relatives of the deceased brewer set up a plea upon
+the foundation of a will made in their favour before he married.</p>
+
+<p>With her wonted firmness, Lady Aylesbury immediately took steps for the
+vindication of her rights.</p>
+
+<p>A young lawyer, who had been a frequent guest at her husband's table,
+and of whose abilities she had formed a high opinion, was the person
+whom she fixed upon as her legal representative. Edward Hyde was,
+indeed, a youth of great ability. Though only twenty-four years of age
+at the period referred to, and though he had spent much of his youthful
+time in the society of the gay and fashionable of the day, he had not
+neglected the pursuits to which his family's wish, as well as his own
+tastes, had devoted him. But it was with considerable hesitation, and
+with a feeling of anxious diffidence, that he consented to undertake the
+charge of Lady Aylesbury's case; for certain feelings were at work in
+his heart which made him fearful of the responsibility, and anxious
+about the result.</p>
+
+<p>The young lawyer, however, became counsel for the brewer's widow and
+daughter, and, by a striking display of eloquence and legal knowledge,
+gained their suit.</p>
+
+<p>Two days afterwards, the successful pleader was seated beside his two
+clients. Lady Aylesbury's usual manner was quiet and composed, but she
+now spoke warmly of her gratitude to the preserver of her daughter from
+want, and also tendered a fee&mdash;a payment munificent, indeed, for the
+occasion.</p>
+
+<p>The young barrister did not seem at ease during Lady Aylesbury's
+expression of her feelings. He shifted upon his chair, changed colour,
+looked to Miss Aylesbury, played with the purse before him, tried to
+speak, but stopped short, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> changed colour again. Thinking only of
+best expressing her own gratitude, Lady Aylesbury appeared not to
+observe her visitor's confusion, but rose, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"In token that I hold your services above compensation in the way of
+money, I wish also to give you a memorial of my gratitude in another
+shape."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke thus, she drew from her pocket a bunch of keys such as
+every lady carried in those days, and left the room.</p>
+
+<p>What passed during her absence between the young people whom she had
+left together will be shown by the sequel. When Lady Aylesbury returned,
+she found her daughter standing with averted eyes, with her hand in that
+of the young barrister, who knelt on the mother's entrance, and besought
+her consent to their union. Confessions of mutual affection ensued, and
+Lady Aylesbury was not long in giving her consent to their wishes.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me leave, however," said she to the lover, "to place around your
+neck the memorial which I intended for you. The chain"&mdash;it was a superb
+gold one&mdash;"was a token of gratitude, from the ward in which he lived, to
+my dear husband." Lady Aylesbury's calm, serious eyes were filled with
+tears as she threw the chain round Edward's neck, saying, "These links
+were borne on the neck of a worthy and an honoured man. May thou, my
+beloved son, attain to still higher honours."</p>
+
+<p>The wish was fulfilled, though not until danger and suffering had tried
+severely the parties concerned. The son-in-law of Lady Aylesbury became
+an eminent member of the English bar, and also an important speaker in
+Parliament.</p>
+
+<p>When Oliver Cromwell brought the king to the scaffold, and established
+the Commonwealth, Sir Edward Hyde&mdash;for he had held a government post,
+and had been knighted&mdash;was too prominent a member of the royalist party
+to escape the attention of the new rulers, and was obliged to reside
+upon the continent till the Restoration.</p>
+
+<p>While abroad, he was so much esteemed by the exiled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> prince (afterwards
+Charles II.) as to be appointed Lord High Chancellor of England, which
+appointment was confirmed when the king was restored to his throne. Some
+years afterwards, Hyde was elevated to the peerage, first in the rank of
+a baron, and subsequently as Earl of Clarendon, a title which he made
+famous in English history.</p>
+
+<p>These events, so briefly narrated, occupied considerable time, during
+which Lady Aylesbury passed her days in quiet and retirement. She had
+now the gratification of beholding her daughter Countess of Clarendon,
+and of seeing the grandchildren who had been born to her mingling as
+equals with the noblest in the land.</p>
+
+<p>But a still more exalted fate awaited the descendants of the poor
+friendless girl who had come to London, in search of service, in a
+waggoner's van. Her granddaughter, Anne Hyde, a young lady of spirit,
+wit, and beauty, had been appointed, while her family were living
+abroad, one of the maids of honour to the Princess of Orange, and in
+that situation had attracted so strongly the regard of James, Duke of
+York, and brother of Charles II., that he contracted a private marriage
+with her.</p>
+
+<p>The birth of a child forced on a public announcement of this contract,
+and ere long the granddaughter of Lady Aylesbury was openly received by
+the Royal Family, and the people of England, as Duchess of York, and
+sister-in-law of the sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Aylesbury did not long survive this event. But ere she sunk into
+the grave, at a ripe old age, she saw her descendants heirs-presumptive
+of the British Crown. King Charles had married, but had no children,
+and, accordingly, his brother's family had the prospect and the right of
+succession. And, in reality, two immediate descendants of the poor
+peasant girl did ultimately fill the throne&mdash;Mary (wife of William
+III.), and Queen Anne.</p>
+
+<p>Such were the fortunes of the young woman whom the worthy landlady of
+"the Goat and Compasses" was fearful of encouraging to rash hopes by a
+reference to the lofty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> position it had been her good fortune to attain
+in life. In one assertion, at least, the hostess was undoubtedly
+right&mdash;success in life must be laboured for in some way or other.
+Without the prudence and propriety of conduct which won the esteem and
+love of her wealthy employer, the sequel of the country girl's history
+could not have been such as it was.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="THE_STORY_OF_GRIZEL_COCHRANE" id="THE_STORY_OF_GRIZEL_COCHRANE"></a>THE STORY OF GRIZEL COCHRANE.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY W. R. C.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Sir John Cochrane of Ochiltree, the father of our heroine, was the
+second son of the first Earl of Dundonald. He was a distinguished friend
+of Sidney, Russell, and other illustrious men, who signalised themselves
+in England by their opposition to the court; and he had so long
+endeavoured in vain to procure some improvement in the national affairs,
+that he at length began to despair of his country altogether, and formed
+the design of emigrating to America. Having gone to London in 1683, with
+a view to a colonising expedition to South Carolina, he became involved
+in the deliberations of the Whig party, which at that time tended
+towards a general insurrection in England and Scotland, for the purpose
+of forcing an alteration of the royal councils and the exclusion of the
+Duke of York from the throne. In furtherance of this plan, Sir John
+pledged himself to assist the Earl of Argyle in raising the malcontents
+in Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>By the treachery of some of the subordinate agents this design was
+detected prematurely; and while some were unfortunately taken and
+executed, among whom were Sidney and Lord Russell, the rest fled from
+the kingdom. Of the latter number were the Earl of Argyle, Sir John
+Cochrane, and Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth. The fugitives found safety
+in Holland, where they remained in peace till the death of Charles II.
+in February 1685, when the Duke of York, the object politically of their
+greatest detestation, became king. It was then determined to invade
+Scotland with a small force, to embody the Highland adherents of Argyle
+with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> west country Presbyterians, and, marching into England, to
+raise the people as they moved along, and not rest till they had
+produced the desired melioration of the state. The expedition sailed in
+May; but the Government was enabled to take such precautions as, from
+the very first, proved a complete frustration to their designs. Argyle
+lingered timidly in his own country, and, finally, against the advice of
+Cochrane and Hume, who were his chief officers, made some unfortunate
+movements, which ended in the entire dissolution of his army, and his
+own capture and death. While this well-meaning but weak nobleman
+committed himself to a low disguise, in the vain hope of effecting his
+escape, Sir John Cochrane, after a gallant fight against overwhelming
+numbers, finding his enemies were gathering large reinforcements,
+retired with his troops to a neighbouring wilderness or morass, where he
+dismissed them, with the request that each man would provide the best
+way he could for his own safety. For himself, having received two severe
+wounds in the body during the engagement, and being worn out with
+fatigue, he sought refuge in the house of his uncle, Mr. Gavin Cochrane
+of Craigmuir, who lived at no great distance from the place of
+encounter. Here he was seized and removed to Edinburgh, where, after
+being paraded through the streets bound and bare-headed, and conducted
+by the common hangman, he was lodged in the tollbooth on July 3rd, 1685,
+there to await his trial as a traitor. The day of trial came, and he was
+condemned to death, in spite of the most strenuous exertions of his aged
+father, Earl of Dundonald.</p>
+
+<p>No friend or relative had been permitted to see him from the time of his
+apprehension; but it was now signified to him that any of his family he
+desired to communicate with might be allowed to visit him. Anxious,
+however, to deprive his enemies of an opportunity of an accusation
+against his sons, he immediately conveyed to them his earnest
+entreaties, and indeed commands, that they should refrain from availing
+themselves of this leave till the night before his execution. This was a
+sacrifice which it required his utmost fortitude to make; and it had
+left him to a sense of the most desolate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> loneliness, insomuch that,
+when, late in the evening, he heard his prison door unlocked, he lifted
+not his eyes toward it, imagining that the person who entered could only
+be the gaoler, who was particularly repulsive in his countenance and
+manner. What, then, was his surprise and momentary delight when he
+beheld before him his only daughter, and felt her arms entwining his
+neck! After the first transport of greeting she became sensible that, in
+order to palliate his misery, she must put a strong curb upon her own,
+and in a short time was calm enough to enter into conversation with her
+father upon the subject of his present situation, and to deliver a
+message from the old earl, her grandfather, by which he was informed
+that an appeal had been made from him to the king, and means taken to
+propitiate Father Peters, his Majesty's confessor, who, it was well
+known, often dictated to him in matters of state. It appeared evident,
+however, by the turn which their discourse presently took, that neither
+father nor daughter were at all sanguine in their hopes from this
+negotiation. The Earl of Argyle had been executed but a few days before,
+as had also several of his principal adherents, though men of less
+consequence than Sir John Cochrane; and it was therefore improbable that
+he, who had been so conspicuously active in the insurrection, should be
+allowed to escape the punishment which his enemies had it now in their
+power to inflict. Besides all this, the treaty to be entered into with
+Father Peters would require some time to adjust, and meanwhile the
+arrival of the warrant for execution must every day be looked for.</p>
+
+<p>Under these circumstances, several days passed, each of which found Miss
+Grizel Cochrane an inmate of her father's prison for as many hours as
+she was permitted. Grizel Cochrane was only at that period eighteen
+years old; she had, however, a natural strength of character, that
+rendered her capable of a deed which has caused her history to vie with
+that of the most distinguished of heroines.</p>
+
+<p>Ever since her father's condemnation, her daily and nightly thoughts had
+dwelt on the fear of her grandfather's communication with the king's
+confessor being rendered unavailable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> for want of the time necessary for
+enabling the friends in London to whom it was trusted, to make their
+application, and she boldly determined to execute a plan, whereby the
+arrival of the death-warrant would be retarded.</p>
+
+<p>At that time horses were used as a mode of conveyance so much more than
+carriages that almost every gentlewoman had her own steed, and Miss
+Cochrane, being a skilful rider, was possessed of a well-managed
+palfrey, on whose speed and other good qualities she had been accustomed
+to depend. One morning after she had bidden her father farewell, long
+ere the inhabitants of Edinburgh were astir, she found herself many
+miles on the road to the borders. She had taken care to attire herself
+in a manner which corresponded with the design of passing herself off
+for a young serving-woman journeying on a borrowed horse to the house of
+her mother in a distant part of the country; and by only resting at
+solitary cottages, where she generally found the family out at work,
+save perhaps an old woman or some children, she had the good fortune, on
+the second day after leaving Edinburgh, to reach in safety the abode of
+her old nurse, who lived on the English side of the Tweed, four miles
+beyond the town of Berwick. In this woman she knew she could place
+implicit confidence, and to her, therefore, revealed her secret. She had
+resolved, she said, to make an attempt to save her father's life, by
+stopping the postman, an equestrian like herself, and forcing him to
+deliver up his bags, in which she expected to find the fatal warrant. In
+pursuance of this design she had brought with her a brace of small
+pistols, together with a horseman's cloak, tied up in a bundle, and hung
+on the crutch of her saddle, and now borrowed from her nurse the attire
+of her foster-brother, which, as he was a slight-made lad, fitted her
+reasonably well.</p>
+
+<p>She had, by means which it is unnecessary here to detail, possessed
+herself of the most minute information with regard to the places at
+which the postmen rested on their journey, one of which was a small
+public-house, kept by a widow woman, on the outskirts of the little town
+of Belford. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> the man who received the bag at Durham was accustomed
+to arrive about six o'clock in the morning, and take a few hours' repose
+before proceeding farther on his journey. In pursuance of the plan laid
+down by Miss Cochrane, she arrived at this inn about an hour after the
+man had composed himself to sleep, in the hope of being able, by the
+exercise of her wit and dexterity, to ease him of his charge.</p>
+
+<p>Having put her horse into the stable, which was a duty that devolved on
+the guests at this little change-house, from its mistress having no
+ostler, she entered the only apartment which the house afforded, and
+demanded some refreshment. "Sit down at the end of that table," said the
+old woman, "for the best I have to give you is there already; and be
+pleased, my bonny man, to make as little noise as ye can, for there's
+ane asleep in that bed that I like ill to disturb." Miss Cochrane
+promised fairly; and after attempting to eat some of the viands, which
+were the remains of the sleeping man's meal, she asked for some cold
+water. "What," said the old dame, as she handed it to her, "ye are a
+water-drinker, are ye? It's but an ill custom for a change-house." "I am
+aware of that," replied her guest, "and, therefore, when in a public
+house, always pay for it the price of the stronger potation, which I
+cannot take." "Indeed&mdash;well, that is but just," responded the dame, "and
+I think the more of you for such reasonable conduct." "Is the well where
+you get this water near at hand?" said the young lady; "for if you will
+take the trouble to bring me some from it, as this is rather warm, it
+shall be considered in the lawing." "It is a good bit off," said the
+woman; "but I cannot refuse to fetch some for such a civil, discreet
+lad, and will be as quick as I can. But, for any sake, take care and
+don't meddle with these pistols," she continued, pointing to a pair of
+pistols on the table, "for they are loaded, and I am always terrified
+for them." Saying this, she disappeared; and Miss Cochrane, who would
+have contrived some other errand for her had the well been near, no
+sooner saw the door shut than she passed, with trembling eagerness, and
+a cautious but rapid step, across the floor to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> the place where the man
+lay soundly sleeping in one of those close wooden bedsteads common in
+the houses of the poor, the door of which was left half open to admit
+the air, and which she opened still wider, in the hope of seeing the
+mail-bag and being able to seize upon it. But what was her dismay when
+she beheld only a part of the integument which contained what she would
+have sacrificed her life a thousand times to obtain just peeping out
+from below the shaggy head and brawny shoulders of its keeper, who lay
+in such a position upon it as to give not the smallest hope of its
+extraction without his being aroused from his nap. A few moments of
+observation served to convince her that, if she obtained possession of
+this treasure, it must be in some other way, and again closing the door
+of the bed, she approached the pistols, and having taken them one by one
+from the holsters she as quickly as possible drew out their loading,
+which, having secreted, she returned them to their cases, and resumed
+her seat at the foot of the table. Here she had barely time to recover
+from the agitation into which the fear of the man's awaking during her
+recent occupation had thrown her, when the old woman returned with the
+water, and having taken a draught, of which she stood much in need, she
+settled her account, much to her landlady's content, by paying for the
+water the price of a pot of beer. Having then carelessly asked and
+ascertained how much longer the other guest was likely to continue his
+sleep, she left the house, and mounting her horse, set off at a trot, in
+a different direction from that in which she had arrived. Fetching a
+compass of two or three miles, she once more fell into the high road
+between Belford and Berwick, where she walked her horse gently on,
+awaiting the coming up of the postman. On his coming close up, she
+civilly saluted him, put her horse into the same pace with his, and rode
+on for some way in his company. He was a strong, thick-set fellow, with
+a good-humoured countenance, which did not seem to Miss Cochrane, as she
+looked anxiously upon it, to savour much of hardy daring. He rode with
+the mail-bags strapped firmly to his saddle in front, close to the
+holsters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> (for there were two), one containing the letters direct from
+London, and the other those taken up at the different post-offices on
+the road. After riding a short distance together, Miss Cochrane deemed
+it time, as they were nearly half-way between Belford and Berwick, to
+commence her operations. She therefore rode nearly close to her
+companion, and said, in a tone of determination, "Friend, I have taken a
+fancy for those mail-bags of yours, and I must have them; therefore take
+my advice, and deliver them up quietly, for I am provided for all
+hazards. I am mounted, as you see, on a fleet steed; I carry firearms;
+and, moreover, am allied with those who are stronger, though not bolder
+than myself. You see yonder wood," she continued, pointing to one at the
+distance of about a mile, with an accent and air which was meant to
+carry intimidation with it. "Again, I say, take my advice; give me the
+bags, and speed back the road you came for the present, nor dare to
+approach that wood for at least two or three hours to come."</p>
+
+<p>There was in such language from a stripling something so surprising that
+the man looked on Miss Cochrane for an instant in silent and unfeigned
+amazement. "If," said he, as soon as he found his tongue, "you mean, my
+young master, to make yourself merry at my expense, you are welcome. I
+am no sour churl to take offence at the idle words of a foolish boy. But
+if," he said, taking one of his pistols from the holster, and turning
+its muzzle toward her, "ye are mad enough to harbour one serious thought
+of such a matter, I am ready for you. But, methinks, my lad, you seem at
+an age when robbing a garden or an old woman's fruit-stall would befit
+you better, if you must turn thief, than taking his Majesty's mails from
+a stout man such as I am upon his highway. Be thankful, however, that
+you have met with one who will not shed blood if he can help it, and
+sheer off before you provoke me to fire."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," said his young antagonist, "I am not fonder of bloodshed than you
+are; but if you will not be persuaded, what can I do? for I have told
+you a truth, <i>that mail I must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> and will have</i>. So now choose," she
+continued, as she drew one of the small pistols from under her cloak,
+and deliberately cocking it, presented it in his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, then, your blood be on your own head," said the fellow, as he
+raised his hand, and fired his pistol, which, however, only flashed in
+the pan. Dashing this weapon to the ground, he lost not a moment in
+pulling out the other, which he also aimed at his assailant, and fired
+with the same result. In a transport of rage and disappointment the man
+sprang from his horse and made an attempt to seize her; but, by an
+adroit use of her spurs, she eluded his grasp and placed herself out of
+his reach. Meanwhile, his horse had moved forward some yards, and to see
+and seize the advantage presented by this circumstance was one and the
+same to the heroic girl, who, darting toward it, caught the bridle, and
+having led her prize off about a hundred yards, stopped while she called
+to the thunderstruck postman to remind him of her advice about the wood.
+She then put both horses to their speed, and on turning to look at the
+man she had robbed, had the pleasure of perceiving that her mysterious
+threat had taken effect, and he was now pursuing his way back to
+Belford.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Cochrane speedily entered the wood to which she had alluded, and
+tying the strange horse to a tree, out of all observation from the road,
+proceeded to unfasten the straps of the mail. By means of a sharp
+penknife, which set at defiance the appended locks, she was soon
+mistress of the contents, and with an eager hand broke open the
+Government despatches, which were unerringly pointed out to her by their
+address to the council in Edinburgh and their imposing weight and broad
+seals of office. Here she found not only the fatal warrant for her
+father's death, but also many other sentences inflicting different
+degrees of punishment on various delinquents. These, however, it may
+readily be supposed, she did not then stop to examine; she contented
+herself with tearing them into small fragments and placing them
+carefully in her bosom.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span>The intrepid girl now mounted her steed and rode off, leaving all the
+private papers where she had found them, imagining (what eventually
+proved the case) that they would be discovered ere long from the hints
+she had thrown out about the wood, and thus reach their proper places of
+destination. She now made all haste to reach the cottage of her nurse,
+where, having not only committed to the flames the fragments of the
+dreaded warrant, but also the other obnoxious papers, she quickly
+resumed her female garments, and was again, after this manly and daring
+action, the simple and unassuming Miss Grizel Cochrane. Leaving the
+cloak and pistols behind her, to be concealed by her nurse, she again
+mounted her horse and directed her flight towards Edinburgh, and, by
+avoiding as much as possible the high road, and resting at sequestered
+cottages, as she had done before, and that only twice for a couple of
+hours each time, she reached town early in the morning of the next day.</p>
+
+<p>It must now suffice to say that the time gained by the heroic act
+related above was productive of the end for which it was undertaken, and
+that Sir John Cochrane was pardoned, at the instigation of the king's
+favourite counsellor, who interceded for him in consequence of receiving
+a bribe of five thousand pounds from the Earl of Dundonald.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="A_WIFES_STRATAGEM" id="A_WIFES_STRATAGEM"></a>A WIFE'S STRATAGEM.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A TALE OF 1715.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY LUCY HARDY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was with mingled feelings of annoyance and satisfaction that old Lady
+Glenlivet and her daughters received the intelligence that the only son
+of the house was about to bring an English bride to the grey old Scotch
+mansion where so many generations of his "forbears" had lived and died.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Alick was six-and-twenty, and it was therefore fully time that he
+should marry and carry on the traditions of the house, and, as the
+Glenlivet's fortune did not match their "long pedigree," it was
+distinctly an advantage that the newly-wedded bride was so well dowered.
+But then, on the other hand, Mistress Mary Wilkinson was an
+Englishwoman, and Lady Glenlivet more than suspected the fact (adroitly
+veiled in her son's letter) that the young lady's fortune had been made
+in trade.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Alick Glenlivet, visiting London for the first time in his life, had
+been hospitably entertained by a distant kinsman, a Scotch lawyer, who
+had settled in the English metropolis; and at his house had met with the
+orphan heiress of a substantial city trader, to whom Simon Glenlivet was
+guardian. To Alick, bred up in the comparative seclusion and obscurity
+of his Scottish home, the plunge into London life was as bewildering as
+delightful; and he soon thought sweet Mary Wilkinson, with her soft blue
+eyes and gentle voice, the fairest creature his eyes had ever rested
+upon; while to Mary, the handsome young Scotchman was like the hero in a
+Border tale.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span>"Happy the wooing that's not long a-doing." Mistress Mary was
+twenty-two, so of legal age to please herself in her choice of a
+husband; while Simon Glenlivet was still sufficiently a Scotchman at
+heart to consider an alliance with the "ancient and noble family" with
+which he himself claimed kinship an advantage which might fairly
+outbalance his lack of fortune.</p>
+
+<p>To do the young man justice, Mary's wealth counted for nothing in his
+choice; he would as readily have married her had the fortune been all on
+his side. Indeed, it was with some qualms of conscience that Sir Alick
+now wrote to inform his mother of the sudden step which he had taken;
+half fearing that, in the eyes of the proud old Scotch dame, even Mary's
+beauty and fortune could scarcely compensate for her lack of "long
+descent."</p>
+
+<p>And indeed, Lady Glenlivet's Highland pride was not at all well pleased
+to learn that her son had wedded a trader's daughter; though Mary (or
+Maisie, as her husband now called her) had received the education of a
+refined gentlewoman, and was far more well bred and accomplished than
+were the two tall, awkward daughters of the Glenlivet household; or, for
+the matter of that, than was the "auld leddy hersel'."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Glenlivet, however, loved her son, and stifled down her feelings of
+disapproval for his sake. It was undeniable that Mary's money came in
+most usefully in paying off the mortgages which had so long crippled the
+Glenlivet estate; and when the bride and bridegroom arrived at their
+Scotch home, the ladies were speechless in their admiration at the
+bride's "providing." Such marvels of lace and brocades, such treasures
+of jewellery, such a display of new fashions had never been known in the
+neighbourhood before; and Isobel and Barbara, if not inclined to fall
+rapturously in love with their new sister, at least utterly lost their
+hearts over her wardrobe&mdash;not such a very extensive or extravagant one
+after all, the bride had thought; but, in the eighteenth century, a
+wealthy London trader's only child would be reared in a far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> more
+luxurious manner than the daughters of many a "long descended" Scotch
+household.</p>
+
+<p>Mary, or Maisie, certainly found her new home lacking in many comforts
+which were almost necessaries in her eyes; but the girl was young, and
+sweet-tempered, and devotedly attached to her brave young husband, who
+equally adored his young wife. The prejudice excited against the
+new-comer on the score of her nationality and social rank softened down
+as the months went by; although old Lady Glenlivet often remarked that
+Maisie was "just English" whenever the younger lady's opinions or wishes
+did not entirely coincide with her own.</p>
+
+<p>In the kindly patriarchial fashion of Scottish households of the day,
+Sir Alick's mother and sisters still resided under his roof; and Maisie,
+gentle and retiring by nature, never dreamt of attempting to depose the
+old lady from her position of house-mistress; so the "auld leddy" still
+kept the keys, and ruled the servants, and was as busy and notable as of
+yore; her new daughter being, in truth, often far more submissive to the
+good dame's sway than were either Isobel or Barbara, who occasionally
+"took the dorts" and would have their own wills.</p>
+
+<p>Yet Maisie was happy enough in her new life&mdash;for had she not Alick and
+his devotion?&mdash;until dark clouds began to gather in the political
+horizon.</p>
+
+<p>It was the year 1715, a year to be remembered in many an English and
+Scottish household for many a year to come. Whispers of plots and
+conspiracies were flying about the land; for the coming of the "wee
+German lairdie" was by no means universally acceptable, and many
+Jacobites who had acquiesced in the accession of "good Queen Anne"
+herself (a member of the ancient royal house), now shrank from
+acknowledging "the Elector" as their monarch. Simon Glenlivet, a shrewd
+and prudent man, who had lived in London and watched the course of
+political events, had long ago laid aside any romantic enthusiasm for
+the cause of the exiled Stuarts, if he had ever possessed such a
+feeling; realising perhaps the truth of Sir John Maynard's reply to
+William<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> III. when the king asked the old man if he had not survived
+"all his brother lawyers," "Ay, and if your Majesty had not come, I
+might shortly <i>have survived the law itself</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Maisie's father, like most of his brother-citizens, had welcomed the
+"Deliverer" with acclamations, and would doubtless have greeted the
+accession of George I. with equal enthusiasm had he lived to witness it.
+It was only after she crossed the Border that Maisie had heard the son
+of James II. alluded to save as the "Pretender," to whom his enemies
+denied any kinship with the Stuarts at all. Maisie, wise and discreet
+beyond her years, speedily learnt to stifle her own political opinions
+amid her husband's family circle; though indeed she was no eager
+supporter of any party. She had been duly taught that it was a duty to
+submit to the "powers that be," and to pray daily for the king; and like
+a dutiful little maiden of her time, piously obeyed her teacher's and
+guardian's injunctions, without troubling her head as to whether the
+actual lawful monarch of England was keeping his court at St. Germains
+or St. James'. And Maisie's husband, to tell the truth, was scarcely a
+more vehement or interested politician than herself; though Sir Alick
+called himself a Jacobite because his father and mother had been
+Jacobites before him. Lady Glenlivet, a woman of narrow education and
+deeply rooted prejudices, was a strong partisan of the Stuart cause;
+strong with all the unreasoning vehemence of a worthy but ignorant
+woman. So, when the Earl of Mar's disastrous expedition was being
+secretly organised, the emissaries of the plotters found ready
+acceptance with the "auld leddy," who scrupled not to press and urge her
+son to join the "glorious undertaking" which should restore her lawful
+king to Scotland and bring added honours and lands to the Glenlivet
+family. Sir Alick, supremely happy in his domestic life, had at first
+small desire for embarking in the hazardous scheme of the wisdom and
+justice of which he felt less positively assured than did his mother.
+Sir Alick had seen something of the world during his visit to London,
+and had not been entirely uninfluenced by the views of his wise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span>
+kinsman. But Lady Glenlivet was not the only foolish woman at that epoch
+who forced a wiser judging husband, son, or brother into joining a
+conspiracy which his better sense condemned; and Sir Alick, always
+greatly under his mother's influence, at length consented to attend that
+historic meeting at Braemar in the autumn of 1715, where, under pretence
+of a hunting party, the Earl of Mar assembled the disaffected Scottish
+nobility and gentry, and raised the Stuart standard, proclaiming King
+James III. of England and VII. of Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>The "fiery cross" was circulated through the Highlands, and Sir Alick
+returned to his home to raise a troop of his own tenants and clansmen,
+at whose head he proposed to join the Earl of Mar.</p>
+
+<p>Maisie, ordinarily so gentle and retiring, was now roused to unwonted
+and passionate protest. The scheme for the threatened "rising" was not
+unknown in England; and Simon Glenlivet wrote to his quondam ward,
+urging her most strongly to dissuade her husband from joining a rash
+conspiracy which could only bring ruin upon all who were engaged in it.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis hopeless&mdash;and I thank Heaven that it is so&mdash;to think of
+overturning the present condition of things," wrote the cautious London
+Scot; "and they who take part in this mad conspiracy&mdash;of which the
+English Government have fuller details than the conspirators wot
+of&mdash;will but lose their lands, and it may be their heads to boot. I pray
+thee, my pretty Molly, keep thy husband out of this snare."</p>
+
+<p>But this command was not so easily followed. Since his visit to Braemar,
+Alick himself had caught the war fever, and, for once, his wife's
+entreaties, nay, even her tears and prayers, were disregarded by her
+husband! Sir Alick was all love and tenderness, but join the glorious
+expedition he must and would, encouraged in this resolve by mother,
+sister, and kinsfolk; Maisie's being the only dissenting voice; and, as
+Lady Glenlivet tauntingly remarked to her daughter-in-law, "it was not
+for the child of a mere English pock-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span>pudding to decide what was fitting
+conduct for a Highland noble&mdash;Maisie should remember she had wedded into
+an honourable house, and not strive to draw her husband aside from the
+path of duty."</p>
+
+<p>Unheeded by her husband, derided and taunted by his mother, Maisie could
+but weep in silent despair.</p>
+
+<p>And so the day of parting came, and Alick, looking splendidly handsome
+in his military attire, stood to take his last farewell of wife and
+kindred, and to drink a parting cup to the success of the expedition.</p>
+
+<p>"Fill me the quaick, Maisie," he said, with a kindly smile turning to
+his pale and heavy-eyed young wife. "Ye'll soon see me come back again
+to bid ye all put on your braws to grace the king's coronation at
+Edinburgh." To which hope Lady Glenlivet piously cried "Amen"; and
+Maisie turned to mix the stirrup cup, for the morning was raw and cold.</p>
+
+<p>"Let Isobel lift the kettle, lass; it's far too heavy for thee," cried
+Lady Glenlivet; but alas! too late, for Maisie stumbled as she turned
+from the fire, and the chief part of the scalding water was emptied into
+one of the young man's long riding boots.</p>
+
+<p>Alick's sudden yell of pain almost drowned Maisie's sobbing cry, and old
+Lady Glenlivet furiously exclaimed, forgetful of all courtesies,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Ye wretched gawk! ye little fule! ye ha' killed my puir lad!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, nay, na sae bad as that, I judge. Dinna greet, Maisie, my bonnie
+bird&mdash;ye couldna help it, my dow," cried Alick, recovering himself, and
+making a heroic effort to conceal the pain he felt. "Look to her, some
+of ye," he added sharply, as Maisie sank fainting on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very severe scald, said the doctor whom the alarmed household
+quickly summoned, and it would be many a long day before Sir Alick would
+be fit to wear his boot or put foot in saddle again.</p>
+
+<p>But thanks greatly to the devoted nursing he received from wife and
+mother, and to his own youth and health,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span> Sir Alick completely recovered
+from the injury. But in the meantime, the bubble had burst, Sherrifmuir
+had been fought, Mar's army had been totally routed, the prisons in
+England and Scotland had been filled with his misguided followers, and
+the headsman and the hangman were beginning their ghastly work.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Alick, thanks to the accident which had prevented his taking any
+overt part in the rebellion, had escaped both imprisonment and
+confiscation; and it was probably Simon Glenlivet's influence which had
+availed to cover over Sir Alick's dalliance with the Jacobite plotters.</p>
+
+<p>Maisie had proved herself a most tender and efficient nurse, but it was
+now her turn to be ill, and one quiet day, after she had presented her
+lord with an heir to the Glenlivet name, she told him the whole truth
+about that lucky accident with the boiling water; but auld Leddy
+Glenlivet never knew that her son had been saved from a rebel's fate by
+a wife's stratagem.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="THE_KINGS_TRAGEDY" id="THE_KINGS_TRAGEDY"></a>THE KING'S TRAGEDY.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>AN HISTORICAL TALE.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY ALFRED H. MILES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the year 1436, a party of horsemen, weary and belated, were seen
+hurrying amid the deepening darkness of a December day towards the ferry
+of the Firth of Forth. Their high carriage, no less than the quality of
+their accoutrements, albeit dimmed and travel-stained by the splash of
+flood and field, showed them to be more than a mere party of traders
+seeking safety in numbers, and travelling in pursuit of gain. In the
+centre of the group rode a horseman, whose aspect and demeanour marked
+him as the chief, if not the leader, of the band; and by his side a
+lady, whose grace and beauty could not be altogether concealed by the
+closeness of her attire or the darkness of the night. These were the
+King and Queen of Scotland, James the First and his fair wife Joan,
+surrounded by a small band of faithful followers, bound for the
+monastery of the Black Friars of Perth to hold Christmas Carnival.</p>
+
+<p>The weather and the day were wild enough, and these but only too truly
+reflected the surging passions of human hearts. The brave young king's
+desire to put down the marauding practices of his Highland subjects, and
+bring about a condition of things under which a "key" should be
+sufficient keep for a "castle," and a "bracken bush" enough protection
+for a "cow," together with, perhaps, a not always wise way of working so
+good a cause, had provoked the hostility of some of the Highland chiefs
+who lived by stealing their neighbours' property. This disaffection
+became formidable under the leadership of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> Sir Richard Graeme, brother
+of the Earl of Stratherne, whose earldom had been confiscated by the
+king, who feared its power with perhaps less justice than became his
+high purpose, and James and his retainers had need to watch and ward
+against open enemies and secret foes.</p>
+
+<p>Silently, if not mournfully, the little band moved on, picking its way
+along the uneven shore, and peering anxiously through the deepening
+shadows for signs of the distant ferry. Like a cavalcade of ghosts, but
+dimly seen as dimly seeing, they pressed on, all eyes for what light
+might give them guidance, all ears for what sound might give them
+warning.</p>
+
+<p>As they were descending to the beach, at the point where the ferry
+crossed the water, sight and sound combined to startle if not to terrify
+them; for out from behind a pile of rocks there sprang a wild, weird
+woman, who with waving arms and frantic shouts motioned them to go back.
+In an instant the whole cavalcade was in confusion. The horses reared
+and plunged, the men shouted and demanded who was there, and all the
+while the weird figure, whose tattered garments fluttered fantastically
+in the wind, waved her skinny arms wildly, and shouted, "Go back!"</p>
+
+<p>Thinking that the woman might have some news of importance to the king,
+some of the retainers spurred forward and interrogated her; but she
+would say them nothing but "Go back"; adding at last "For the king
+alone&mdash;for the king alone!" Judging that she might desire to warn him of
+some treachery, even among his followers, the king rode forward and
+spoke to her, when, waving her hands towards the water, she screamed,
+"If once you cross that water, you will never return alive!" The king
+asked for news, but the old witch was not a chronicler but a prophetess,
+and catching at the king's rein she sought to turn him back.</p>
+
+<p>By this time the retinue had closed in upon the singular pair, and the
+queen's anxiety doubtless stimulated the king's action. Shaking from his
+rein the woman's hand, he cried, "Forward!" and in a few moments the
+party had left the stormy land for the scarce more stormy sea.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span>After crossing the Firth of Forth the party made rapid progress, and in
+due course were safely and comfortably housed in the old monastery of
+the Dominicans of Perth. The gaieties of Court and Carnival soon
+obliterated, for a time at least, the memory of the discomforts of the
+journey; and the warning of the old witch, if remembered at all, was
+thought of with pity or dismissed with mirth. The festivities, which
+were maintained with vigour and brilliance for a considerable time,
+surrounded the king with both friends and foes. Sir Robert Stuart, who
+had been promised the kingdom by Sir Richard Graeme, was actually acting
+as chamberlain to the king he was plotting to dethrone; and the Earl of
+Athole and other conspirators were among the guests who, with loyal
+protestations, pledged the king's health and prosperity. Towards the
+close of the Carnival, when the month of February 1437 had almost waned
+to a close, while the rain beat upon the windows and the wind whistled
+wildly around the roof of the old monastery, in grim contrast with the
+scene of merriment that graced the halls within, the guests were
+startled by a loud knocking at the outer door. The king, gayest among
+the gay, was singing "The King's Quhair," a ballad of his own writing,
+when the usher interrupted him to announce the old witch of the Firth of
+Forth. She says "she must have speech with you," said the usher, and
+that her words "admit of no delay." But James was annoyed by the
+interruption, and, as it was midnight, ordered her to be sent away,
+promising to see her on the morrow. Driven forth at the king's command,
+the old beldame wrung her hands, and cried, "Woe! woe! To-morrow I shall
+not see his face!" and the usher, upon the king's interrogation,
+repeated her words to him and to the queen. Upon hearing them, both were
+filled with anxiety and fear, and thinking it best to close the
+festivities of the evening the king gave the signal for the finish of
+the feast, and the guests slowly separated and left the hall. The king's
+chamberlain was the last to leave, and his errand was one of treachery.</p>
+
+<p>During the day the conspirators had been busily preparing for their
+opportunity. The locks of the hall had been tampered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> with so that their
+keys were of no avail. The bars by which the gates were barricaded were
+removed from their accustomed place. Planks had been surreptitiously
+placed across the moat that the enemy might obtain easy access to the
+stronghold; and Sir Richard Graeme, with three hundred followers in his
+train, was waiting for the signal to advance.</p>
+
+<p>James and his wife stood hand in hand before the log fire of the great
+hall, while the bower-maidens of the queen prepared the royal bed in an
+alcove leading from the chamber. The old crone's warning had struck
+terror to the queen's heart, and unnerved the courage of the king. While
+looking anxiously at the burning logs in the fireplace, again they heard
+the voice of the witch, inarticulate in its frenzy, uttering a wild,
+wailing scream. In an instant the waiting-women had drawn back the
+curtains, and the red glow of a hundred torches flashed upon the walls
+of the Hall. The king looked round for a weapon, but there was none to
+be found; he shouted to the women to shut the bolts, but the bolts had
+been removed; he tried the windows, they were fast and barred; and then,
+hearing the approach of his enemies along the passage, he stood with
+folded arms in the centre of the Hall to wait for death.</p>
+
+<p>Beneath the Hall lay the unused and forgotten vaults of the monastery;
+and in the king's extremity it occurred to Catherine Douglas, one of the
+waiting-women, that these might give the king a chance of escape. There
+was not a moment to lose, so, seizing the heavy tongs from the
+fireplace, she forced them into the king's hand, and motioned him to
+remove the flooring and hide in the crypt below. Spurred to desperation
+the king seized the tongs, and proceeded to force up the flooring of the
+hall; but the sound of his approaching enemies came nearer and nearer,
+and the flooring was strong and tough. To give time the women made a
+desperate attempt to pull a heavy table in front of the door, but it was
+heavier than they could move. In another moment the floor had given way,
+and, with a hurried embrace, the king squeezed through the flooring and
+dropped into the vault. Then came the replacing of the boards&mdash;could
+they possibly do it in the time? A clash of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> arms in the passage showed
+that at least one sentinel was true; but the arm of one was but a poor
+barrier against so large a force. Another moment and the flooring would
+give no evidence of the secret that it held, for the queen and her
+bower-maidens were replacing it with all speed. Again the tread of the
+approaching conspirators; the sentinel has paid for his fidelity with
+death. Is there no arm can save?</p>
+
+<p>At this moment, as with a flash of inspiration, the thought came into
+her mind. Catherine Douglas, one of the bower-maidens, rushed forward
+and thrust her arm through the staple of the removed bolt, and for a
+little while a woman's arm held a hundred men at bay.</p>
+
+<p>It was a terrible moment, and as the poor bruised arm gave way at last
+Catherine Douglas fell fainting to the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Richard Graeme and his followers, having forced an entrance, made
+hot and eager search, but without avail. One of them placed his dagger
+at the queen's breast and demanded to know where the king was, and would
+have killed her had not the young Graeme caught back his arm and said,
+"She is a woman; we seek the king." At last, tired by their fruitless
+search, they left the Hall, and then, unfortunately, the king requested
+the women to draw him up from the vault again. This they attempted to
+do, with ropes made from the sheets from the bed, but they were not
+strong enough, and one of them, a sister of Catherine Douglas, was
+pulled down into the vault below. Attracted by the noise of this
+attempt, the conspirators returned, and the traitor chamberlain revealed
+the secret of the hidden vaults. In a few moments all was over,&mdash;the
+flooring was torn up, and, more like wild beasts than men, one after
+another the king's enemies dropped into the vault, attacking him,
+unarmed as he was, and killing him with many wounds. How the queen
+ultimately revenged herself upon the king's assassins is matter of
+history; but the story is chiefly interesting for its record of the
+heroic devotion of Catherine Douglas, who was renamed Kate Barlas, from
+the circumstances of her chivalry, by which name her descendants are
+known to this day.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="THE_STRANGER" id="THE_STRANGER"></a>THE STRANGER.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE.</i></h3>
+
+<h3 class="author_4">BY H. G. BELL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Hodnet is a village in Shropshire. Like all other villages in
+Shropshire, or anywhere else, it consists principally of one long
+street, with a good number of detached houses scattered here and there
+in its vicinity. The street is on a slight declivity, on the sunny side
+of what in England they call a hill. It contains the shops of three
+butchers, five grocers, two bakers, and one apothecary. On the right
+hand, as you go south, is that very excellent inn, the Blue Boar; and on
+the left, nearly opposite, is the public hall, in which all sorts of
+meetings are held, and which is alternately converted into a
+dancing-school, a theatre, a ball-room, an auction-room, an
+exhibition-room, or any other kind of room that may be wanted. The
+church is a little farther off, and the parsonage is, as usual, a white
+house surrounded with trees, at one end of the village. Hodnet is,
+moreover, the market-town of the shire, and stands in rather a populous
+district; so that, though of small dimensions itself, it is the
+rallying-place, on any extraordinary occasion, of a pretty numerous
+population.</p>
+
+<p>One evening in February, the mail from London stopped at the Blue Boar,
+and a gentleman wrapped in a travelling cloak came out. The guard handed
+him a small portmanteau, and the mail drove on. The stranger entered the
+inn, was shown into a parlour, and desired that the landlord and a
+bottle of wine should be sent to him. The order was speedily obeyed; the
+wine was set upon the table, and Gilbert Cherry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span>ripe himself was the
+person who set it there. Gilbert next proceeded to rouse the slumbering
+fire, remarking, with a sort of comfortable look and tone, that it was a
+cold, raw night. His guest assented with a nod. "You call this village
+Hodnet, do you not?" said he inquiringly. "Yes, sir, this is the town of
+Hodnet" (Mr. Cherryripe did not like the term village), "and a prettier
+little place is not to be found in England." "So I have heard; and as
+you are not upon any of the great roads, I believe you have the
+reputation of being a primitive and unsophisticated race." "Privitive
+and sofiscated, did you say, sir? Why, as to that I cannot exactly
+speak; but, if there is no harm in it, I daresay we are. But you see,
+sir, I am a vintner, and don't trouble my head much about these
+matters." "So much the better," said the stranger, smiling. "You and I
+shall become better friends; I may stay with you for some weeks, perhaps
+months. In the meantime, get me something comfortable for supper, and
+desire your wife to look after my bedroom."</p>
+
+<p>Next day was Sunday. The bells of the village church had just finished
+ringing when the stranger walked up the aisle and entered, as if at
+random, a pew which happened to be vacant. Instantly every eye was
+turned towards him, for a new face was too important an object in Hodnet
+to be left unnoticed. "Who is he?" "When did he come?" "With whom does
+he stay?" "How long will he be here?" "How old may he be?" "Do you think
+he is handsome?" These and a thousand other questions flew about in
+whispers from tongue to tongue, whilst the unconscious object of all
+this interest cast his eyes calmly, and yet penetratingly, over the
+congregation. Nor was it altogether to be wondered at that his
+appearance had caused a sensation among the good people of Hodnet, for
+he was not the kind of person whom one meets with every day. There was
+something both in his face and figure that distinguished him from the
+crowd. You could not look upon him once and then turn away with
+indifference. When the service was over our hero walked out alone, and
+shut himself up for the rest of the day in his parlour at the Blue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span>
+Boar. But speculation was busily at work, and at more than one tea-table
+that evening in Hodnet conjectures were poured out with the tea and
+swallowed with the toast.</p>
+
+<p>A few days elapsed and the stranger was almost forgotten; for there was
+to be a subscription assembly in Hodnet, which engrossed entirely the
+minds of all. It was one of the most important events that had happened
+for at least a century. At length the great, the important night
+arrived. The three professional fiddlers of the village were elevated on
+a table at one end of the hall, and everybody pronounced it the very
+model of an orchestra. The candles were tastefully arranged and
+regularly snuffed. The floor was admirably chalked by a travelling
+sign-painter, engaged for the purpose; and the refreshments in an
+adjoining room, consisting of negus, apples, oranges, cold roast-beef,
+and biscuits, were under the immediate superintendence of our very
+excellent friend, Mr. Gilbert Cherryripe. At nine o'clock, which was
+considered a fashionable hour, the hall was nearly full, and the first
+country dance was commenced by the eldest son and presumptive heir of
+old Squire Thoroughbred, who conducted gracefully through its mazes the
+chosen divinity of his heart, Miss Wilhelmina Bouncer, only daughter of
+Tobias Bouncer, Esq., Justice of Peace in the county of Shropshire.</p>
+
+<p>Enjoyment was at its height, and the three professional fiddlers had put
+a spirit of life into all things, when suddenly one might perceive that
+the merriment was for a moment checked, whilst a more than usual bustle
+pervaded the room. The stranger had entered it; and there was something
+so different in his looks and manner from those of any of the other male
+creatures, that everybody surveyed him with renewed curiosity, which was
+at first slightly tinctured with awe. "Who can he be?" was the question
+that instantaneously started up like a crocus in many a throbbing bosom.
+"He knows nobody, and nobody knows him; surely he will never think of
+asking anybody to dance."</p>
+
+<p>For a long time the stranger stood aloof from the dancers in a corner by
+himself.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span>At length, something like a change seemed to come over the spirit of his
+dreams. His eye fell on Emily Sommers, and appeared to rest where it
+fell with no small degree of pleasure. No wonder. Emily was not what is
+generally styled beautiful; but there was a sweetness, a modesty, a
+gentleness about her, that charmed the more the longer it was observed.
+She was the only child of a widowed mother. Her father had died many a
+year ago in battle; and the pension of an officer's widow was all the
+fortune he had left them. But nature had bestowed riches of a more
+valuable kind than those which fortune had denied. I wish I could
+describe Emily Sommers; but I shall not attempt it. She was one of those
+whose virtues are hid from the blaze of the world, only to be the more
+appreciated by those who can understand them.</p>
+
+<p>It was to Emily Sommers that the stranger first spoke. He walked right
+across the room and asked her to dance with him. Emily had never seen
+him before; but concluding that he had come there with some of her
+friends, and little acquainted with the rules of etiquette, she
+immediately, with a frank artlessness, smiled an acceptance of his
+request.</p>
+
+<p>It was the custom in Hodnet for the gentlemen to employ the morning of
+the succeeding day in paying their respects to the ladies with whom they
+had danced on the previous evening. Requesting permission to wait upon
+his partner and her mother next day, it was without much difficulty
+obtained. This was surely very imprudent in Mrs. Sommers, and everybody
+said it was very imprudent. "What! admit as a visitor in her family a
+person whom she had never seen in her life before, and who, for anything
+she knew, might be a swindler or a Jew! There was never anything so
+preposterous&mdash;a woman, too, of Mrs. Sommers's judgment and propriety! It
+was very&mdash;very strange." But whether it was very strange or not, the
+fact is that the stranger soon spent most of his time at Violet Cottage;
+and what is perhaps no less wonderful, notwithstanding his apparent
+intimacy, he remained nearly as much a stranger to its inmates as ever.
+His name, they had ascertained, was Burleigh&mdash;Frederick Burleigh; that
+he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> was probably upwards of eight-and-twenty, and that, if he had ever
+belonged to any profession, it must have been that of arms. But farther
+they knew not. Mrs. Sommers, however, who to a well-cultivated mind
+added a considerable experience of the world, did not take long to
+discover that their new friend was, in every sense of the word, a man
+whose habits and manners entitled him to the name and rank of a
+gentleman; and she thought, too, that she saw in him, after a short
+intercourse, many of those nobler qualities which raise the individual
+to a high and well-merited rank among his species. As for Emily, she
+loved his society she scarcely knew why; yet, when she endeavoured to
+discover the cause, she found it no difficult matter to convince herself
+that there was something about him so infinitely superior to all the men
+she had ever seen that she was only obeying the dictates of reason in
+admiring and esteeming him.</p>
+
+<p>Her admiration and esteem continued to increase in proportion as she
+became better acquainted with him, and the sentiments seemed to be
+mutual. He now spent his time almost continually in her society, and it
+never hung heavy on their hands. The stranger was fond of music, and
+Emily, besides being mistress of her instrument, possessed naturally a
+fine voice. Neither did she sing and play unrewarded; Burleigh taught
+her the most enchanting of all modern languages&mdash;the language of
+Petrarch and Tasso; and being well versed in the use of the pencil,
+showed her how to give to her landscapes a richer finish and a bolder
+effect. Then they read together; and as they looked with a smile into
+each other's countenances, the fascinating pages of fiction seemed to
+acquire a tenfold interest. These were evenings of calm but deep
+happiness&mdash;long, long to be remembered.</p>
+
+<p>Spring flew rapidly on. March, with her winds and her clouds, passed
+away; April, with her showers and her sunshine, lingered no longer; and
+May came smiling up the blue sky, scattering her roses over the green
+surface of creation. The stranger entered one evening, before sunset,
+the little garden that surrounded Violet Cottage. Emily saw him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span> from
+the window and came out to meet him. She held in her hand an open
+letter. "It is from my cousin Henry," said she. "His regiment has
+returned from France, and he is to be with us to-morrow or next day. We
+shall be so glad to see him! You have often heard us talk of Henry?&mdash;he
+and I were playmates when we were children; and though it is a long time
+since we parted, I am sure I should know him again among a hundred."
+"Indeed!" said the stranger, almost starting; "you must have loved him
+very much, and very constantly too." "Oh, yes! I loved him as a brother.
+I am sure you will love him too," Emily added. "Everybody whom you love,
+and who loves you, I also must love, Miss Sommers. But your cousin I
+shall not at present see. I must leave Hodnet to-morrow." "To-morrow!
+Leave Hodnet to-morrow!" Emily grew very pale, and leaned for support
+upon a sun-dial, near which they were standing. "Can it be possible,
+Miss Sommers&mdash;Emily&mdash;that it is for me you are thus grieved?" "It is so
+sudden," said Emily, "so unexpected; are you never to return again&mdash;are
+we never to see you more?" "Do you wish me to return, do you wish to see
+me again, Emily?" he asked. "Oh! how can you ask it?" "Emily, I have
+been known to you under a cloud of mystery, a solitary being, without a
+friend or acquaintance in the world, an outcast apparently from
+society&mdash;either sinned against or sinning&mdash;without fortune, without
+pretensions; and with all these disadvantages to contend with, how can I
+suppose that I am indebted to anything but your pity for the kindness
+which you have shown to me?" "Pity! pity you! Oh, do not wrong yourself
+thus. No! though you were a thousand times less worthy than I know you
+are, I should not pity, I should&mdash;&mdash;" She stopped confused, a deep blush
+spread over her face, she burst into tears, and would have sunk to the
+ground had not her lover caught her in his arms. "Think of me thus," he
+whispered, "till we meet again, and we may both be happy." "Oh! I will
+think of you thus for ever!" They had reached the door of the cottage.
+"God bless you, Emily," said the stranger; "I dare not see Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span>
+Sommers; tell her of my departure, but tell her that ere autumn has
+faded into winter I shall again be here. Farewell, dearest, farewell."
+She felt upon her cheek a hot and hurried kiss; and when she ventured to
+look round he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Henry arrived next day, but there was a gloom upon the spirits of both
+mother and daughter, which it took some time to dispel. Mrs. Sommers
+felt for Emily more than for herself. She now perceived that her child's
+future happiness depended more upon the honour of the stranger than she
+had hitherto been aware, and she trembled to think of the probability
+that in the busy world he might soon forget the very existence of such a
+place as Hodnet, or any of its inhabitants. Emily entertained better
+hopes, but they were the result of the sanguine and unsuspicious
+temperament of youth. Her cousin, meanwhile, exerted himself to the
+utmost to render himself agreeable. He was a young, frank, handsome
+soldier, who had leapt into the very middle of many a lady's heart&mdash;red
+coat, sword, epaulette-belt, cocked hat, feathers, and all. But he was
+not destined to leap into Emily's. She had enclosed it within too strong
+a line of circumvallation. After a three months' siege, it was
+impregnable. So Henry, who really loved his cousin, thinking it folly to
+endanger his peace and waste his time any longer, called for his horse
+one morning, shook Emily warmly by the hand, mounted, "and rode away."</p>
+
+<p>Autumn came; the leaves grew red, brown, yellow, and purple; then
+dropped from the high branches, and lay rustling in heaps upon the path
+below. The last roses withered. The last lingering wain conveyed from
+the fields their golden treasure. The days were bright, clear, calm, and
+chill; the nights were full of stars and dew, and the dew, ere morning,
+was changed into silver hoar-frost. The robin hopped across the garden
+walks, and candles were set upon the table before the tea-urn. But the
+stranger came not. Darker days and longer nights succeeded. Winter burst
+upon the earth. But still the stranger came not. Then the lustre of
+Emily's eye grew dim; but yet she smiled, and looked as if she would
+have made herself believe that there was hope.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span>And so there was; for the mail once more stopped at the Blue Boar; a
+gentleman wrapped in a travelling cloak once more came out of it; and
+Mr. Gilbert Cherryripe once more poked the fire for him in his best
+parlour. Burleigh had returned.</p>
+
+<p>I shall not describe their meeting nor inquire whether Emily's eye was
+long without its lustre. But there was still another trial to be made.
+Would she marry him? "My family," said he, "is respectable, and as it is
+not wealth we seek, I have an independence, at least equal, I should
+hope, to our wishes; but anything else which you may think mysterious
+about me I cannot unravel until you are indissolubly mine." It was a
+point of no slight difficulty; Emily entrusted its decision entirely to
+her mother. Her mother saw that the stranger was inflexible in his
+purpose, and she saw also that her child's happiness was inextricably
+linked with him. What could she do? It had been better perhaps they had
+never known him; but knowing him, and thinking of him as they did, there
+was but one alternative&mdash;the risk must be run.</p>
+
+<p>It was run. They were married in Hodnet; and immediately after the
+ceremony they stepped into a carriage and drove away, nobody knew
+whither. It is enough for us to mention that towards twilight they came
+in sight of a magnificent Gothic mansion, situated in the midst of
+extensive and noble parks. Emily expressed her admiration of its
+appearance; and her young husband, gazing on her with impassioned
+delight, exclaimed, "Emily, it is yours! My mind was imbued with
+erroneous impressions of women; I had been courted and deceived by them.
+I believed that their affections were to be won only by flattering their
+vanity or dazzling their ambition. I was resolved that unless I were
+loved for myself I would never be loved at all. I travelled through the
+country <i>incognito</i>; I came to Hodnet and saw you. I have tried you in
+every way, and found you true. It was I, and not my fortune, that you
+married; but both are yours. This is Burleigh House; your husband is
+Frederick Augustus Burleigh, Earl of Exeter, and you, my Emily, are his
+countess!"</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="title_2"><a  name="LOVE_WILL_FIND_A_WAY" id="LOVE_WILL_FIND_A_WAY"></a>LOVE WILL FIND A WAY.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="subtitle"><i>THE STORY OF WINNIFRED COUNTESS OF NITHSDALE.</i></h3>
+
+
+<p>Among the noblemen who, with many misgivings as to the wisdom of the
+attempt, yet felt it their duty to take part in the rising on behalf of
+the young Pretender, which took place in the year 1745, Lord Nithsdale
+was unhappily numbered.</p>
+
+<p>It is unnecessary to detail here the progress of this ill-advised
+enterprise, which ended in general defeat and the capture of those
+principally concerned. Lord Derwentwater, Lord Nithsdale, and other
+noblemen, were immediately brought to trial, and condemned, without hope
+of mercy, to suffer the death of traitors.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Nithsdale, when the first terrible news of her husband's
+apprehension reached her, was at Terreagles, their seat, near Traquhair
+in Peebleshire, and hearing that he much desired the consolation of
+seeing her, she resolved at once to set out for London. It was winter,
+and at that period the roads during this season were often almost
+impassable. She succeeded, however, through great difficulties, in
+reaching Newcastle, and from thence went to York by the stage; but there
+the increased severity of the weather and the depth of the snow would
+not admit of the stage proceeding farther&mdash;even the mail could not be
+forwarded. But Lady Nithsdale was on an errand from which no risks might
+deter her. She therefore pursued her way, though the snow was generally
+above the horse's girths, and, in the end, reached London in safety,
+and, supported both in health and spirits by firm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> resolution, she
+sustained no ill consequences from her perilous journey.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived there, however, she learnt, to her dismay, that she was not to
+be allowed to see her husband, unless she would consent to be imprisoned
+with him in the Tower&mdash;a plan she could not consent to, as it would
+prevent her acting on his behalf by soliciting the assistance and
+intercession of friends, and, above all, incapacitate her from carrying
+out the plan of escape she had already formed, should the worst she
+apprehended come true. In spite of the refusal of the Government,
+however, by bribing the guard she obtained frequent interviews with her
+husband up to the day on which the prisoners were condemned; after
+which, for the last week, their families were allowed free admittance to
+take a last leave of them.</p>
+
+<p>From the first moment of her arrival in London she laboured in her
+husband's cause, making application to all persons in authority,
+wherever there was the most distant chance of assistance; but from those
+in power she only received assurances that her cause was hopeless, and
+that for certain reasons her husband was especially reserved for
+vengeance.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Nithsdale, for her sake more than his own, was anxious that a
+petition should be presented to the king in his behalf; trusting, by
+this means, to excite for her his sympathy and indulgence. It was well
+known that the king was especially incensed against Lord Nithsdale, so
+that he is said to have forbidden that any petition should be presented
+for him, or personal address made to him; but the countess, in obedience
+to her lord's wish, resolved to make the attempt, and accordingly
+repaired to court. In the narrative she wrote to her sister of her
+husband's escape, she has given the following account of the
+interview&mdash;very little creditable to the feelings of George I., either
+as a king or a gentleman:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"So the first day that I heard the king was to go to the drawing-room, I
+dressed myself in black, as if I had been in mourning, and sent for Mrs.
+Morgan (the same who accom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span>panied me to the Tower); because, as I did
+not know his Majesty personally, I might have mistaken some other person
+for him. She stayed by me, and told me when he was coming. I had another
+lady with me (Lady Nairn), and we remained in a room between the king's
+apartments and the drawing-room, so that he was obliged to go through
+it; and as there were three windows in it, we sat in the middle one,
+that I might have time enough to meet him before he could pass. I threw
+myself at his feet, and told him, in French, that I was the unfortunate
+Countess of Nithsdale, that he might not pretend to be ignorant of my
+person. But, perceiving that he wanted to go off without receiving my
+petition, I caught hold of the skirt of his coat, that he might stop and
+hear me. He endeavoured to escape out of my hands; but I kept such
+strong hold, that he dragged me on my knees from the middle of the room
+to the very door of the drawing-room. At last one of the blue ribbons
+who attended his Majesty took me round the waist, while another wrested
+the coat out of my hands. The petition, which I had endeavoured to
+thrust into his pocket, fell down in the scuffle, and I almost fainted
+away through grief and disappointment. One of the gentlemen in waiting
+picked up the petition; and as I knew that it ought to have been given
+to the lord of the bedchamber, who was then in waiting, I wrote to him,
+and entreated him to do me the favour to read the petition which I had
+had the honour to present to his Majesty. Fortunately for me it happened
+to be my Lord Dorset, with whom Mrs. Morgan was very intimate.
+Accordingly she went into the drawing-room and delivered him the letter,
+which he received very graciously. He could not read it then, as he was
+at cards with the Prince; but as soon as ever the game was over he read
+it, and behaved (as I afterwards learned) with the warmest zeal for my
+interest, and was seconded by the Duke of Montrose, who had seen me in
+the ante-chamber and wanted to speak to me. But I made him a sign not to
+come near me, lest his acquaintance might thwart my designs. They read
+over the petition several times, but without any success; but it became
+the topic of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> conversation the rest of the evening, and the
+harshness with which I had been treated soon spread abroad&mdash;not much to
+the honour of the king."</p>
+
+<p>This painful scene happened on Monday, February 13th, and seems to have
+produced no result, unless it may be supposed to have hastened the fate
+of the prisoners; for, on the following Friday, it was decided in
+council that the sentence against them should be carried into effect.</p>
+
+<p>In the meanwhile Lady Derwentwater and other ladies of high rank were
+strenuous in their efforts to avert the execution of the sentence. They
+succeeded in obtaining an interview with the king, though without any
+favourable issue. They also attended at both Houses of Parliament to
+present petitions to the members as they went in. These exertions had a
+decided influence on the feelings of both Houses. In the Commons a
+motion to petition the king in favour of the delinquents was lost by
+only seven votes, and among the Lords a still stronger personal feeling
+and interest was excited; but all proved unavailing, and Lady Nithsdale,
+after joining with the other ladies in this ineffectual attendance, at
+length found that all her hope and dependence must rest on her
+long-formed scheme of bringing about her husband's escape. She had less
+than twenty-four hours for arranging it in all its details, and for
+persuading the accomplices who would be necessary to her to enter into
+so hazardous a project. In these she seems to have been peculiarly
+fortunate; but the history of this remarkable escape can only be given
+in her own words, taken from the interesting and spirited narrative she
+wrote of it:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"As the motion had passed generally (that the petitions should be read
+in the Lords, which had only been carried after a warm debate) I thought
+I would draw some advantage in favour of my design. Accordingly I
+immediately left the House of Lords and hastened to the Tower; where,
+affecting an air of joy and satisfaction, I told all the guards I passed
+that I came to bring joyful tidings to the prisoner. I desired them to
+lay aside their fears, for the petition had passed the House<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span> in their
+favour. I then gave them some money to drink to the lords and his
+Majesty, though it was but trifling; for I thought that if I were too
+liberal on the occasion they might suspect my designs, and that giving
+them something would gain their good humour and services for the next
+day, which was the eve of the execution. The next morning I could not go
+to the Tower, having so many things on my hands to put in readiness; but
+in the evening, when all was ready, I sent for Mrs. Mills, with whom I
+lodged, and acquainted her with my design of attempting my lord's
+escape, as there was no prospect of his being pardoned, and this was the
+last night before the execution. I told her that I had everything in
+readiness, and that I trusted she would not refuse to accompany me, that
+my lord might pass for her. I pressed her to come immediately, as we had
+no time to lose. At the same time I sent for Mrs. Morgan, then usually
+known by the name of Hilton, to whose acquaintance my dear Evans (her
+maid) had introduced me&mdash;which I looked upon as a very singular
+happiness. I immediately communicated my resolution to her. She was of a
+very tall and slender make; so I begged her to put under her own
+riding-hood one that I had prepared for Mrs. Mills, as she was to lend
+hers to my lord, that in coming out he might be taken for her. Mrs.
+Mills was not only of the same height, but nearly the same size as my
+lord. When we were in the coach I never ceased talking, that they might
+have no leisure to reflect. Their surprise and astonishment when I first
+opened my design to them had made them consent, without ever thinking of
+the consequences.</p>
+
+<p>"On our arrival at the Tower, the first I introduced was Mrs. Morgan;
+for I was only allowed to take in one at a time. She brought in the
+clothes that were to serve Mrs. Mills when she left her own behind her.
+When Mrs. Morgan had taken off what she had brought for my purpose, I
+conducted her back to the staircase; and, in going, I begged her to send
+me in my maid to dress me; that I was afraid of being too late to
+present my last petition that night if she did not come immediately. I
+despatched her safe, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span> went partly downstairs to meet Mrs. Mills, who
+had the precaution to hold her handkerchief to her face&mdash;as was very
+natural for a woman to do when she was going to bid her last farewell to
+a friend on the eve of his execution. I had, indeed, desired her to do
+it, that my lord might go out in the same manner. Her eyebrows were
+rather inclined to be sandy, and my lord's were dark and very thick;
+however, I had prepared some paint of the colour of hers to disguise his
+with. I also bought an artificial head-dress of the same coloured hair
+as hers; and I painted his face with white and his cheeks with rouge, to
+hide his long beard, which he had not had time to shave. All this
+provision I had before left in the Tower.</p>
+
+<p>"The poor guards, whom my liberality the day before had endeared me to,
+let me go quietly with my company, and were not so strictly on the watch
+as they usually had been; and the more so as they were persuaded from
+what I had told them the day before that the prisoners would obtain
+their pardon. I made Mrs. Mills take off her own hood and put on that
+which I had brought her. I then took her by the hand and led her out of
+my lord's chamber; and in passing through the next room, in which there
+were several people, with all the concern imaginable I said, 'My dear
+Mrs. Catherine, go in all haste and send me my waiting-maid; she
+certainly cannot reflect how late it is; she forgets that I am to
+present a petition to-night, and if I let slip this opportunity I am
+undone; for to-morrow will be too late. Hasten her as much as possible;
+for I shall be on thorns till she comes.' Everybody in the room, who
+were chiefly the guards' wives and daughters, seemed to compassionate me
+exceedingly; and the sentinel officiously opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>"When I had seen her out I returned back to my lord and finished
+dressing him. I had taken care that Mrs. Mills did not go out crying, as
+she came in, that my lord might the better pass for the lady who came in
+crying and afflicted; and the more so because he had the same dress she
+wore. When I had almost finished dressing my lord in all my petticoats<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span>
+excepting one, I perceived that it was growing dark, and was afraid that
+the light of the candles might betray us, so I resolved to set off. I
+went out, leading him by the hand; and he held his handkerchief to his
+eyes. I spoke to him in the most piteous and afflicted tone of voice,
+bewailing bitterly the negligence of Evans, who had ruined me by her
+delay. Then said I, 'My dear Mrs. Betty, for the love of God run quickly
+and bring her with you. You know my lodging, and, if ever you made
+despatch in your life, do it at present. I am distracted with this
+disappointment.' The guards opened the doors, and I went downstairs with
+him, still conjuring to make all possible despatch. As soon as he had
+cleared the door, I made him walk before me, for fear the sentinel
+should take notice of his walk; but I still continued to press him to
+make all the despatch he possibly could. At the bottom of the stairs I
+met my dear Evans, into whose hands I confided him.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Thus one more person left Lord Nithsdale's prison than had
+entered it. Three had gone in, and four came out. But so long as women
+only passed, and these two at a time, the guards probably were not
+particularly watchful. This inevitable difficulty in the plan of the
+escape makes Lady Nithsdale's admirable self-possession of manner in
+conducting it the more conspicuous. Any failure on her part would have
+awakened the suspicions of the bystanders.</p></div>
+
+<p>"I had before engaged Mr. Mills to be in readiness before the Tower to
+conduct him to some place of safety, in case he succeeded. He looked
+upon the affair as so very improbable to succeed, that his astonishment,
+when he saw us, threw him into such consternation that he was almost out
+of himself; which Evans perceiving, with the greatest presence of mind,
+without telling him (Lord Nithsdale) anything, lest he should mistrust
+them, conducted him to some of her own friends on whom she could rely,
+and so secured him; without which we should have been undone. When she
+had conducted him, and left him with them, she returned to find Mr.
+Mills, who by this time had recovered himself from his astonishment.
+They went home together, and having found a place of security, they
+conducted him to it.</p>
+
+<p>"In the meanwhile, as I had pretended to have sent the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> young lady on a
+message, I was obliged to return upstairs and go back to my lord's room
+in the same feigned anxiety of being too late; so that everybody seemed
+sincerely to sympathise with my distress. When I was in the room, I
+talked to him as if he had been really present; and answered my own
+questions in my lord's voice as nearly as I could imitate it. I walked
+up and down as if we were conversing together, till I thought they had
+time enough thoroughly to clear themselves of the guards. I then thought
+proper to make off also. I opened the door, and stood half in it, that
+those in the outward chamber might hear what I said; but held it so
+close that they could not look in. I bid my lord a formal farewell for
+that night; and added, that something more than usual must have happened
+to make Evans negligent on this important occasion, who had always been
+so punctual in the smallest trifle; that I saw no other remedy than to
+go in person; that if the Tower were still open when I finished my
+business I would return that night; but that he might be assured that I
+would be with him as early in the morning as I could gain admittance to
+the Tower; and I flattered myself I should bring favourable news. Then,
+before I shut the door, I pulled the string through the latch, so that
+it could only be opened on the inside. I then shut it with some degree
+of force, that I might be sure of its being well shut. I said to the
+servant as I passed by, who was ignorant of the whole transaction, that
+he need not carry candles in to his master till my lord sent for him, as
+he desired to finish some prayers first. I went downstairs and called a
+coach, as there were several on the stand. I drove home to my lodgings,
+where poor Mr. Mackenzie had been waiting to carry the petition, in case
+my attempt failed. I told him there was no need of any petition, as my
+lord was safe out of the Tower and out of the hands of his enemies, but
+that I did not know where he was.</p>
+
+<p>"I then desired one of the servants to call a chair, and I went to the
+Duchess of Montrose, who had always borne a part in my distresses. She
+came to me; and as my heart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span> was in an ecstasy of joy, I expressed it in
+my countenance as she entered the room. I ran up to her in the transport
+of my joy. She appeared to be exceedingly shocked and frighted, and has
+since confessed to me that she apprehended my trouble had thrown me out
+of myself till I communicated my happiness to her. She then advised me
+to retire to some place of security, for that the king was highly
+displeased, and even enraged, at the petition I had presented to him,
+and had complained of it severely, and then said she would go to court
+and see how the news of my lord's escape was received. When the news was
+brought to the king, he flew into an excess of passion, and said he was
+betrayed; for it could not have been done without some confederacy. He
+instantly despatched two persons to the Tower to see that the other
+prisoners were secure, lest they should follow the example. Some threw
+the blame upon one, some upon another. The duchess was the only one at
+court who knew it.</p>
+
+<p>"When I left the duchess, I went to a house which Evans had found out
+for me, and where she promised to acquaint me where my lord was. She got
+thither some few minutes after me, and took me to the house of a poor
+woman, directly opposite to the guard-house, where my lord was. She had
+but one small room, up one pair of stairs, and a very small bed in it.
+We threw ourselves upon the bed, that we might not be heard walking up
+and down. She left us a bottle of wine and some bread, and Mrs. Mills
+brought us some more in her pocket next day. We subsisted on this
+provision from Thursday till Saturday night, when Mrs. Mills came and
+conducted my lord to the Venetian ambassador's. We did not communicate
+the affair to his excellency; but one of his servants concealed him in
+his own room till Wednesday, on which day the ambassador's coach-and-six
+was to go down to Dover to meet his brother. My lord put on a livery,
+and went down in the retinue, without the least suspicion, to Dover,
+where M. Michel (the ambassador's servant) hired a small vessel and
+immediately set sail for Calais. The passage was so remarkably short
+that the captain threw out this reflection, that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span> wind could not
+have served better if his passengers had been flying for their lives,
+little thinking it to be really the case.</p>
+
+<p>"For my part," continues Lady Nithsdale, "I absconded to the house of a
+very honest man in Drury Lane, where I remained till I was assured of my
+lord's safe arrival on the Continent. I then wrote to the Duchess of
+Buccleugh and entreated her to procure leave for me to go with safety
+about my business. So far from granting my request, they were resolved
+to secure me, if possible. After several debates it was decided that if
+I remained concealed no further search should be made, but that if I
+appeared either in England or Scotland I should be secured."</p>
+
+<p>On first hearing of her husband's apprehension, she had thought it
+prudent to conceal many important family papers and other valuables, and
+having no person at hand with whom they could be safely entrusted, had
+hid them underground, in a place known only to the gardener, in whom she
+could entirely confide. This had proved a happy precaution, for, after
+her departure, the house had been searched, and, as she expressed it,
+"God only knows what might have transpired from those papers." In
+addition to the danger of their being discovered, there was the imminent
+risk of their being destroyed by damp, so that no time must be lost in
+regaining them before too late. She therefore determined on another
+journey to the north, and, for greater secrecy, on horseback, though
+this mode of travelling, which was new to her, was extremely fatiguing.
+She, however, with her maid, Mrs. Evans, and a servant that could be
+depended on, set out from London, and reached Traquhair in safety and
+without any one being aware of her intentions. Here she ventured to rest
+two days, in the society of her sister-in-law and Lord Traquhair,
+feeling security in the conviction that, as the lord-lieutenant of the
+county was an old friend of her husband's, he would not allow any search
+to be made after her without first giving her warning to abscond. From
+thence she proceeded to Terreagles, whither it was supposed she came
+with the permission of Government; and to keep up that opinion, she
+invited her neighbours to visit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span> her. That same night she dug up the
+papers from their hiding-place, where happily they had sustained no
+injury, and sent them at once, by safe hands, to Traquhair. This was
+accomplished just in time, for the magistrates of Dumfries began to
+entertain suspicions of her right to be there, and desired to see her
+leave from Government. On hearing this, "I expressed," she says, "my
+surprise that they had been so backward in paying their respects; 'but,'
+said I, 'better late than never: be sure to tell them that they shall be
+welcome whenever they choose to come.' This was after dinner; but I lost
+no time to put everything in readiness, but with all possible secrecy;
+and the next morning, before daybreak, I set off again for London, with
+the same attendants, and, as before, I put up at the smallest inns, and
+arrived safe once more."</p>
+
+<p>George I. could not forgive Lady Nithsdale for the heroic part she had
+acted: he refused, in her case, the allowance or dower which was granted
+to the wives of the other lords. "A lady informed me," she says, "that
+the king was extremely incensed at the news; that he had issued orders
+to have me arrested, adding that I did whatever I pleased, despite of
+all his designs, and that I had given him more trouble than any woman in
+all Europe. For which reason I kept myself as closely concealed as
+possible, till the heat of these rumours had abated. In the meanwhile, I
+took the opinion of a very famous lawyer, who was a man of the strictest
+probity: he advised me to go off as soon as they had ceased searching
+for me. I followed his advice, and, in about a fortnight after, I
+escaped without any accident whatever."</p>
+
+<p>She met her husband and children at Paris, whither they had come from
+Bruges to meet her. They soon afterwards joined the Pretender's court at
+Avignon; but, finding the mode of life there little to their taste,
+shortly after returned to Italy, where they lived in great privacy.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Nithsdale lived, after his escape, nearly thirty years, and died at
+Rome in 1744. His wife survived him five years: she had the comfort of
+having provided a competency for her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span> son by her hazardous journey to
+Terreagles, though his title and principal estates had been confiscated
+by his father's attainder. He married Lady Catherine Stewart, daughter
+of the Earl and Countess of Traquhair. Her daughter, the Lady Anne
+Maxwell, became the wife of Lord Bellew.</p>
+
+<hr class="chapter_rule" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><a name="Transcribers_Note" id="Transcribers_Note"></a>[Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the
+original print edition have been corrected. No other alterations have
+been made to the original text.</p>
+
+<p>In "Margot: The Martyr", "the burning larva" has been changed to "the
+burning lava".</p>
+
+<p>In "Nadine: The Princess", a colon was added following "The silence was
+broken by Maura, saying"; a quotation mark was added following "the
+subject is never mentioned to her"; and a quotation mark has been
+deleted preceding "O&mdash;&mdash; was a fearful place".</p>
+
+<p>In "My Year at School", a quotation mark was added before "The history
+prize has been awarded".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Silver Star", "her exhibiton work" has been changed to "her
+exhibition work".</p>
+
+<p>In "Uncle Tone", a comma has been added after "he shut himself off from
+all society"; and "discourtsey" has been changed to "discourtesy".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Missing Letter", a quotation mark was added after "he shall have
+it now."</p>
+
+<p>In "The Magic Carpet", a quotation mark has been added before "The
+book?" and before "The Magic Cabinet!"; and "half-cirle" has been
+changed to "half-circle".</p>
+
+<p>In "Only Tim", "A little latter" has been changed to "A little later";
+and "pepples" has been changed to "pebbles"./p>
+
+<p>In "The Colonel's Boy", "mischevously" has been changed to
+"mischievously".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Trevern Treasure", "no opportunity for Sybil Trevern ro return"
+has been changed to "no opportunity for Sybil Trevern to return";
+"frequently rasults in misadventure" has been changed to "frequently
+results in misadventure"; and "the disaster of Sherifmuir" has been
+changed to "the disaster of Sherrifmuir".</p>
+
+<p>In "Dora", "Miss Dora "ll be marryin'" has been changed to "Miss Dora
+'ll be marryin'"; and "'e ses. solemn" has been changed to "'e ses
+solemn".</p>
+
+<p>In "Little Peace", "Beneath this ortrait" has been changed to "Beneath
+this portrait"; "Blessed are the pacemakers" has been changed to
+"Blessed are the peacemakers"; and a quotation mark has been added
+before "Because old Gaffer Cressidge".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Story of Wassili and Daria", "dressed in their most brillant
+manner" has been changed to "dressed in their most brilliant manner".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Pedlar's Pack", a quotation mark has been removed in front of
+"If I didn't think".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Unbidden Guest", quotation marks have been added in front of
+"Dad believes what he's agoing to tell you" and in front of "I was
+a-looking at mother"; "'Nothin', says I" has been changed to "'Nothin','
+says I"; and "'Nothin,' says she" has been changed to "'Nothin',' says
+she".</p>
+
+<p>In "A Strange Visitor", a quotation mark has been added in front of "I must
+apologise for intruding upon you".</p>
+
+<p>In "Billjim", "as similiar as possible" has been changed to "as similar
+as possible"; and "See bathed his temples" has been changed to "She
+bathed his temples".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Tiny Folk of Langaffer", a quotation mark has been added in
+front of "'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' That means something."</p>
+
+<p>In "The Kingfisher", "their voices lease my ears" has been changed to
+"their voices please my ears".</p>
+
+<p>In "Caspar the Cobbler", "masonary and stone-carving" has been changed
+to "masonry and stone-carving"; "his workship in the old garret" has
+been changed to "his workshop in the old garret"; and a quotation mark
+has been added after "exhibits his good breeding."</p>
+
+<p>In "The Story of Grizel Cochrane", "In futherance of this plan" has been
+changed to "In furtherance of this plan".</p>
+
+<p>In "The Stranger", a quotation mark has been added before "Can it be
+possible".]</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifty-Two Stories For Girls, by Various
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifty-Two Stories For Girls, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Fifty-Two Stories For Girls
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Alfred H. Miles
+
+Release Date: July 2, 2008 [EBook #25948]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY-TWO STORIES FOR GIRLS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE KING'S TRAGEDY. [See p. 434. ]
+
+
+
+
+FIFTY-TWO STORIES FOR GIRLS
+
+Edited by ALFRED H. MILES
+
+[Illustration: Inter Folia Fructus]
+
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+D. APPLETON & CO.
+1912
+
+_Published September, 1905_
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+TABLE OF AUTHORS.
+
+EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN
+SARAH DOUDNEY
+ARMAND CAUMONT
+ALICE F. JACKSON
+NELLIE HOLDERNESS
+MARGARET WATSON
+JENNIE CHAPPELL
+MARION DICKEN
+LUCY HARDY
+MARIE DELBRASSINE
+HELEN BOURCHIER
+NORA RYEMAN
+KATE GODKIN
+LUCIE E. JACKSON
+MAUD HEIGHINGTON
+DOROTHY PINHO
+GORDON STABLES, M.D., R.N.
+ROBERT OVERTON
+CLUCAS JOUGHIN
+ALBERT E. HOOPER
+CHARLES E. PEARCE
+S. LE SOTGILLE
+H. G. BELL
+THOMAS ARCHER
+ALFRED G. SAYERS
+ROBERT GUILLEMARD
+F. B. FORESTER
+ALFRED H. MILES
+
+AND OTHER WRITERS.
+
+
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+SCHOOL AND HOME.
+
+
+SUBJECT                              AUTHOR                        PAGE
+
+GLORIA DENE'S SCHOOLFELLOWS:        _Nora Ryeman_
+  I. NARDA: THE NIGHTINGALE           "                             11
+  II. ESTELLA: THE HEIRESS            "                             16
+  III. MAURA: THE MUNIFICENT          "                             22
+  IV. MARGOT: THE MARTYR              "                             29
+  V.  IRENE: THE SNOW FLOWER          "                             35
+  VI. NADINE: THE PRINCESS            "                             39
+
+MY YEAR AT SCHOOL                   _Margaret Watson_               48
+
+THE SILVER STAR                     _Nellie Holderness_             57
+
+UNCLE TONE                          _Kate Godkin_                   67
+
+A NIGHT ON THE ROAD                 _Margaret Watson_               77
+
+THE MISSING LETTER                  _Jennie Chappell_               83
+
+"THE COLONEL"                       _Marion Dicken_                 93
+
+NETTIE                              _Alfred G. Sayers_              97
+
+THE MAGIC CABINET                   _Albert E. Hooper_             103
+
+
+GIRLHOOD AND YOUTH.
+
+ONLY TIM                            _Sarah Doudney_                121
+
+SMITH'S SISTER                      _Robert Overton_               139
+
+THE COLONEL'S BOY                   _H. Hervey_                    148
+
+'TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH               _Clucas Joughin_               155
+
+ROSE'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT             _Marie E. C. Delbrassine_      164
+
+DOLLY HARDCASTLE'S ROSEBUDS         _Charles E. Pearce_            171
+
+A TALE OF SIMLA                     _Dr. Helen Bourchier_          177
+
+THE TREVERN TREASURE                _Lucy Hardy_                   189
+
+A MEMORABLE DAY                     _Sarah Doudney_                196
+
+DORA                                _Alfred H. Miles_              202
+
+LITTLE PEACE                        _Nora Ryeman_                  211
+
+THE STORY OF WASSILI AND DARIA      _Robert Guillemard_            215
+
+
+PLUCK, PERIL, AND ADVENTURE.
+
+MARJORIE MAY                        _Evelyn Everett-Green_         225
+
+FOURTH COUSINS                      _Gordon Stables, M.D., R.N._   238
+
+THE PEDLAR'S PACK                   _Lucie E. Jackson_             245
+
+THE UNBIDDEN GUEST                  _F. B. Forester_               264
+
+THE WRECK OF THE MAY QUEEN          _Alice F. Jackson_             275
+
+ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC                 "                            285
+
+A STRANGE VISITOR                   _Maud Heighington_             295
+
+THE THIRD PERSON SINGULAR           _Lucy Hardy_                   301
+
+"HOW JACK MINDED THE BABY"          _Dorothy Pinho_                307
+
+MY GRANDMOTHER'S ADVENTURE          _Alfred H. Miles_              310
+
+A TERRIBLE CHRISTMAS EVE            _Lucie E. Jackson_             315
+
+A NIGHT OF HORROR                   _Alfred H. Miles_              326
+
+AUNT GRIEVES' SILVER                _Lucie E. Jackson_             329
+
+BILLJIM                             _S. Le Sotgille_               341
+
+
+IN THE WORLD OF FAERY.
+
+THE LEGENDS OF LANGAFFER            _Armand Caumont_
+  I. THE TINY FOLK OF LANGAFFER       "                            353
+  II. THE KINGFISHER                  "                            364
+  III. CASPAR THE COBBLER             "                            380
+  IV. DAME DOROTHY'S DOG              "                            391
+  V. THE LITTLE LOCKSMITH             "                            397
+
+
+ROMANCE IN HISTORY.
+
+HOW CICELY DANCED BEFORE THE KING   _Thomas Archer_                403
+
+A MOTHER OF QUEENS                  _From "Old Romance"_           410
+
+THE STORY OF GRIZEL COCHRANE        _W. R. C._                     418
+
+A WIFE'S STRATAGEM                  _Lucy Hardy_                   427
+
+THE KING'S TRAGEDY                  _Alfred H. Miles_              434
+
+THE STRANGER                        _H. G. Bell_                   439
+
+LOVE WILL FIND A WAY                _Lady Nithsdale's Records_     447
+
+
+
+
+SCHOOL AND HOME.
+
+
+GLORIA DENE'S SCHOOLFELLOWS.
+
+BY NORA RYEMAN.
+
+
+I.--NARDA: THE NIGHTINGALE.
+
+
+I.
+
+"Here you are, miss," said the red-faced cabby, putting his head in at
+the cab window, "this is Miss Melford's school."
+
+It was a large, many windowed, white house on Hertford Green, in sight
+of the famous spires of Silverbridge, and was for some six months to be
+both home and school to me, Gloria Dene.
+
+I was late in my arrival, and I was tired, for I had come all the way
+from Erlingham in the heart of Norfolk, and moreover, I was hungry, and
+just a little homesick, and already wanted to return to the old
+homestead and to Uncle Gervase and Aunt Ducie, who had taken the place
+of my parents.
+
+The cabman gave a loud rat-a-tat with the lion-headed knocker, and in
+due course a rosy-faced servant maid opened the door and ushered me in.
+
+Then she preceded me through a broad flagged hall, lit by crimson
+lamps. And as I went I heard a sweet and thrilling voice singing,
+
+        "Home, home, sweet, sweet home,
+    Be it ever so humble there's no place like home."
+
+The words naturally appealed to me, and I exclaimed:
+
+"How lovely! Who is singing?" only to be told that it was Mamselle
+Narda, the music mistress.
+
+I thought of the nightingale which sang in our rose bush on summer
+nights at home, and found myself wondering what Mamselle was like.
+
+The next day I saw her--Bernarda Torres; she was a brown beauty, with
+dark rippling hair, soft dark eyes, and a richly soft complexion, which
+put one in mind of a ripe peach on a southern wall.
+
+She was of Spanish extraction, her father (a fruit merchant) hailing
+from Granada, her mother from Seville. Narda's path had been strewn with
+roses, until a bank failure interrupted a life of happiness, and then
+sorrows had come in battalions. Mamselle had really turned her silver
+notes into silver coins for the sake of "Home, Sweet Home."
+
+This love of home it was which united Narda and myself. She told me all
+about the house at home, about her brother, Carlos, and his pictures,
+and _maman_, who made point lace, and Olla Podrida, and little Nita, who
+was _douce et belle_. And I, in my turn, told her of the thatched
+homestead near the Broads, of the bay and mulberry trees, of Aunt
+Ducie's sweet kind face, and Uncle Gervase's early silvered hair.
+
+And she called me "little sister," and promised to spend her next
+vacation where the heron fishes and the robin pipes in fair and fresh
+East Anglia.
+
+But one May morning, when the lilacs in our playground were full of
+sweet-scented, purple plumes, a bolt fell from the blue. A letter came
+to Narda telling her of her mother's failing health, her father's
+apathy, her brother's despair.
+
+"It is enough," said Mamselle, "I see my duty! An impresario once told
+me that my destiny was to sing in public. I will do it for 'Home, Sweet
+Home,' I will be La Narda the singer, instead of Miss Melford's
+Mamselle. God who helps the blind bird build its nest will help me to
+save mine."
+
+
+II.
+
+There had been the first fall of the snow, and "ye Antiente Citie"
+looked like some town in dreamland, or in fairyland, as Miss Melford's
+boarders (myself amongst the number) went through its streets and wynds
+to the ballad concert (in aid of Crumblebolme's Charity), at which
+Mamselle, then La Narda, the _cantatrice_, was announced to sing. We
+were naturally much excited; it seemed, as Ivy Davis remarked, almost as
+though we were all going to sing in public.
+
+We had front seats, quite near the tapestried platform from whence we
+took note of the audience.
+
+"Look, look!" whispered Milly Reed eagerly. "The Countess of Jesmond,
+and the house-party at Coss have come to hear _our_ Mamselle. That dark,
+handsome man next the countess is Count Mirloff, the Russian poet. Just
+think I----"
+
+What more Milly would have said I really cannot say, for just then there
+was a soft clapping of hands, and La Narda came down the crimson steps
+of the Justice Room, and advanced to the footlights.
+
+"She's like a fairy queen! She's just too lovely!" said the
+irrepressible Ivy. And though Miss Melford shook her head, I am sure she
+also was of the same opinion, and was proud of my dear brown
+nightingale.
+
+The _petite_ figure was robed in white silk, trimmed with frosted leaves
+and pink roses, and wore a garland of the same on her dark bright head.
+
+    "Tell me, thou bonnie bird,
+    When shall I marry me?
+    When three braw gentlemen
+    Churchward shall carry ye,"
+
+sang the sweet full voice, and we listened entranced. The next song was
+"Robin Adair."
+
+Then came an encore, and as Narda acknowledged it, an accident occurred
+which (as the newspapers say) might have had a fatal termination.
+
+A flounce of the singer's dress touched the footlights, and the flame
+began to creep upwards like a snake of fire.
+
+Narda glanced downward, drew back, and was about to try to crush it out
+with her hands, when in less time than it takes to tell it, the Russian
+gentleman sprang forward, wrapped his fur-lined coat about her, and
+extinguished the flame.
+
+The poet had saved the nightingale, and Miss Melford's romantic girls
+unanimously resolved "that he ought to marry her."
+
+
+III.
+
+And he did shortly after. Our some time music-teacher who was good
+enough for any position became a _grande dame_ with a mansion in St.
+Petersburg, and a country house in Livania. She went to balls at the
+Winter Palace, and was present at all the court ceremonies.
+
+Yet was she still our Narda, she sent us girls presents of Viennese
+bonbons and French fruit, bought brother Carlo's paintings, sent
+_petite_ Nita as a boarder to Miss Melford's, and studied under a great
+_maestro_.
+
+When a wee birdie came into the Russian nest she named it Endora Gloria,
+and her happiness and my pride were complete.
+
+Then came a great--a terrible blow. The count, whose opinions were
+liberal, was accused of being implicated in a revolutionary rising. He
+was cast into prison, and sent to the silver mines to work in the long
+underground passages for twenty years.
+
+Ivy Davis, who was very romantic, was grievously disappointed because
+the countess returned to her profession instead of sharing her husband's
+exile. But there came a day and an hour when she honoured as well as
+loved the _cantatrice_; for she with Heaven's help freed the count, and
+obtained his pardon from the Czar--she herself shall tell you how she
+gained it.
+
+Read the letter she sent to me:--
+
+
+"Gloria, Alexis is free; he is nursing Endora as I write.
+
+"When the officers took him from me I felt half mad, and knew
+not where to go.
+
+"One morning as I knelt by my little one's white bed an
+inspiration came; over the mantel was a picture of 'The Good
+Shepherd,' and I clasped my hands, and cried aloud:
+
+"'O bon Pasteur, help me to free Thy sheep.'
+
+"And lo, a voice seemed to answer: 'Daughter, use the talent
+that you have.'
+
+"I rose from my knees knowing what course to pursue. I sought
+new opportunities for the display of my one talent, I was more
+than successful, I became Narda the prima donna, and won golden
+guineas and opinions.
+
+"At last came my opportunity. I was to sing at Bayreuth in
+Wagner's glorious opera, I was to sing the Swan Song, and the
+Czar was to be present.
+
+"The house was crowded, there was row upon row, tier after tier
+of faces, but I saw one only--that of the Czar in his box.
+
+"I stood there before the footlights in shining white, and sang
+my song.
+
+"The heavenly music rose and fell, died away and rose again, and
+I sang as I had never done before. I sang for home, love, and
+child.
+
+"When the curtain fell the Czar sent for me and complimented me
+graciously, offering me a diamond ring which I gratefully
+refused.
+
+"'Sire,' I said, 'I ask for a gift more costly still.'
+
+"'Is it,' he asked, 'a necklace?'
+
+"'No, sire, it is my husband's pardon. Give my little daughter
+her father back.'
+
+"He frowned, hesitated, then said that he would inquire into the
+matter.
+
+"Gloria, he did, God be praised! The evidence was sifted, much
+of it was found to be false. The pardon was made out. Your
+nightingale had sung with her breast against a thorn, 'her song
+had been a prayer which Heaven itself had heard.'"
+
+
+
+
+II--ESTELLA: THE HEIRESS.
+
+
+Her Christian name Estella Marie, her starry eyes and pale, earnest
+face, and her tall, lissom figure were the only beautiful things about
+Estella Keed. Everything else, dress, home, appointments, were exceeding
+plain. For her grandfather in whose house she lived was, though
+reputedly wealthy, a miserly man.
+
+He lived in a large and antique house, with hooded windows, in Mercer's
+Lane, and was a dealer in antiques and curios. And his popular sobriquet
+was Simon the Saver (Anglice, miser).
+
+Stella was the only child of his only son, a clever musician, who had
+allied himself with a troupe of wandering minstrels, and married a
+Spaniard attached to the company, and who, when he followed his wife
+into the silent land, bequeathed his little girl to his father,
+beseeching him to overlook the estrangement of years, and befriend the
+orphan child. She inherited her name Estella from her Spanish mother,
+but they called her Molly in her new home--it was part of her
+discipline.
+
+Simon Keed had accepted, and fulfilled the trust in his own peculiar
+way. That is to say, he had sheltered, fed, and clothed Estella, and
+after some years' primary instruction in a elementary school, had sent
+her to Miss Melford's to complete her studies.
+
+Farther than this he had not gone, for she was totally without a proper
+outfit. In summer her patched and faded print frocks presented a
+pathetic contrast to the pink and blue cambrics, and floral muslins, of
+the other girls; and in winter, when velvets and furs were in evidence,
+the contrast made by her coarse plain serge, and untrimmed cape of Irish
+frieze, was quite as strong; indeed, her plainness was more than
+Quakerish, it was Spartan, she was totally destitute of the knicknacks
+so dear to the girlish heart, and though she had grown used to looking
+at grapes like Reynard in the fable, I am sure she often felt the sting
+of her grandfather's needless, almost cruel, economy. This was evidenced
+by what was ever after spoken of by us girls as the garden-party
+episode.
+
+Near the old city was a quaint and pretty village, one famed in local
+history as having in "teacup," Georgian, times been honoured by a visit
+by Mrs. Hannah More, who described it as Arcadian.
+
+It had a fine, well-timbered park, full of green hollows in which grew
+the "'rath primrose," and which harboured a large, Jacobean mansion,
+occupied, at the period of this story, by Dr. Tempest as a Boys'
+Preparatory School, and as Mrs. Tempest was an old friend of Miss
+Melford's, the senior pupils (both boarders and day scholars) were
+always invited to their annual garden- or breaking-up party, which was
+held in the lovely park.
+
+Stella, as one of the senior girls, was duly invited; but no one deemed
+that she would accept the invitation, because her grandfather had been
+heard to say that education was one thing, and frivolity another.
+
+"I suppose _you_ won't go to the party," said impulsive Ivy Davis, and
+Estella had answered with a darkened face:
+
+"I cannot say. When I'm not here I have to stay in that gloomy old
+house, like a mouse in its hole. But if I can go anyhow, Ivy, I shall,
+you may depend upon _that_."
+
+Then we heard no more about the matter until the eventful day, when, to
+our surprise, Estella presented herself with the other day scholars, in
+readiness to go.
+
+"Look, Gloria, look," said Ivy, in a loud whisper, as we filed through
+the hall, "Stella's actually managed to come, and to make herself
+presentable. _However_ did she do it?"
+
+"Hush," I whispered back, but, all the same, I also marvelled at the
+girl's appearance.
+
+Her heliotrope and white muslin skirt was somewhat faded, it was true,
+but still, it was good material, and was pretty. The same could be said
+of her cream blouse. The marvel and the mystery lay in hat, necklet, and
+shoes.
+
+The hat was of burnt straw, broad brimmed, low crowned, and of the
+previous summer's fashion. It was simply trimmed with a garland or band
+of dull black silk, and large choux of the same, all of which might have
+been fresher; but in front was an antique brooch, or buckle, of pale
+pink coral and gold, which was at once beautiful and curiously
+inconsistent with the rest of the costume. Round Estella's throat was a
+lovely gold and coral necklace, and her small, worn shoes boasted coral
+and gold buckles. She had got a coral set from somewhere, where and how
+we all wondered.
+
+Even Miss Melford was astonished and impressed by Estella's unwonted
+splendour, for touching the necklet, I overheard her say:
+
+"Very pretty, my dear! Your grandfather, I presume, gave you the set?
+Very kind of him!"
+
+Stella, with a flushed face, replied:
+
+"He did not give it, ma'am," and the matter dropped.
+
+Miss Melford and I presumed that Mr. Keed had simply lent his
+grand-daughter the articles--which likely enough belonged to his stock
+of antiquities--for the day.
+
+It was a delightful fete--one of those bright and happy days which are
+shining milestones along the road of life. The peacocks strutted about
+on the terrace and made us laugh when they spread out their tails. We
+ate strawberries and cream under the elms, played all kinds of outdoor
+games on the greensward, and when we were tired rested in the cool,
+pot-pourri scented parlours.
+
+I am of opinion that Estella enjoyed herself as much as any of us,
+though she became strangely quiet and downcast on our way home. But, as
+Ivy truly remarked, it was not to be wondered at; the fairy palace was
+left behind, and the role of Cinderella awaited her on the morrow.
+
+Upon the day succeeding the party, we broke up. I went home to spend the
+vacation with my uncle and aunt, and when I returned to school I found
+as usual, on reassembling, that there were a few vacant places, amongst
+them that of Estella Keed. I wondered how this was, though I did not
+presume to question Miss Melford on the subject; but one autumn morning,
+when passing through Mercer's Lane, I came across Estella. She looked
+shabby and disconsolate, in her faded gown and worn headgear, and I
+asked her if she had been unwell.
+
+"Oh dear no," was the response, "only very dull. I never go anywhere, or
+see any one--how can I help being so? I am only Molly now. No one calls
+me by my beautiful mother's name, Estella. I want to learn to be a
+typewriter, or something, and go and live in a big city, but grandpa
+says I must wait, and then he'll see about it! I detest this horrid
+lane!" she added passionately.
+
+I looked down the long, mediaeval street, with its gabled houses, and
+then at the old church tower (round which the birds were circling in the
+distance), and replied with truth that it was picturesque, and carried
+one back into the storied past.
+
+"I am tired of the past--it's all past at ours--the jewels have been
+worn by dead women, the old china, and bric-a-brac, has stood in empty
+houses! It's all of the dead and gone. So is the house, all the rooms
+are old. I should like to live in a new house."
+
+"Perhaps you want a change?" I said. "Why don't you come back to
+school?"
+
+She shook her head, and glanced away from me--up at the old Gothic
+church tower, and then said hurriedly:
+
+"I must hurry on now, Gloria--I am wanted--at home."
+
+One December evening not long after, during Miss Melford's hour with us,
+at recreation, she said:
+
+"Young ladies, you will be pleased to hear that your old schoolmate,
+Estella Keed, returns to us to-morrow."
+
+On the morrow Estella came, but how different was she from the old and
+the former Estella!
+
+She wore a suitable and becoming costume of royal blue, and was a
+beautiful and pleasant looking girl! Her own natural graces had their
+own proper setting. It seemed indeed as if all things had become new to
+her, as if she lived and breathed in a fresher and fairer world than of
+yore!
+
+Perhaps because I had been sympathetic in the hour of trouble, she
+attached herself to me, and one day, during recess, she told me why she
+had been temporarily withdrawn from school.
+
+"Gloria," she said, "grandfather never gave me his permission to go to
+the garden-party--indeed, I never asked for it, for I was quite sure
+that he would not give it.
+
+"But I meant to go all the same, and persuaded Mrs. Mansfield, the
+housekeeper, to help me. She it was who altered and did up an old gown
+of mother's for me to wear. But without the coral set I should not have
+been able to go; for, as you know, I had no adornments. I'd often seen
+them when on sale and wished for them; but I knew that they would
+neither be given nor lent for the party.
+
+"Then Fate, as it seemed, befriended me; my grandfather had to go to
+London about some curios on the date fixed for the party, and I
+determined to borrow the set and make myself look presentable. All I had
+to do was to go to the window and take them out of their satin-lined
+case.
+
+"I hoped to replace them before my grandfather returned from town, but
+when I got home from the fete I found that he had returned by an earlier
+and quicker train than he himself had expected to. He looked at me from
+head to foot, then touched the necklace and the clasp, and demanded of
+me sternly where I had been.
+
+"I was tongue-tied for a few moments, and then I blurted out the truth:
+
+"'Grandfather,' I said, 'I've been to Dr. Tempest's garden-party as one
+of Miss Melford's senior girls, and as I didn't want to be different
+from the other girls I borrowed the coral set for the day. They are not
+hurt in the least.'
+
+"The room seemed going round with me as I spoke, even the dutch cheese
+on the supper table seemed to be bobbing up and down.
+
+"At last my grandfather spoke:
+
+"'Take the set off and give them to me,' he said shortly.
+
+"I yielded up the treasures with trembling hands, and when I had done so
+he told me I should not return to school, and then added:
+
+"'Go to your room and don't let me hear of this affair again. I fear you
+are as fond of finery as your mother was.'
+
+"You know the rest. I did not return to Miss Melford's, and I should not
+have been here now but for Dr. Saunders. Soon after the garden-party my
+grandfather was taken ill, and the doctor had to be called in. I think
+he must have taken pity on me, and must have spoken to my grandfather
+about me. Anyhow, my grandfather called me to his bedside one day, and
+told me that he knew that he could not live many years longer, and that
+all he wanted was to leave me able--after he was gone--to live a good
+and useful life without want, and that if he had been too saving in the
+past, it was all that my future should be provided for. There was a
+strange tenderness in his voice. Strange at least it seemed to me, for I
+had never heard it there before, and I put my face down upon the pillow
+beside him and cried. He took my hand in his, and the silence was more
+full of hope and promise than any words of either could have been. I
+waited upon him after that, and he seemed to like to have me about him,
+and when he got better he told me that he wished me to return to school
+and to make the best use of my opportunities while I had them. He told
+me that he had decided to make me an allowance for dress, and that he
+hoped that I should so use it as to give him proof before he died that
+I could be trusted to deal wisely with all that he might have to leave."
+
+Estella remained at school until I left, and the last time I saw her
+there she was wearing the red coral set which had estranged her from her
+grandfather as a token of reconciliation; and she told me that the old
+man's hands trembled in giving them to her, even more than hers did in
+giving them up, as he said to her with tears in his eyes and voice:--
+
+"All that I have is thine."
+
+
+
+
+III.--MAURA: THE MUNIFICENT.
+
+
+I.
+
+WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.
+
+
+Maura was the most popular girl in the school. She would have been
+envied if she had not been so much loved. The reason was that she was
+amiable as well as pretty, she had plenty of pocket-money, and was
+generous to a fault. If a girl had lost, or mislaid, her gloves, Maura
+would instantly say, "Oh, don't make a fuss, go to my glove-box and take
+a pair." Or if a pupil's stock of pin-money ran out before the end of
+the quarter, she would slip a few shillings into her hand, merrily
+whispering:
+
+    "For every evil under the sun,
+    There's either a remedy, or there's none;
+        _I've_ found one."
+
+Maura was heiress of Whichello-Towers, in the north, with the broad
+lands appertaining. She was an orphan, her nearest relative being her
+uncle, a banker, who was her guardian, and somewhat anxious about his
+charge. So anxious indeed that he sometimes curtailed her allowance, in
+order to teach her prudence.
+
+"Maura, my dear, waste is wicked even in the wealthy; you need wisdom as
+well as wealth," said Miss Melford to her one day. And indeed she did,
+for sometimes the articles she bought for others were singularly
+extravagant and inappropriate.
+
+When Selina, the rosy-cheeked cook, was married from the school, the
+teachers and pupils naturally gave her wedding presents. My gift took
+the form of a teapot, Margot's of a dozen of fine linen handkerchiefs,
+and the others (with the exception of Maura) of things useful to a
+country gardener's wife.
+
+Maura bought a dress of heliotrope silk, elaborately trimmed with white
+lace, and as the bride truly observed, "Fit for a princess."
+
+But the heiress of Whichello had a lodging in all our hearts, and when
+I, one midwinter morning, saw her distraught with a troubled look in her
+soft brown eyes, I was grieved, and begged her to confide in me.
+
+"If I do, you cannot help me, Gloria," said Maura. "The fact is, I'm
+short of money."
+
+"Not an unusual state of affairs," rose to my lips, but the words
+changed as I uttered them.
+
+"Poor Maura! Surely _you_ have a little left?"
+
+"Only these," and she drew out two shillings.
+
+"Well, you must draw on my little bank, until your uncle sends your next
+remittance," was my reply.
+
+"It isn't any use. Gloria, you are nice, and sweet, but _your_ money
+would only be a drop in the ocean! I'm not to have any money all next
+quarter. This letter came this morning. Read it."
+
+I did. It was a letter from Maura's guardian, who informed her that he
+desired to give her an object lesson in thrift, and, therefore, would
+hold her next remittance--which had already been anticipated--over. He
+also intimated that any applications to him would be useless.
+
+"Well, things might be worse," was my comment, as I returned the letter.
+"You must let _me_ be your banker and must economise, and be prudent
+till the next cheque arrives."
+
+"Yes, I will--but----"
+
+"But what, Maura?"
+
+"I'm in debt--dreadfully in debt. See."
+
+With this she drew some papers from her pocket, and handed them to me.
+
+One by one I looked them over. The first was a coal dealer's bill for a
+fairly large load of coal.
+
+"_That_," said Maura, "was for old Mrs. Grant, in Black-Cross Buildings.
+She was _so_ cold, it made me quite creepy to look at her."
+
+I opened another. This was from a firm of motor-car and cycle dealers,
+and was the balance due upon a lady's cycle. I was perplexed.
+
+"Why, you said you never intended to cycle," I said, with amazement,
+"and _now_ you have bought this Peerless bicycle!"
+
+"Yes, but it was not for myself," she said, "I gave it to Meg Morrison
+to ride to and from her work in the City! Trams and 'buses don't run to
+Kersley, and it was a terrible walk for the poor girl."
+
+"Could not Meg have bought one on the instalment system for herself?"
+
+"Why, Gloria, how mean you are! She has seven brothers and sisters, and
+four of them are growing boys, with appetites! The butcher and baker
+claim just all she earns."
+
+I opened the third yellow envelope, and was surprised to see a bill
+with: To Joseph Greenaway, Furniture Dealer, one child's mahogany cot L1
+10_s_, upon it.
+
+"Maura," I cried, "this is the climax. Why ever did you buy a baby's
+cot--and how came Mr. Greenaway to trust you? You are only a minor--an
+infant in law!"
+
+"Oh, do stop," said Maura; "you're like Hermione or Rosalind,
+or--somebody--who put on a barrister's gown in the play----"
+
+"Portia, I suppose you mean?"
+
+"Yes, Portia. Mr. Greenaway let me have the cot because I once bought a
+little blue chair from him, for Selina's baby, for which I paid _cash
+down_."
+
+It is impossible to describe the triumphant manner in which she uttered
+"cash down," it was as if she had said, _I_ paid the national debt.
+
+"Now," she proceeded, "I'll tell you why I bought it--I was one day
+passing a weaver's house in Revel Lane, when I saw a young woman crying
+bitterly but silently at the bottom of one of the long entries or
+passages. 'I fear you are in trouble' I said. 'Is any one ill?'
+
+"She shook her head. She couldn't speak for a moment, then whispered:
+
+"'Daisie's cot has followed the loom!'
+
+"I asked her what following the loom meant.
+
+"'O young lady,' she replied, 'the weaver's trade has been mortle bad
+lately, and last week I sold Daisie's cot for the rent--and when the
+broker took it up I thought my heart would break; but hearts don't
+break, missie, they just go on achin'.'
+
+"Daisie was her only child, and the cot was a carved one, an heirloom in
+which several generations of the family had slept!
+
+"I had only a florin in my purse, but I gave her that, took her name and
+address and walked on.
+
+"But the woman haunted me. All the rest of the day I seemed to see her
+weeping in the long, grey street, and to hear _her_ sobbing above the
+sound of the music in the music-room, and when I woke up in the middle
+of the night, I thought I would go to Mr. Greenaway the next day, and
+ask him to let me have a cot, and I'd pay him out of my next quarter's
+pocket-money. The very next day he sent the crib--'From an unknown
+friend.' That's all, Gloria! Now, what shall I do?"
+
+"Go and tell Miss Melford all about it," said I. "Come, _now_."
+
+Maura shrank from the ordeal, but in the end I persuaded her to
+accompany me to the cedar parlour, where the Lady Principal was writing.
+
+A wood fire burned cheerily on the white marble hearth, and the winter
+sunlight fell brightly on the flower-stand full of flowers--amidst which
+the piping bullfinch, Puffball, hopped about.
+
+Miss Melford, with her satin-brown hair, and golden-brown silk dress,
+was a pleasant figure to look upon as she put down her pen, and said
+sweetly:
+
+"Well, girls, what is it?"
+
+Maura drew back and was silent, but I was spokeswoman for her; and when
+I concluded my story there was silence for a few moments.
+
+Then Miss Melford rose, and putting an arm round Maura's shoulders,
+gravely, but at the same time tenderly, in her own sweet way, pointed
+out the moral of the situation, and then added:
+
+"You shall accompany me to see the people who have generously (if
+unwisely) allowed you to have the goods, and I will explain matters, and
+request them to wait."
+
+Maura was a quiet, subdued girl for a time after this, but a few days
+later she knocked timidly at Miss Melford's door. Miss Melford was
+alone, and bade her enter. Once in the room Maura hesitated, and then
+said:
+
+"Please, Miss Melford, may I ask a favour?"
+
+"Certainly, my dear! What is it?"
+
+"If I can find any right and honourable way of earning the money to pay
+the bills with, may I do so?"
+
+"Assuredly," said Miss Melford, "if you will submit your plan to my
+approval; but, Maura, I am afraid you will find it is harder to earn
+money than you think."
+
+"Oh yes, I know money is hard to get, and very, very easy to spend. What
+a queer world it is!" was Maura's comment, as she left the room.
+
+
+II.
+
+THE BAL MASQUE.
+
+
+There was to be a Children's Fancy Dress Ball--a Bal Masque, to which
+all Miss Melford's senior pupils were going, and little else was talked
+of weeks before the great event was due!
+
+Margot was to go as Evangeline, and I was to be Priscilla the Puritan
+Maiden, but none of us knew in what character Maura Merle was to appear.
+It was kept secret.
+
+Knowing the state of her finances, both Miss Melford and the girls
+offered to provide her costume, but she gratefully and firmly rejected
+both proposals, saying that she had made arrangements for a dress, and
+that it would be a surprise.
+
+And indeed it was, for when we all assembled in the white drawing-room,
+in readiness for our escort to the Town Hall, Maura was what newspapers
+style "the cynosure of all eyes."
+
+She wore a frock of pale blue silk! and all over it in golden letters
+were the words: "Sweets from Fairyland."
+
+Her waving golden hair was adorned by a small, white satin, Trigon hat,
+ornamented with a blue band, on which were the words: "Fairy Queen."
+
+From her waist depended an elaborate bonbonniere, her sash was dotted
+all over with imitation confections of various kinds, her blue satin
+shoes had rosettes of tiny bonbons, and her domino suggested chocolate
+cream.
+
+There were of course loud exclamations of--"What does this mean, Maura?"
+
+"Why, you are Fairy Queen, like the Fairyland Confectioner's Company's
+advertisements!" but all Maura said was:
+
+"Girls, Miss Melford knows all about it, and approves."
+
+At this juncture, Miss Melford's voice was heard saying: "Follow me, my
+dears," and we all filed out of the room, and down the stairs to the
+carriages in waiting. The Town Hall was beautifully decorated, and the
+costumes were delightful. There were cavaliers, sweeps, princesses, and
+beggar-maids, but no one attracted more notice than Fairy Queen, who
+instead of dancing glided about amongst the company, offering fondants
+and caramels from her big bonbonniere.
+
+The young guests laughed as they ate the sweetmeats, and rallied her
+upon the character she had chosen.
+
+"Why have you left Fairyland?" asked a musketeer, and Fairy Queen
+replied:
+
+"Because I want you all to have fairy fare."
+
+"Won't you dance, Fairy Queen?" asked Bonnie Prince Charlie,
+persuasively, but Fairy Queen curtsied, and answered:
+
+"I pray you excuse me, I'm on duty for the Company in Wayverne Square."
+
+I guessed that there was something behind all this, and the sequel
+proved my conjecture true.
+
+For when the Bal Masque was a golden memory, Maura came to me with a
+little bundle of receipted bills in her hand, saying:
+
+"Look, Gloria, "Fairy Queen" paid _these_. I was with Ivy in a
+confectioner's one day when the mistress told us that a member of the
+newly started firm of sweetmeat manufacturers, who traded as the
+Fairyland Company, had said that he wished _he_ had a daughter who could
+go to the ball as Fairy Queen, and exploit his goods.
+
+"I thought to myself: 'Well, Maura Merle could do it,' and I went to the
+Company and offered to undertake the duty, subject, of course, to Miss
+Melford's permission.
+
+"They said they would give me a handsome sum, and provide the dress, and
+I wrote to Uncle Felix, and begged him to let me have his sanction.
+
+"His answer was: 'The money will be honestly earned, earn it.'
+
+"So I did! The Company were much pleased with me, and here are the
+receipted bills. I need hardly tell you how much I enjoyed being what a
+newsboy in the street called me, 'The Little Chocolate Girl!'"
+
+
+
+
+IV.--MARGOT: THE MARTYR.
+
+
+I.
+
+AT SCHOOL.
+
+
+"Mademoiselle Margot, Professor Revere's daughter, who has come to share
+your English studies, girls," said Miss Melford, presenting a tall,
+clear-complexioned, sweet-faced girl one May morning on the opening of
+school.
+
+The new-comer bowed gracefully, and then took a vacant seat next to me,
+and we all took good-natured notice of her, for her black frock was worn
+for her newly lost mother, and her father, our popular French master,
+was an exile, who for a supposed political offence had forfeited his
+estate, near La Ville Sonnante, as the old city of Avignon is often
+called. Margot would have been _une grande demoiselle_ in her own
+country had not monsieur fallen under the displeasure of a powerful
+cabinet minister during a change of _regime_, and Miss Melford's girls
+were of opinion that the position would have suited her, and she the
+position.
+
+Mademoiselle Margot soon interested us all, not only in herself, but in
+her antecedents and prospects. She was never tired of talking of her old
+associations, and that with an enthusiasm that aroused our sympathy and
+inspired our hopes.
+
+"Picture to yourself," she would say, "Mon Desir on a summer's day, the
+lawns spreading out their lovely carpet for the feet, the trees waving
+their glorious foliage overhead, the birds singing in the branches, the
+bees humming in the parterre, and the water plashing in the fountains.
+_Maman_ loved it, as I did, and the country people loved us as we loved
+them. _Maman_ used to say, 'A little sunshine, a little love, a little
+self-denial, that is life.' Even had we been poor there, walked instead
+of ridden, ate brown bread in lieu of white, we should have been amongst
+our own people. But now----"
+
+Then we would all crowd round her and spin romances about the Prince
+Charming who would come her way, and present her with Mon Desir, with
+all its dear delights, and with it--his own hand.
+
+Margot's failing was a too sensitive pride. She was proud both of and
+for the professor. She could not forget that he was, as she would say,
+_un grand gentilhomme_, that his ancestors had fought with Bayard and
+Turenne, had been gentlemen-in-waiting to kings, had wedded women who
+were ladies of the court.
+
+I discovered this slight fault of my darling's on one occasion in this
+way: as we girls were going our usual noonday walk, we came to a large,
+red-brick house, standing alone in its own grounds; it was not a cottage
+of gentility, but a place which an estate agent would have described as
+a desirable mansion. Everything about it, mutely, but eloquently, said
+money. Big glass-houses, big coach-houses, big plate glass windows,
+spacious gardens, trim lawns, etc., etc., etc.
+
+As the school filed past, an elaborate barouche drew up to the iron
+gateway, and a lady, who was about entering it, stared at our party, and
+then looked keenly at Margot. She was a pretty woman, blonde, with a
+mass of fluffy, honey-coloured hair, and a cold, pale blue pair of eyes.
+Her costume was of smooth, blue-grey cloth, the flowing cloak lined with
+ermine, and her hat a marvel of millinery; indeed, she presented a
+striking contrast to the professor's daughter in her plain, neat black
+coat and frock, and small toque, with its trimming of white narcissi,
+and I cannot say that I was favourably impressed by the unknown, she was
+far too cold and purse-proud looking to please me.
+
+After a close and none too polite scrutiny, the lady bowed, approached,
+and held out her hand.
+
+"Good-morning, Miss Revere," she said graciously, yet with more than a
+suspicion of patronage, "I trust the professor is well," and without
+waiting for an answer, "and your mother? We have been so busy
+entertaining, that I have been quite unable to call, or send! However,
+tell her that I am going to send for her to Bellevue, the very _first_
+day I'm alone, the _very first_!"
+
+We two girls were alone (the rest having gone on with Fraeulein
+Schwartze), and there was silence for a moment, during which the lady
+turned toward her well-appointed carriage; then Margot spoke, with some
+asperity, though I heard the tears in her silvery voice.
+
+"Mrs. Seawood," she said, "there is no more need to trouble; _maman_ has
+gone where no one will be ashamed of her because she was poor."
+
+The lady turned a little pale, and expressed herself as shocked, and
+then, having offered some cold condolences, spoke to the coachman; and
+as we passed on we heard the quick rattle of the horses' hoofs, as the
+barouche rolled down the long drive.
+
+There are times when silence is golden, and _this_ was one! I did not
+speak until we came to a five-barred gate, on the topmost rung of which
+Margot laid her arms, bent her head, and sobbed like a little child.
+
+I put my arm round her neck to comfort her.
+
+"Margot, _cherie_," I whispered, "tell me why you weep."
+
+It appeared that the professor had been used to teach the little
+delicate son of the purse-proud lady, and that he had taken great
+interest in the little fellow both on account of his backwardness and
+frail health.
+
+"After he died," said Margot, "his mother seemed grateful for these
+small kindnesses, and called upon us. Sometimes she sent the carriage
+for _maman_ to spend a few hours at Bellevue, but always when the
+weather was unpleasant. Then, you see, I used to go to the Seawoods for
+my mother, take bouquets of violets, Easter eggs, and other small
+complimentary tokens of regard, and madame would exclaim, 'How sweet!'
+or 'How lovely!' but always in a patronising manner. I only told the
+'How sweet!' and 'How beautiful!' to mother, because _she_ used to look
+wistfully at me, and say how glad she was that I had some English
+friends.
+
+"Once, I remember, I was passing Bellevue at night with papa; it was a
+cold, January evening, with snow falling, and we shivered a little.
+They were giving a grand party, the house was lit up like an enchanted
+palace, and papa (who is often as sweetly simple as Don Quixote) said:
+
+"'I cannot understand why your friends have overlooked you, _petite_,
+you could have worn the little grey frock with blue trimmings, eh?'
+
+"They never understood how hollow a friendship it was. They could not
+realise that others could display a meanness of which they themselves
+were incapable, and I suppose it was only my own proud heart, less free
+from the vanity of human weakness than theirs, which made me detect and
+resent it; and so I had to endure the misery of this proud patronage and
+let my parents think I was enjoying the friendship of love. To be proud
+and dependent, Gloria, is to be poor indeed. But I must conquer my
+pride, if only that I may conquer my poverty, and as Miss Melford told
+us at scripture this morning, he that conquers his own proud heart is
+greater than he that taketh a city."
+
+Then she linked her arm in mine, and said:
+
+"The Good God has allowed me to become poor, but he has given me _one_
+talent, I can paint, and if only for papa's sake I must overcome evil
+with good and try to win a victory over myself."
+
+
+II.
+
+THE PALM-BEARERS.
+
+
+Miss Melford, and a chosen party of the senior girls (of whom I was
+one), stood in our beautiful Art Gallery attentively studying a water
+colour on the line. The picture was numbered 379 in the catalogue, was
+called "Palm-Bearers," and was painted by Miss Margot Revere! _Our
+Margot_, the girl who had been my classmate, whom I had loved as a
+sister. The scene portrayed was a procession of early Christians
+entering an Eastern city at Eastertide. There were matrons and maids,
+golden-haired children, and white-haired men, all bearing green palm
+branches, under an intense, cerulean sky.
+
+"Well done, Margot," said Miss Melford softly, with a suspicious dimness
+in her eyes, and there was a general chorus of approval from all
+beholders.
+
+Margot, who was much older than I, had left school long since, had
+studied, worked, copied in the great Art Galleries, exhibited, and sold
+her works.
+
+She was then in Rome with her father, who had become blind, and I had at
+that moment a long letter from her in my bag, as I stood looking at her
+picture. In one passage of it she had written: "the girl with the crown
+of white roses in my last painting is my little Gloria, my girl comrade,
+who consoled me when I was sad, who watched next my pillow when I was
+sick, and when sad memories made me cry at night crept to me through the
+long dormitory and knelt beside me, like a white-robed ministering
+angel. Apropos of palms, mama was a palm-bearer; I must win one before I
+look on her dear, dear face." As I thought on these words, Miss
+Melford's voice speaking to Gurda broke in on my thoughts.
+
+"Dear, dear, how extremely like to Gloria is that figure in the middle
+of Margot's painting!"
+
+"Of course, Miss Melford, Margot will have sketched it from her. She was
+her chum, her soul's sister."
+
+"Her soul's sister!" Those three words went with me through the gallery;
+into the sculpture room, amidst white marble figures, into the room full
+of Delia Robbia and majolica ware, everywhere!
+
+Even when we descended the flight of steps, and came into the great
+white square, I seemed to hear them in the plashing of the fountains.
+
+
+III.
+
+THE RAIN OF FIRE.
+
+
+It was August, and rain had fallen on the hot, parched earth.
+
+The bells in the church tower were ringing a muffled peal, and as I
+listened to the sad, sweet music, I thought of Margot, lonely Margot,
+who had seen her father laid under the ilex trees, and then gone to
+visit a distant relative at Chateau Belair in the West Indies. It was a
+strange coincidence, but as I thought of her the servant brought in a
+card, bearing the name, M. Achille Levasseur, beneath which was
+pencilled:
+
+"Late of Chateau Belair, and cousin of the late Mademoiselle Margot
+Revere."
+
+So Margot was dead, had gone to join her loved ones where there are no
+distinctions between rich and poor.
+
+Stunned, and half incredulous, I told the maid to show him in, and in a
+few minutes a tall, dark, foreign looking man stood in the bright,
+flower-scented room which (it being recess), I occupied in Miss
+Melford's absence.
+
+I rose, bowed, and asked him to be seated, then, with an effort, said:
+
+"M'sieu, I am Gloria, Margot's chum, and chosen sister. Tell _me_ about
+her."
+
+The story was a short one, we had neither of us a desire to dwell upon
+the details. The island had been subject to the fury rain of a
+quenchless volcano. Whole villages had been overwhelmed and buried in
+the burning lava, and hundreds had met with a fiery death. In the midst
+of the mad confusion, Margot's calm presence and example inspired the
+strong, reassured the terrified, aided the feeble, and helped many on
+the way to safety. How many owed their lives to her, her cousin could
+not say, but that it was at the cost of her own, was only too terribly
+true. She had helped her cousin's family on to the higher ground, which
+ensured safety from the boiling lava, only to discover that one little
+one had been left behind peacefully sleeping in her cot, the little
+baby who had been christened Gloria at Margot's desire in memory of me.
+It was a terrible moment to all but Margot, and to her it was the moment
+of a supreme inspiration. She dashed down the hill before she could be
+stayed, though the ground shook under her feet, and the burning sea of
+fiery rain was pouring down the valley below. She reached the house and
+seized the infant, and started with frenzied speed to ascend the hill
+again. Her cousin, who had seen to the safety of the others of his
+family, had now started out to meet her. They saw each other and hurried
+with all the speed they could to meet. Within touch a terrific explosion
+deafened them as the father seized his child, and Margot, struck by a
+boulder belched from the throat of the fierce volcano, sank back into
+the fiery sea.
+
+As M. Levasseur ceased, there came through the open window the silvery
+sound of the minster bells. They were playing the lovely air,
+
+    Angels ever bright and fair,
+    Take, O take, me to your care.
+
+It came to me that they had taken Margot in a chariot of fire, and I
+seemed to see her in an angel throng with a palm branch in her hand.
+
+My favourite trinket is a heart-shaped locket, containing a lock of dark
+brown hair, intermixed with golden threads. It is both a souvenir, and a
+mascot; for the hair is from the head of my girl chum Margot.
+
+
+
+
+V.--IRENE: THE SNOW FLOWER.
+
+
+I.
+
+BEDFELLOWS.
+
+
+Amongst Miss Melford's intimate friends, when I was a boarder at her
+school, was a silvery-haired, stately lady, known as Mrs. Dace, who in
+her early life had been _gouvernante_ to the Imperial children at the
+court of the Czar. Her old friends and pupils wrote to her frequently,
+and she still took a keen interest in the Slav, and in things Slavonic.
+
+When her Russian friends--the Petrovskys--came to England, they left
+their youngest child, Irene, as a pupil at Miss Melford's school, to
+pursue her education while they travelled in Western Europe for a while.
+
+Irene Petrovsky was a pretty little thing, with flaxen hair and clear
+blue eyes, and we called her the Snow Flower, after that beautiful
+Siberian plant which blooms only in midwinter. I have never forgotten
+her first appearance at the school. When Miss Melford led her into the
+classroom we all looked up at the small figure in its plain white cloth
+frock trimmed with golden sable, and admired the tiny fair curls which
+clustered round her white brow. She made a grand court curtsey, and then
+sat silently, like a wee white flower, in a corner.
+
+We elder pupils were made guardians of the younger ones in Miss
+Melford's school, and it was my duty as Irene's guardian to take her to
+rest in the little white nest next to mine in the long dormitory. In the
+middle of the first night I was disturbed by a faint sobbing near me,
+and I sat up to listen. The sobs proceeded from the bed of the little
+Russian girl, and I found she was crying for her elder sister, who, she
+said, used to take her in her arms and hold her by the hand until she
+fell asleep. A happy thought came to me; my white nest was larger than
+hers. So I bade her creep into it, which she readily did, and nestled up
+to me, like a trembling, affrighted little bird, falling at last into a
+calm, sweet sleep.
+
+From that time forward we two were firm friends, and the girls used to
+call the Little Russ, Gloria's shadow.
+
+She was very grateful, and I in my turn grew to love her dearly; so
+dearly that when her father, the count, came to take her home, in
+consequence of the death of her mother, I felt as if I had lost a little
+sister.
+
+Ever after this our little snow flower was a fragrant memory to me. I
+often thought of her, and wondered as I watched the white clouds moving
+across the summer sky, or the silver moon shining in the heavens,
+whether she too was looking out upon the same fair scene from the other
+side the sea and thinking of her some time sister of Miss Melford's
+school.
+
+
+II.
+
+AFTER MANY DAYS.
+
+
+Some years after I had left the school financial difficulties beset my
+uncle's affairs. Aunt Ducie died in the midst of them, and Uncle Gervase
+did not long survive. Our household gods went under the auctioneer's
+hammer, our beautiful home became the home of strangers, and I went to
+live in an obscure quarter of a distant town. My means being exceeding
+small, I took rooms in a small house in a semi-rural suburb, and from
+thence began to look for work for pen and pencil. I had learned to draw,
+and had succeeded in one or two small attempts at story telling, and
+with my pen and pencil for crutches, and with youth and hope on my side,
+I started out with nervous confidence upon the highway of fame.
+
+Cherry-Tree Avenue was a long, narrow street within a stone's throw of
+the grim, grey castellated towers of the county gaol, and the weekly
+tenants who took the small, red-brick houses were continually changing.
+
+Facing us was No. 3, Magdala Terrace, a house which was empty for some
+weeks, but one April evening a large van full of new furniture drove up
+to it, followed by a respectable looking man and woman of the artisan
+class, who soon began to set the house in order. Before sleep had fallen
+on the shabby street a cab drove up to No. 3, and from it stepped a
+woman, tall, slight, and closely veiled. I had been to the pillar box to
+post an answer to an advertisement, and it happened that I passed the
+door of the newly let house as the cab drew up. Without waiting to be
+summoned, the trim young woman came out to welcome the new-comer, and
+said in French:
+
+"Madame, the place is poor, but clean, and quiet, and," lowering her
+voice, "fitted for observation."
+
+In spite of my own anxieties I wondered who the stranger could be, and
+why the little house was to be an observatory. Then I remembered the
+vicinity of the big gaol, and thought that madame might have an interest
+in one of the black sheep incarcerated there.
+
+Very soon strange rumours began to circulate amongst the dwellers in the
+avenue. The bright young woman was madame's foster sister; madame
+herself was of high degree, a countess, or one of even nobler rank,
+travelling in disguise; the quiet, dark young man, her foster sister's
+husband, was a woodcarver, who was out of work and only too glad to
+serve the foreign lady, who out of generous pity had come to stay with
+them.
+
+I, of course, gave no credence to these seemingly absurd reports, but,
+all the same, I was aware that there was a mystery at No. 3. The lady
+was young, beautiful, and distinguished looking, she had dark, pathetic,
+haunting eyes, which reminded me forcibly of other eyes I had seen, but
+when and where I could not recall; and though her dresses were dark,
+they were _chic_, the word Paris was writ plain on all her toques.
+
+Madame made no friends, and it was clear from the first that she desired
+to be undisturbed, at any rate by her neighbours. Every now and again
+there were visitors at No 3, but these were strangers, foreign looking
+visitors, cloaked, swarthy and sombre men who came and went, one of whom
+I overheard say in French as he flicked the ash from his cigar: "Chut!
+the rat keeps in his hole, he will not stir."
+
+At Maytime, in the early gloaming, the foreign lady and I met in the
+narrow street.
+
+We met face to face, and passed each other with a slight bow of
+recognition; a moment after I heard soft, hurried footfalls, and the
+strange lady was by my side.
+
+She held out an envelope addressed to me, saying:
+
+"Pardon me, if I mistake not, you dropped this. Is it not so?"
+
+I thanked her, and took the letter, saying:
+
+"It _is_ mine, and I should have troubled had I lost it."
+
+This little incident broke down our old-time reserve, and saying:
+
+"I go to-morrow," she placed a bunch of amber roses she was carrying in
+my hand. I thanked her, and asked by what name I might remember her?
+
+"As Nadine," she whispered softly. "I need not ask you yours."
+
+The mention of the name electrified me. Here was I bidding farewell to
+Nadine, whose little sister Irene, our sweet snow flower, I had loved
+and lost at the old school far away.
+
+Nadine noticed my excitement, and putting her finger to her lips,
+cautioned me to silence. But I was not to be denied.
+
+"Irene?" I said in a whisper, "Irene, where is Irene?"
+
+"Hush!" she said, taking me by the arm and drawing me in at the open
+doorway of No. 3. "Speak of it not again. Irene fell a victim to our
+cruel Russian laws, and lies beside her husband among the snow tombs of
+Siberia."
+
+The next morning the strange dark house was empty. The woodcarver and
+his wife, and the beautiful Nadine, had vanished with the shadows of the
+night.
+
+
+
+
+VI.--NADINE: THE PRINCESS.
+
+
+I.
+
+WHICHELLO TOWERS.
+
+
+It was between the lights. I was looking down the dingy street from
+behind the curtains of my little window at the postman who was working
+his way slowly from side to side delivering his messages of hope and
+fear, and was wondering whether I was among those to whom he bore
+tidings of joy or sorrow. I had few correspondents, and no expectations,
+and so it was with surprise that I saw him ultimately turn in at our
+little garden gate and place a letter in our box.
+
+I was not long in breaking the seal, and it was with real delight and
+surprise that I discovered that it was from my old schoolfellow, the
+generous and sometimes extravagant Maura. It ran thus:
+
+                                         "WHICHELLO TOWERS,
+                                                  _October 3rd._
+
+     "MY DEAR ABSURD LITTLE GLORIA,--
+
+     "Why have you hidden away from your friends so long? Was it
+     pride, self-styled dignity? Never mind, I have found you
+     out at last, and I want you to join our house-party here.
+     We have some interesting people with us of whom you can
+     make pencil sketches and pen pictures (they call them
+     cameos or thumbnails, do they not?). Amongst them are the
+     beautiful Princess Milontine, who wrote, 'Over the
+     Steppes,' and the famous Russian General, Loris Trakoff.
+
+     "The change will do you good. Name the day and time of your
+     arrival, and I will meet you at the station. There are
+     surprises in store for you, but you must come if you would
+     realise them.
+
+                                     "Your affectionate MAURA."
+
+I put by the missive, and meditated over the pros and cons. My wardrobe
+would need replenishing, and I had none too much money to spend. I could
+manage this, however, but there arose another question.
+
+I was a worker--would it do me harm to disport myself in the flowery
+mead with the butterflies? Should I feel a distaste for the bread earned
+by labour and pain after the honey placed, effortless, on my plate?
+
+So much for the cons. The pros were these:
+
+Black, being most inexpensive in a smoky town, was my wear, relieved by
+a few touches of blue. And I should not go as a butterfly, but as a
+quiet worker in my dark things. I need only buy a new walking costume,
+and a fresh dinner dress. The costume difficulty was disposed of. Then
+again, I had been without a day's change for five years; and here was
+the prospect of one I should enjoy. The pros had the victory, I went.
+
+I arrived at the station in the gloaming, when twilight veiled the
+everlasting hills, and found two figures waiting on the narrow platform.
+
+One of these had a fresh, fair, bonnie face, framed in hair of a golden
+brown, and I knew her for Maura Merle, my old schoolfellow, the lady of
+Whichello Towers. The other was darker, taller, and the very dark blue
+eyes had a pensive expression, she could have posed as a study for
+Milton's _Il Pensoroso_, and I did not recognise her for an instant, and
+then I exclaimed: "Not--not 'Stella."
+
+"Yes, 'Stella," said Maura. Our own beautiful Estella and the miser's
+heiress came forward and kissed my first surprise away. As she did so I
+noticed that she was wearing the beautiful coral set which had wrought
+the tragedy of her school days.
+
+We had naturally much to say to each other, and as we walked towards
+Whichello Towers together, Maura said:
+
+"You have worked and suffered, Gloria, since we were last together. You
+look thoughtful, are graver, and there are violet circles under your
+eyes, which used to be so merry."
+
+"Yes," I said, "I've had to fight the battle of life for myself since I
+left school, but it makes the more welcome this reunion with my old
+schoolfellows."
+
+"Speaking of them," interposed Maura, "we have Princess Milontine
+staying with us--little Irene's sister--I left her doing the honours on
+my behalf when I came to meet you."
+
+This then was the second surprise in store for me. Neither of my
+companions had the slightest idea how great a surprise it was.
+
+Naturally, we had much to talk of during our walk up to the Towers, Miss
+Melford had passed away, and one or two of my old companions had
+followed her across the border. Irene was, of course, one of them, but
+I took the news of her death as though I had not heard it before.
+
+I had not heard of Miss Melford's death previously, and the angel of
+memory came down and troubled the waters of my soul, so I was silent for
+a time.
+
+The silence was broken by Maura, saying:
+
+"There is something painful, if not tragical, connected with Irene's
+death, of which the princess refuses to speak; so the subject is never
+mentioned to her." And then, as if to change the subject, she added, "I
+have named my little daughter Cordelia after Miss Melford, but we call
+her Corrie."
+
+As she spoke we came in sight of The Towers--a large, four-winged
+mansion, with pepper box turrets, oriel windows, a square lawn, and many
+tree-lined walks.
+
+"Home," said Maura, and in a few minutes I found myself in the large
+warm hall, bright with firelight, and sweet with autumn flowers.
+
+Standing by a table, and turning over the leaves of a book, stood a
+graceful woman in fawn and cream, who turned round upon our entrance,
+saying:
+
+"There is tea on the way, you will take some?"
+
+"Thank you, princess, yes, directly we come down," said Maura, and then
+she added: "See, I have brought an old friend to see you, Gloria,
+Princess Milontine."
+
+The foreign lady held out her hand, and as I took it I found myself
+almost involuntarily murmuring, "Nadine." For the dark pathetic eyes of
+the Russian princess were those of the mysterious foreigner who had
+lodged in Cherry-Tree Avenue. She kissed me (foreign fashion) on both
+cheeks, and as she did so whispered: "Hush! let the dead past sleep."
+
+Wondering much, I held my peace and went to inspect the sunshine of
+Whichello Towers, the pretty dimpled Corrie; and though I forgot the
+incident during the evening, I remembered it when I found myself in my
+own room.
+
+Why had Nadine lived in the mean street with the so-called woodcarver
+and his wife? She was a widow, true, but widows of rank do not usually
+lodge in such humble places for pleasure. Then again, what was the
+mystery attaching to Irene? Would the tangled skein ever be unravelled?
+Time would show.
+
+Whichello Towers was more than a great house, it was a home, a northern
+liberty hall, surrounded by woods and big breezy moors. There was
+something for every one in this broad domain. A fine library full of
+rare editions of rare books, a museum of natural history specimens, a
+gallery of antiquities, a lake on which to skate or row, preserves in
+which to shoot, a grand ball-room with an old-world polished floor, a
+long corridor full of pictures and articles of vertu, and a beautiful
+music-room.
+
+Princess Nadine and I were much together, we talked of her little
+sister's school-days, but never of her latter ones, the subject was
+evidently tabooed.
+
+General Trakoff (a stern, military man who had once been governor of the
+penal settlement of O----) was evidently devoted to the beautiful Russ,
+and I found myself hoping that she would not become "Madame la
+Generale," for though the general was the very pink of politeness, I
+could not like him.
+
+I had spent a happy fortnight at the Towers when the incident occurred
+which will always remain the most vivid in my memory. A sudden and
+severe frost had set in. All the trees turned to white coral, the lake
+was frozen stone hard. There were naturally many skating parties
+organised, and in these Nadine and I generally joined. One morning,
+after we had been skating for nearly half an hour, the princess averred
+herself tired, and said she would stand out for a time. The general
+declared that he would also rest awhile, and the two left the lake
+together, and stood watching the skaters at the edge of the pine wood.
+
+By-and-by I too grew a little weary, and thought I would go for a stroll
+by myself through the woods I loved so much. The air was fresh and keen,
+squirrels jumped about in the trees, and the storm-cock sang blithely.
+Through an opening in the glade I saw the princess and the general
+chatting _en tete-a-tete_.
+
+As I came up the former was saying, in a tone of earnest raillery:
+
+"Now, tell me, general, is there nothing you regret doing, or having
+allowed to be done, when you were administrator of O----?"
+
+She spoke with a strange, almost tragic, earnestness, and when her
+companion replied:
+
+"No, on my honour, princess."
+
+She bowed gravely. A moment later, with a careless laugh, she opened a
+gold bonbonniere full of chocolate caramels, and held it temptingly
+towards him.
+
+He hesitated, and as he did so I put my arm through the branches, and
+with a playful:
+
+"By your leave, princess," attempted to help myself.
+
+Nadine started, and closed the box with a snap, a strange pallor coming
+over her white, set face. The general looked gravely at her, and then,
+raising his hat, with a "Till we meet again," walked leisurely away.
+
+I must own to being slightly offended, I was childishly fond of
+chocolate, and the act seemed so inexplicably discourteous. We walked to
+the house in silence, neither of us speaking, until we reached the side
+entrance. Here the princess paused by the nail-studded oaken door, and
+said:
+
+"There will come a day when things done in secret will be declared upon
+the housetops, then (if not before) you will know the secret of the gold
+bonbonniere. Say, 'Forgiven, Nadine.'"
+
+And I said it with my hand in hers.
+
+How glad I was afterwards that I had done so.
+
+
+II.
+
+THE PASSING OF NADINE.
+
+
+Throughout the great house of Whichello Towers there was a hush.
+Soft-footed servants went to and fro, all the guests save Estella and I
+went away with many condolences. The Princess Nadine was passing away
+in the room overlooking the pine woods. She had been thrown from her
+horse whilst hunting with the Whichello hounds, and the end was not far
+off.
+
+I was sitting in the library with a great sadness in my heart, when the
+door opened, and Canon Manningtree, the white-haired rector of
+Whichello, came into the room.
+
+"Miss Dene," he said gravely, "in the absence of a priest of the Greek
+Church, I have ministered to Princess Milontine. She is going to meet a
+merciful Saviour who knows her temptations, and the singular
+circumstances in which she has been placed. She desires to see you. Do
+not excite her. Speak to her of the infinite love of God. Will you
+please go to her _now_."
+
+Weeping, I went.
+
+Sitting beside the sufferer was Maura, who rose when I came in, and left
+us two alone, save for that unseen Angel who calls us to the presence of
+our God.
+
+The princess looked at me with her beautiful wistful eyes, as she had
+looked when she gave me the amber roses in the narrow street.
+
+"Gloria, little sister, I am going to tell _how_ Irene died."
+
+"No, no, not if it distresses you."
+
+"I would rather tell you. Listen! I have not much time to speak. As you
+know, we are of a noble Russian family, and Irene and I were the only
+children. I was ten years older than Irene, and was educated in France;
+she came to England, and was your schoolmate!
+
+"I was passionately fond of the child I had seen an infant lying in her
+pink-lined cot, and when she came out and married Prince Alex Laskine, I
+prayed that God's sunshine might light on my darling's head. Then, I
+myself married, and travelled with my husband in all kinds of strange,
+out-of-the-way places; in one of which he died, and I came back to St.
+Petersburgh, a childless, lonely widow!
+
+"But there was no Irene; her husband had been implicated in a plot, and
+had been sent to O----, one of the most desolate places in Siberia, and
+my sister had voluntarily accompanied him!
+
+"When I heard this, I never rested until I too was en route to Siberia!
+I wanted to take Irene in my arms and to console her as her dead mother
+would have done. O---- was a fearful place, just a colony of dreary huts
+by the sea. Behind were the wolf-infested forests; in the midst of it,
+the frowning fortress prison! When I showed my ukase, and demanded to
+see my relations, they simply showed me two graves. Irene and Alex
+rested side by side, in the silent acre, and an exile told me _how_ they
+had died! Alex had been knouted for refusing to play the part of Judas,
+and had passed away in the fortress. Irene was found dead inside their
+small wooden hut, kneeling beside her bed. Her heart had broken! My
+little Snow Flower had been crushed under the iron heel of despotism.
+
+"He by whose mandate this iniquity was done was General Loris Trakoff,
+the governor of the province! I was turned to stone by Irene's grave,
+and afterwards became a partisan of the Nihilists.
+
+"Night and day I pondered upon how I could be revenged upon Trakoff, and
+at last Fate seemed to favour me.
+
+"The general (so it was reported) was coming to visit a former friend of
+his. I made up my mind to be there also, and to shoot him, if
+opportunity served.
+
+"So, two members of our society, a young mechanic and his wife, rented a
+house in Cherry-Tree Avenue, to which I came, and whilst waiting for my
+revenge I became acquainted with you."
+
+She paused, whispered, "The restorative," and I gave her the medicine.
+
+The sweet, faint voice spoke again.
+
+"I knew that you were Irene's friend because I saw your name upon the
+letter that I picked up, and I loved you, Gloria, aye, and was sorry for
+you."
+
+I laid my cheek next hers.
+
+"Dear, I knew it, and was fond of you."
+
+"Fond of the Nihilist Princess, my little English Gloria! 'Tis a strange
+world!
+
+"After all, the general did not come, and then we all left. I bided my
+time. No outsider knew me for a _Revolutionnaire_, so I mixed in society
+as before, and accepted the invitation to Whichello, on purpose to meet
+him here.
+
+"The bonbonniere was filled with poisoned caramels, prepared by a
+Nihilist chemist, and it was my intention to destroy myself after I had
+destroyed my enemy. I gave him one chance; I asked him if he repented of
+anything, and he answered 'No.'
+
+"At the great crisis your little hand, as a hand from another world--as
+Irene's hand might have done--came between us.
+
+"Your coming saved him. I could not let you share his fate."
+
+"Oh, thank God!" I said. "Nadine, tell me--tell God, that you are sorry,
+that you repent your dreadful purpose."
+
+"I do, I do," she whispered. "Lying here I see all the sins, the errors,
+the mistakes. I do not despair of God's mercy though I am myself
+deserving of His wrath. Irene used to tell me that when she fell asleep,
+in the new world of school life, it was in your arms. Put them round me,
+Gloria, and let me fall asleep."
+
+I placed my arm gently, very gently, under her head, and then sat very
+still.
+
+I heard the big clock in the clock-tower slowly and distinctly strike
+the hour of twelve, I saw the pale lips move and heard them murmur:
+"Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere mei."
+
+But save for this, all was silence! And in the silence Princess Nadine
+slept.
+
+
+
+
+MY YEAR AT SCHOOL.
+
+BY MARGARET WATSON.
+
+
+I was rather old to start out as a school-girl, for I was seventeen, and
+had never been to school before.
+
+We lived in the heart of the country, and my education had been rather
+casual--broken into now for a day's work, and now for a day's play, now
+for visitors staying in the house, now for a visit to friends or
+relations; as is the way when you are one of a large family, and do your
+lessons at home--especially if your tastes lie rather in the line of
+doing than thinking.
+
+I did not love books. I loved gardening and riding the pony, and making
+cakes, and minding the baby. My sisters were much cleverer than I, and I
+had never believed it possible that I could excel in anything requiring
+study, so I satisfied myself with being rather clever with my hands.
+
+However, I didn't really mind work of any kind, and I worked at my
+lessons when I _was_ at them, though I was always ready enough to throw
+them aside for anything else that might turn up. When my mother said I
+must go away to a good school for a year I was quite willing. I always
+loved a change.
+
+The school chosen was a London High School, and I was to board with some
+people we knew. They had no connection with the school, so I was thrown
+pretty much on my own resources, and had to find my way about for
+myself.
+
+I had to go up first for the entrance exam., and I shall never forget my
+feelings that day. The headmistress had a sharp, quick manner, and I
+thought she set me down as very stupid for my age. I was put in a room
+with a lot of girls, mostly younger than myself, and given a set of
+exam. papers to do. The way the questions were put was new to me, I was
+nervous and worried, but I worked on doggedly with the courage of
+despair, certain that I was showing appalling ignorance for a girl of
+seventeen, and that I should be placed in a form with the babies.
+
+Two very pretty girls were working beside me. They had curly black hair,
+and bright complexions, and lovely dark eyes, and there was a fair girl,
+who wrote diligently all the time, and seemed in no difficulty. When it
+was over I asked her how she had got on, and she said she had found it
+quite easy, and answered most of the questions. We compared notes, and I
+saw that if she was right I must be wrong, and as she was quite sure she
+was right I went home very despondent indeed, but determined to work my
+way up from the bottom if need be.
+
+Next morning I hardened my heart for what was to befall me, and started
+for school. I had to go by omnibus, and found one that ran just at the
+right time.
+
+I was met at the school entrance by a tall, thin, small-featured lady,
+who wore glasses, and spoke in a sharp, clear voice, but quite kindly,
+telling me that I was in the Fifth Form, and my desk was that nearest
+the door.
+
+There was a good deal of crush and confusion as there were a lot of new
+girls, and I sat at my desk and wondered whether the Fifth Form was the
+highest or the lowest. I could hardly believe I was in the highest form,
+but the other girls sitting at the desks looked as old as myself. The
+two pretty dark girls were there, but I saw no sign of the fair girl who
+had worked so easily.
+
+I sat and watched for her, and presently she came in, but she was moved
+on to the form behind. She was in the Fourth Form, and I heard her
+name--Mabel Smith.
+
+I had a good report at the end of the first term, and went home
+happy--very happy to get home again, for I had never been so long away
+before, and I found my little brothers grown out of knowledge. But the
+Christmas holidays were soon over, and I went back in a cold, snowy
+week; and London snow is a miserable spectacle, not like the lovely pure
+white covering which hides up all dirt and ugliness in the country.
+
+However, I knew my way about by this time, and found my old familiar bus
+waiting for me, and the conductor greeted me with great friendliness. He
+was a most kind man, and always waited for me as long as he could.
+
+This term we had a new mistress for mathematics, and I didn't like her a
+bit.
+
+I was always very slow and stupid at mathematics, and the new mistress
+was so quick, she worked away like lightning, and I _could_ not follow
+her. She would rush through a proposition in Euclid, proving that some
+figure was, or was not equal to some other figure, and leave me stranded
+vainly trying to understand the first proof when she was at the last,
+and I _couldn't_ care, anyhow, whether one line could be proved equal to
+another or not, I felt it would be much simpler to measure it and have
+done with it. It was the same in arithmetic; she took us through
+innumerable step-fractions with innumerable steps, just as fast as she
+could put the figures down, and all I could do was to stare stupidly at
+the blackboard and hope that I might be able to worry some sense out of
+it all at home; and she gave us so much home-work that I had to toil
+till after ten at night, and then had to leave my sums half done, or
+neglect my other work altogether.
+
+I was slow and stupid, I knew, but the others all suffered too, though
+not so much, and presently complaints were made by all the other
+mistresses that their work was not done, and all the girls had the same
+reason to give, the arithmetic took so long.
+
+So Miss Vinton made out a time-table for our prep., and said we were to
+leave off when the time was up, whether we'd finished or not. It was a
+great relief, my hair was turning grey with the work and worry! But I
+did not get on at all with mathematics, and in the end of term exam. I
+came out very badly in that and in French.
+
+As most of us had done badly in those subjects our poor madame and the
+mathematical mistress did not come back next term.
+
+Miss Vinton gave us mathematics herself, and a splendid teacher she was,
+letting some daylight even into my thick head, which was not constructed
+for that kind of work, and her sister gave us French, and we really
+began to make progress. Some of the girls had done well before, those
+who sat near madame and talked to her, but most of us had not learnt
+much from her.
+
+Altogether it was with regret that I saw the end of my school-year
+drawing near; and I was very anxious to do well in the final exams.
+
+They were to be rather important, as we were to have a university
+examiner, and there were two prizes offered by people interested in the
+school, one for the best literature paper, and one for the best history.
+I _did_ want a prize to take home.
+
+There was great excitement in the school, and we all meant to try our
+best. The Fourth and Fifth Forms were to have the same papers, so as to
+give the Fourth Form girls a chance for the prize, and Mabel Smith said
+she was determined to win that offered for literature.
+
+The exam. week began. Geology, arithmetic, Latin, French, German. We
+worked through them all conscientiously but without much enthusiasm.
+Then came the literature, you could hear the girls hold their breaths as
+the papers were given to them.
+
+I read the questions down the first time, and my head spun round so that
+I could not understand one.
+
+"This won't do," I said to myself, and set my teeth and clung to my desk
+till I steadied down. Then I read them through again.
+
+I found one question I could answer right away, and by the time I had
+done that my brain was clear, and I knew the answers to every one.
+
+Alice Thompson was sitting next me, she was one of the pretty dark
+girls, and very idle.
+
+"What's the date of Paradise Lost?" she whispered.
+
+I didn't know what to do. I wouldn't speak, and of course I knew that it
+was very mean of her to ask, but I was sure of the date, and I thought
+it would be mean of me not to tell her. Just then Miss Vinton walked up
+the room and glanced round at us.
+
+Alice bent over her work, writing diligently. Miss Vinton went down the
+room again, and Alice edged up to me, questioning me with her pretty
+dark eyes.
+
+I hesitated, then I pushed the sheet I had just finished close to the
+edge of my desk so that she could read the date, which she did quickly
+enough. After that she looked over my papers freely whenever Miss Vinton
+wasn't looking.
+
+I was rather worried about it, but I didn't think she could win the
+prize, for I knew she hadn't worked at the subject at all, and if she
+didn't I thought it couldn't matter much to any one.
+
+I had answered all the questions a good while before the time was up, I
+thought we had been allowed too long, and was surprised to see Mabel
+Smith and one or two more scribbling away for dear life till the last
+minute. However, the time was up at last, and we all gave in our papers.
+
+"How did you get on, Margaret?" asked Miss Vinton, smiling kindly at me.
+
+"I think I answered all the questions right," I replied.
+
+"That's good," she said.
+
+The history paper was given us next day, and it filled me with despair.
+The questions were so put that short answers were no use, and I was
+afraid to trust myself to write down my own ideas. However, after a bit
+the ideas began to come, and I quite enjoyed scribbling them down.
+
+Alice had been moved to another desk, so I was left in peace, for
+Joyce, who was a friend of mine, was next to me, working away quietly.
+
+I was getting on swimmingly, when all at once the bell rang, and I had
+only answered three quarters of the questions.
+
+I _was_ vexed, for I could see one or two more I could have done.
+However, there was no help for it. The papers must be given up.
+
+"I wish I had had a little more time," I said to Miss Vinton, as I gave
+in my work.
+
+"You had as much as the rest," she answered, rather sharply, and I went
+away feeling sad and snubbed.
+
+The exams. were over, and we were to know the result next day.
+
+I don't think any of us wanted that extra half hour in bed in the
+morning, which generally seemed so desirable; and we were all waiting in
+the cloak-room--a chattering throng, for discipline was relaxed on this
+occasion. When the school-bell rang, and we hurried in to take our
+places, Miss Vinton made us a speech, saying that the general results of
+the examinations had been very satisfactory. Our term's work had been on
+the whole good.
+
+We could hardly listen to these general remarks when we were longing for
+particulars. At last they came:
+
+Alice Thompson was awarded the literature prize. Her work was so very
+accurate, and her paper so well written.
+
+There was a silence of astonishment.
+
+Alice turned scarlet. I felt horrified to think what mischief I had done
+by being so weak-minded as to let her copy my work. Mabel Smith was
+white. But Miss Vinton went on calmly:
+
+"Mabel Smith comes next. Her paper was exceptionally well written, but
+there were a few blunders which placed it below Alice's."
+
+Then came Nelly, Joyce, and the rest of the Fifth Form, and one or two
+of the Fourth--and I began to get over the shock of Alice's success and
+to wonder what had happened to me. At last my name came with just half
+marks.
+
+My cheeks were burning. I was dreadfully disappointed and ashamed. Miss
+Vinton saw what I was feeling and stopped to explain that the examiner
+had not wanted mere bald answers of dates and names, but well-written
+essays, showing thought and intelligence. This was how I had failed,
+while Alice, cribbing my facts, had worked them out well, and come out
+first. I felt very sore about it, and almost forgot the injustice done
+to Mabel Smith.
+
+There was still the history prize, and a hush of excited expectation
+fell on us when Miss Vinton began again:
+
+"The history prize has been awarded to Nelly Gascoyne for a very good
+paper indeed. Margaret and Joyce have been bracketed second. Their
+papers were excellent, and only just behind Nelly's in merit."
+
+I gasped with surprise. I had left so many questions unanswered that I
+had had no hope of distinction in history.
+
+This was some consolation for my former disgrace--and then my mind went
+back to the question of what was to be done about the literature prize.
+
+As soon as the business of the morning was concluded Mabel Smith touched
+my arm. She was still quite white, and her eyes were blazing.
+
+"I must speak to you," she said.
+
+"Come to the cloak-room," I answered, "we can get our books after."
+
+"You _know_ Alice Thompson cheated," she said, the moment we were alone.
+"I sat just behind, and I saw you push your papers over to her, and she
+leant over, and copied whatever she wanted."
+
+"I never dreamt she'd get the prize," I answered, "I only wanted to help
+her out of a hole."
+
+"Well, she _did_ get it--and it's my prize, and what are you going to do
+about it?"
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure. Of course I oughtn't to have let her copy--but
+I thought it wouldn't hurt any one."
+
+"You'll have to tell Miss Vinton now. It's not fair I should be cheated
+out of the prize I've honestly won, and I'd worked so hard for it too.
+I can't think how I came to make those mistakes."
+
+"I wish to peace you hadn't!"
+
+"But, anyhow, Alice could never have got it if she hadn't cheated, and
+you must tell Miss Vinton."
+
+"Oh! that's too much," I cried. "It's for Alice to tell Miss Vinton, I
+can't. I'm willing to tell Alice she must."
+
+"And if she won't?"
+
+"Then I don't quite see what's to be done."
+
+"You'll let her keep my prize?"
+
+"Well, you can tell Miss Vinton if you like."
+
+"It's you that ought to tell her. It was all your fault, you'd no right
+to help Alice to cheat."
+
+"I know that's true. But it makes it all the more impossible for me to
+tell on her."
+
+Just then Alice came in:
+
+"Oh, Margaret!" she cried.
+
+Then she saw Mabel and stopped.
+
+"Are you going to tell Miss Vinton you cheated?" said Mabel, going up to
+her with flaming eyes.
+
+"_Margaret_, did you tell?" said Alice.
+
+"I saw you!" said Mabel, "I sat just behind and saw you! You're not
+going to try to keep my prize, are you?"
+
+"No, of course not," said Alice, "I never thought of getting the prize.
+I only wanted to write a decent paper and not have Miss Vinton pitching
+into me as usual. You're welcome to the prize, if that will do."
+
+Mabel said nothing.
+
+"I'm afraid that won't quite do," I said. "It would be too difficult for
+Mabel to explain at home without telling on you. You'd much better tell
+on yourself."
+
+"I can't," said Alice, "I'm as sorry as I can be, now, that I did
+it--but I can't face Miss Vinton."
+
+She looked ready to cry.
+
+"Well, I shall have to confess too," I said. "It was partly my fault.
+Let us go together."
+
+"I daren't," said Alice.
+
+But I could see she was yielding.
+
+"Come along," I said, taking her arm. "It's the only way out. You know
+you won't keep Mabel's prize, and it's as bad to keep her honour and
+glory. This is the only way out. Let's get it over."
+
+She came then, but reluctantly.
+
+Fortunately we found Miss Vinton alone in her room, and between us we
+managed to stammer out our confession.
+
+Miss Vinton, I think, was not surprised. She had feared there was
+something not quite straight. But she was extremely severe with us both,
+as much with me as with Alice, and as it was to be my last interview
+with her I was heart-broken.
+
+However, I lingered a moment after Alice, and then turned back and said:
+
+"Please forgive me, you can't think how sorry I am."
+
+"Remember, Margaret," she replied, "that it is not enough to be
+honourable in your own conduct--you must as far as possible discourage
+anything dishonourable in other people. I know you would not cheat
+yourself, but if it is wrong to cheat, it is equally wrong to help some
+one else to cheat--don't you see? Will you remember this in future--in
+big things as well as in small? You must not only do right yourself.
+Your influence must be on the right side too. Certainly, I forgive you.
+You've been a good girl all this year, and I'm sorry to lose you."
+
+So I went away comforted.
+
+And I came home with never a prize to show. But I had what was better. I
+had acquired a real love of study which I have never lost. I don't know
+what became of Alice Thompson, I only hope that she never had to earn
+her living by teaching. Nelly Gascoyne went home to a jolly family of
+brothers and sisters and gave herself up to the pleasures and duties of
+home. Joyce became assistant mistress in a school, and Mabel followed up
+her successes at school by winning a scholarship at Cambridge a year
+later.
+
+And I--well, I've never come in first anywhere, but I'm fairly contented
+with a second place.
+
+
+
+
+THE SILVER STAR.
+
+BY NELLIE HOLDERNESS.
+
+
+Maysie Grey had set her heart on the Drawing Society's Silver Star. She
+kept her ambition to herself as a thing too audacious to be put into
+words. That she possessed talent, the school fully recognised. She was
+only thirteen, and by dint of steady perseverance was making almost
+daily progress. Her painting lessons were a source of unmixed pleasure
+to her, for hers was a nature that never yielded to discouragement, and
+never magnified difficulties.
+
+"You must aim at the Bronze Star this year," her science mistress had
+said to her, while helping her to fix the glass slides she was to paint
+from, under the microscope, "and next year you must go on to the
+Silver----"
+
+"Look, how beautiful the colours are!" Maysie exclaimed in delight. The
+delicate, varying tints fascinated her. She set to work with enthusiasm,
+never having done anything of the kind before. "'Mycetozoa,' do you call
+them?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. Be sure you spell it rightly."
+
+The next day, when the first of her three sheets was finished, Miss
+Elton came in to examine it. Though she said little, she was evidently
+more than satisfied. It was nearly tea-time, and Maysie spent the few
+minutes before preparation was over in tearing up some old drawings.
+After breakfast, on the following morning, before the bell rang for
+class, she went over to Ruth Allen's desk to ask her how to spell
+"Mycetozoa." Ruth was her particular chum, and the best English scholar
+in the form.
+
+"I've got something to show you, Maysie," she said, when she had
+furnished the desired information. She brought out a piece of paper as
+she spoke, and passed it on to her friend behind the cover of her open
+desk. It was a fragment of one of Maysie's zoological drawing-sheets,
+evidently picked up out of the waste-paper basket--a wasp with wings
+outspread, showing the three divisions of an insect's body. The head was
+roughly altered so as to form a caricature of a human face, and above
+was printed, in letters that might have done credit to Maysie herself:
+"Miss E. in a tantrum," and below: "How doth the little waxy wasp
+rejoice to snap and snarl!"
+
+Maysie did not share Ruth's unreasonable animosity towards Miss Elton,
+but she could not repress a smile at this specimen of school-girl wit.
+Just then the bell rang, and she went back to her own desk, while Ruth,
+letting the lid of hers slip down, was so startled by the noise it made
+in the sudden silence that she did not see a piece of paper flutter out
+on to the ground, and gently glide underneath the platform of the
+mistress's desk, which was just in front of her.
+
+That morning Maysie began her second sheet, and joined the others in the
+garden after dinner. Molly Brooks, another of her friends, came eagerly
+running up to her.
+
+"Why didn't you come to botany?" she asked.
+
+"I've been doing my exhibition work."
+
+"Oh, of course! I suppose it's nearly finished?"
+
+"About half. It hasn't to be sent off till next week, so there's plenty
+of time."
+
+At that moment Ruth Allen linked her arm in Maysie's.
+
+"I'm in my third row," she began casually.
+
+"What, already?" asked Maysie.
+
+"Yes, haven't you heard?" Molly chimed in.
+
+"Oh, it's Miss Elton again!" went on Ruth. "We never can hit it off. You
+weren't at botany class this morning."
+
+"No, what happened?"
+
+Ruth shrugged her shoulders. Molly looked expressively at Maysie. Ruth
+seldom got through a botany class without an explosion.
+
+"I hate botany," said Ruth recklessly, "and I hate Miss Elton. I'm
+supposed to be in silence now, but as Miss Bennet came in and told us
+all to go out, I thought I'd better not risk another disobedience mark."
+
+Miss Elton, who had been stooping down over some flower-beds, in search
+of museum treasures, came up at this point. Her face was grave and
+white, and her manner very stern and quiet.
+
+"What are you doing out here, Ruth?" she demanded.
+
+"Miss Bennet sent us all out; she said it was such a lovely day,"
+answered Ruth carelessly.
+
+"Then you can go and explain to Miss Bennet why I told you to remain in
+this afternoon."
+
+Ruth looked at Miss Elton, and then looked away; she slowly withdrew her
+arm from Maysie's, and walked off without a word. At the door she came
+face to face with Miss Bennet, the headmistress.
+
+"Where are you going to, Ruth?" asked the latter.
+
+"Miss Elton sent me in."
+
+"Why?" There was grave rebuke in Miss Bennet's voice.
+
+"Because I'm in silence."
+
+"I do not understand why you were out at all."
+
+Ruth made no attempt to defend herself.
+
+"You'd better come to my room," continued Miss Bennet. "There is
+something here that needs explaining.... Now, what were you in silence
+for?" she continued, seating herself in her chair by the fire.
+
+"I got sent out of botany class."
+
+"And how many times have you been sent out of botany class?"
+
+Ruth did not answer.
+
+"Well, it has come to this, Ruth," Miss Bennet went on gravely, "that a
+girl of your age--you are fourteen now, I believe--can no longer be
+allowed to go on setting an example of insolence and disobedience to the
+younger girls in the school. Now, remember, this is the last time. Let
+me have no more complaints about you, or it will be my unpleasant duty
+to write to your mother, and tell her that you cannot remain here."
+
+There was a pause. The colour had left Ruth's face, and she was staring
+moodily into the fire.
+
+"You will apologise to Miss Elton," added Miss Bennet, rising, "and you
+will remain in silence at meals for the rest of the week. And try to
+make an effort over your botany. Your other work is good: you were top
+last week. Now, promise me that you will make an effort."
+
+Ruth, moved to penitence at the thought of her mother, promised to do
+her best. That afternoon she apologised to Miss Elton, and made a
+resolution to keep out of rows for the rest of the term. Maysie and she
+walked about in the garden as usual, and talked things over. Maysie
+looked grave when Ruth told her what Miss Bennet had said about sending
+her away.
+
+"Oh, Ruth!" she said, "you really must be careful! Why, if you got
+expelled, it would be almost as bad for me as if I were expelled myself.
+Miss Elton's awfully nice, if you only knew. I had such a lovely talk
+with her on Sunday, all about home, and drawing. And then she's so jolly
+at games, and she's never cross when you don't cheek her. And think how
+horrid it must be for her whenever she comes to botany class, always
+knowing that you're going to be dense! And you do do it on purpose
+sometimes, dear, you know you do."
+
+Ruth forced a laugh.
+
+"Oh, I'm going to be awfully good," she said. "You'll see!"
+
+It was Saturday the next day, and Maysie was just settling down to her
+drawing in the music-room, when Miss Elton appeared. Maysie looked up
+and smiled at her. It was no unusual thing for her science-mistress to
+come in and remark on her progress. But on this occasion no answering
+smile greeted her. Maysie was puzzled. Her inquiring grey eyes fell
+before Miss Elton's; she began to search her conscience. What had she
+done?
+
+"I think it is a pity, Maysie," began Miss Elton, "that you put your
+talents to such an improfitable use."
+
+As she spoke she laid before Maysie the paper that Ruth had exhibited to
+her in such triumph the day before. Maysie grew scarlet, and remained
+quite speechless. Her name up in the corner, the neat, even printing, so
+like her own, the altered diagram that Miss Elton had seen in its
+original form--they stared her in the face, condemning her beyond hope
+of appeal. She raised her head proudly, and tossed back the thick curly
+hair that hung over her shoulder.
+
+"Where did it come from?" she asked.
+
+"I picked it up from under the edge of my platform, but that is of no
+concern."
+
+"But, Miss Elton----" stammered Maysie, growing suddenly confused.
+
+"You have no excuse," put in Miss Elton, and her voice was all the
+harder because of the disappointment that she felt. "This is a piece of
+your paper, is it not?"
+
+Maysie admitted that it was.
+
+"And your diagram?"
+
+"Yes; at least----"
+
+"Is it, or is it not?"
+
+Maysie's voice was very low.
+
+"Yes, it is," she said.
+
+Silence ensued, a brief, awkward silence. It was at this moment that
+Maysie made up her mind. She would not clear herself at the expense of
+her chum! Ruth should not be expelled through her!
+
+Miss Elton believed _her_ guilty; she would not undeceive her.
+
+Miss Elton waited with her eyes on Maysie's paintings.
+
+They were done as no other girl in the school would have done them, but
+the thought afforded her no satisfaction, though she had always
+prophesied great things of Maysie. Then she glanced at the child's
+downcast face.
+
+"I am sorry about this, Maysie," she said, with the faintest suspicion
+of reproach in her voice, "I thought we were better friends."
+
+A lump came into Maysie's throat, and the tears into her eyes. She
+looked at the microscope, at the tiny glass slides, at her unfinished
+sheet; but she had nothing to say.
+
+"Of course," continued Miss Elton, "I shall have to show it to Miss
+Bennet. This comes, no doubt, of your friendship with Ruth. I have
+always said that she would do you no good."
+
+Maysie listened with a swelling heart. Supposing Ruth should be sent
+for, and hear the whole story? Miss Elton was at the door; she ran up to
+her in desperation.
+
+"Miss Elton," she faltered, "don't say anything to the girls, will you?"
+
+Miss Elton made no promise. The petition made her think no better of
+Maysie.
+
+The Fourth Form girls soon discovered that Maysie was in trouble, but no
+one could get anything out of her. Ruth was forbidden to join her in
+recreation, but on Sunday evening she managed to get a few minutes' talk
+with her.
+
+"Do tell me what the row's about, Maysie," she said.
+
+"Oh, nothing much," said Maysie. "Do let's talk about something else."
+
+"But I always thought you liked Miss Elton?"
+
+"So I do. Can't you get into a row with a mistress you like?"
+
+"Well, I'd apologise, if I were you. She was very nice to me."
+
+"I can't, so it's no good." And Maysie sat silent, confronting this new
+difficulty with a sinking heart. For how could she apologise, she asked
+herself, for what she had never done?
+
+"Well, I think you might tell me," Ruth went on. "_I_ told you about my
+row; and what's the good of being chums if we can't keep each other's
+secrets?"
+
+But Maysie only sighed impatiently, and took up her library book.
+
+"I wish you'd hurry up and finish those paintings of yours, and come
+back properly to class," went on Ruth. "Aren't they nearly done?"
+
+Maysie grew white, and turned away her face.
+
+"I'm not going to try this year," she said.
+
+"Why, I thought----" began Ruth. "Oh, I see! What a shame!"
+
+Maysie choked down a sob. After a pause she said:
+
+"Perhaps I shall have more chance of a Star next year."
+
+"You'd have got one this!" said Ruth indignantly. "How mean to punish
+you like that! And it's the only thing you care about!"
+
+Maysie smiled. "Oh, never mind, dear," she said. "Everything seems mean
+to us. You don't understand."
+
+"But if you apologised it would be all right?"
+
+"I daresay it might, but I don't think so. Besides, they've got to be
+sent in by Wednesday, and I should hardly have time to do another
+sheet."
+
+Things went on like this until Monday evening. Though there was only one
+day left, Maysie made no attempt to apologise. Miss Elton gave her every
+opportunity, for she, too, hoped that Miss Bennet might thus be induced
+to allow Maysie to finish her exhibition work, even at the last moment.
+
+Maysie went to bed early that night. Her head had been aching all day,
+and by the time tea was over she could hardly hold it up. Ruth was
+greatly concerned about her, and, as a last resource, determined to
+speak to Miss Bennet.
+
+Maysie soon got into bed, and, being alone in the dormitory, hid her
+face under the bed-clothes and sobbed. She was terribly homesick, poor
+child, and now, for the first time, she began to doubt whether she had
+done right after all; whether it would not have been wiser to have taken
+Miss Bennet into her confidence, and trusted to her to set things right.
+And then, there was that Silver Star! And a year was such a long time to
+have to wait. But, thinking of Ruth, she grew ashamed of herself, and
+dried her tears, and tried to go to sleep, though it was still quite
+light out of doors.
+
+Ruth, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor in front of Miss Bennet's
+fire.
+
+"It's about Maysie, Miss Bennet," she was saying. "I don't understand
+what she has done, but I'm sure there must be some reason for her not
+apologising."
+
+Miss Bennet made no remark.
+
+"She's so fond of Miss Elton, too. I don't see how she could have meant
+to be rude to her."
+
+"I'm afraid there is not much doubt about that," was the answer.
+
+"It seems to me," went on Ruth nervously, "that there's some mystery
+about it. Maysie won't tell me anything."
+
+"Maysie has no reason to be proud of herself," replied Miss Bennet
+coldly.
+
+"It seems so horrid her not going in for the exhibition, and she's so
+good at painting."
+
+"There are various ways of making use of one's talents," said Miss
+Bennet, rising. "Now this----"
+
+Ruth jumped to her feet, and stood gazing. There, on Miss Bennet's
+writing-table, lay the identical scrap of paper that she had shown to
+Maysie the Friday before. "Miss E. in a tantrum!" There, too, was
+Maysie's name in the corner. In a moment everything was clear.
+
+"That!" she exclaimed. "Maysie didn't do that!"
+
+Miss Bennet looked at her doubtfully.
+
+"I did it!" she went on. "Oh, if I'd only known! Why didn't some one
+tell me about it?"
+
+"My dear child," began Miss Bennet.
+
+"Yes, I did it!" repeated Ruth passionately. "It's Maysie's drawing, but
+I altered it, I made up the words. Poor little Maysie! And she was so
+keen on trying for the exhibition! It's so horribly unfair, when I did
+it all the time!" She broke off with a sob, hardly knowing what she was
+saying.
+
+"But why----"
+
+"I didn't know, and of course she wouldn't sneak about me--catch Maysie
+sneaking! I told her I should be expelled if I got into another row."
+
+Miss Bennet tried to calm her.
+
+"Come, dear child," she said gravely; "if Maysie has been punished for
+your fault, we must do our best to set things right at once. Tell me how
+it happened."
+
+Ruth explained as well as she could.
+
+"And now Maysie's gone to bed," she added regretfully.
+
+"Then I will go up to her. You can go back to your class-room."
+
+Miss Bennet found Maysie asleep, with flushed cheeks, and eyelashes
+still wet with tears. She stooped down, and kissed her gently. Maysie
+opened her eyes with a sigh, and then sat up in bed. It had seemed
+almost as if her mother were bending over her. "I am going to scold you,
+Maysie," said Miss Bennet, but her smile belied her words.
+
+Maysie smiled faintly in answer.
+
+"Why have you allowed us to do you an injustice?"
+
+The child was overwrought, and a sudden dread seized hold of her.
+
+"Why--what do you mean, Miss Bennet?" she faltered.
+
+"Ruth has explained everything to me. It is a great pity this mistake
+should have been made----"
+
+Maysie interrupted her.
+
+"It was before she got sent out of class, Miss Bennet," she said. "Oh!
+don't be angry with her! Don't send her away, will you?"
+
+In her earnestness she laid her hand on Miss Bennet's arm. Miss Bennet
+drew her to her, and kissed her again.
+
+"Poor child!" she said. "So that's what you've been worrying your little
+head about. No, I won't send her away, Miss Elton tells me that she has
+improved already, and I am sure she will forgive her when she knows
+everything."
+
+Maysie thanked her with tears in her eyes.
+
+"And now, I have one other thing to say," Miss Bennet continued. "You
+must go to sleep at once, and wake up quite fresh and bright to-morrow
+morning, and you shall give up the whole day to your painting. What do
+you say to that?"
+
+"How lovely!" exclaimed Maysie. "I shall get it done after all! Thank
+you very, very much, Miss Bennet. Oh, I am so happy!" And she put her
+arms round Miss Bennet's neck, and gave her an enthusiastic hug.
+
+Maysie worked hard at her "Mycetozoa" the next day, and finished her
+third sheet with complete success. Some weeks afterwards, Miss Bennet
+sent for her to her room.
+
+"I am glad to be able to tell you, Maysie," she said, "that you have
+gained the Drawing Society's Silver Star."
+
+Maysie drew a long breath; her heart was too full for words. The
+_Silver_ Star! Could it be true?
+
+Ruth was one of the first to congratulate her.
+
+"I always said you'd get it, dear," she remarked as they walked round
+the garden together. "And I'm just as glad as you are about it. I
+haven't forgotten that it was through me you nearly lost the chance!"
+
+Maysie returned the pressure of Ruth's hand without answering. Was not
+the Silver Star the more to be prized for its association in thought
+with those hours of lonely perplexity that she had gone through for the
+sake of her friend?
+
+
+
+
+UNCLE TONE.
+
+BY KATE GODKIN.
+
+
+"Mother darling! Is Uncle Tone really coming to see us at last? I heard
+you tell father something about it," I said to my mother as she sat by
+my couch, to which I had been tied for some weeks in consequence of a
+cycling accident.
+
+I had broken my leg, but had now so far recovered as to be able to move
+cautiously with a stick. It was the first illness that I could remember,
+and I was an only child, much loved, and I suppose much spoiled by the
+most indulgent of fathers and mothers. I therefore made the most of my
+opportunities and called freely on their resources for entertainment.
+
+"Yes, love, I am happy to say he is. He has not been here now since you
+were quite a little girl, eight years ago. You were just eight."
+
+"Mother," I continued coaxingly, for I loved a story, "why are you so
+fond of him, he is only your step-brother?"
+
+"Step-brother!" she exclaimed. "He has been more than a brother to me.
+He has been a father, far far more," she added sadly, "than my own
+father was. He is, you know, nearly twenty years older than I."
+
+"Will you tell me something about it?" I asked softly.
+
+It was twilight in July, and I lay at the open French window which led
+from the drawing-room to the lawn, and from which we had a view across
+the park, far out over the country, bounded by the twinkling lights of
+Southampton in the distance, for our house was situated on an elevation
+in one of the loveliest spots in the New Forest. Dinner was over and
+father was in the library clearing off some pressing work, as he had to
+leave home for a day or two. It seemed to me the very time for
+reminiscences.
+
+"I think I will," said my mother slowly and thoughtfully.
+
+She was a small, graceful woman, of about forty then, whose soft, dark
+hair was just beginning to be touched with grey, but her face was as
+fresh and dainty-looking as a girl's; a strong, sweet face that I loved
+to look at, and that now, that she is no longer with me, I love to
+remember.
+
+"You ought to know what he did for your mother, and how much you owe him
+indirectly. I should like him, too, to feel that he has his reward in
+you."
+
+My curiosity was excited, for I had never heard my mother speak like
+that before, and so I settled myself to listen, and to enjoy what she
+had to say.
+
+"My childhood was a very wretched one, Cora," she began. "For that
+reason I have spoken little of it to you, but endeavoured, assisted by
+your father, to make yours the very opposite to it as far as lay in my
+power, and that I could do so is due, I may say wholly, to your Uncle
+Tone, who taught me to be happy myself, and to endeavour to make others
+so."
+
+I slipped my hand into my dear mother's; she was the best, most loving,
+and wisest mother that ever lived.
+
+"My mother died when I was born," she continued, "and my father took his
+loss so to heart that he shut himself off from all society, grew silent
+and morose, and," she added after some hesitation, "became in time a
+drunkard."
+
+She brought these words out with such an effort, such difficulty, that
+the tears came to my eyes, and I whispered, "Don't go on, mother
+darling, if it hurts you." She continued, however, without appearing to
+notice my interruption.
+
+"I ran wild till I was twelve or thirteen years of age, I had no society
+but my father's and the servants', and I got no regular education. He
+would not send me to school, but the vicar's daughter came over for an
+hour or two every day to teach me what I could be induced to learn,
+which was little enough. I was hot-tempered, headstrong, self-willed,
+accustomed to fight for what I wanted, getting nothing by any other
+means, and doing without what I could not get in that way. No softening,
+no refining influence came into my life. My one pleasure even then was
+music. I had a passion for it. Miss Vincent, the vicar's daughter,
+taught me to play the piano, and I used to spend hours in the deserted
+drawing-room, playing what I knew, and picking out tunes by myself,
+while my father was shut up in his study. We had no near relation, no
+one who cared enough to take pity on an unruly, troublesome, little
+girl, with a drunken father. When I was between twelve and thirteen he
+died, and a godmother who lived in Scotland took charge of me, and sent
+me to a boarding-school, at which I spent the next four years. Schools
+were not then what they are now, particularly in Scotland, and between
+the time spent there and the holidays with Miss Clark, who was a stern,
+old maid and a confirmed invalid, my life was very dreary; I was
+becoming harder, and harder. I did not know in fact that I had any
+feelings; they were not cultivated amongst the people who had to do with
+me. She, also, died before I was seventeen, and then something happened
+which was to change my whole life. My step-brother, whom I had never
+seen, wrote to Miss McDougall, with whom I was at school, saying that my
+home would, henceforth, be with him. Your Uncle Tone was my father's son
+by his first marriage, and when his father married my mother, Tone went
+to live with his maternal grandfather, who, on his death, left him the
+beautiful place in Derbyshire to which I was to go. He lived there with
+an old aunt. This news affected me very little; I had never had a happy
+home, a real home; I did not know what that was, but I presumed I should
+go somewhere on leaving school.
+
+"My love of music had, in the meantime, increased. I had had a very good
+master, a real musician, and I had worked hard for him. To me it was a
+delight, but I never thought nor cared that it could give pleasure to
+any one else. I used to shut myself up for hours in the holidays, out of
+hearing of my godmother, who seldom left her room, and play, and play,
+till my arms ached.
+
+"I remember well the day he came for me. I was ready, waiting, when the
+maid brought me the message that Sir Tone Wolsten was in the
+drawing-room. He was standing on the hearth-rug talking to Miss
+McDougall, and looked so tall to me. He is over six feet. I can see him
+now as he stood there, erect, broad-shouldered, with bright chestnut
+hair, clear, keen, dark blue eyes, and bronzed skin, a strong, kind,
+fearless face. He looked a thorough man, one to be trusted. He greeted
+me very kindly as his little sister, and took me home with him. Goldmead
+Park was the loveliest place I had ever seen. His Aunt Evangeline, whom
+I also called 'aunt,' was a frail, querulous old lady, whom he treated
+as his mother. He did not marry till after her death, five years later.
+I was planted in entirely new surroundings, with everything pleasant
+about me, everything that I could desire, or ought to have desired. Your
+uncle was kindness itself. He taught me to ride and to drive, supplied
+me with books, took the greatest interest in me; but the restrictions of
+every well-ordered home which would have been nothing to a properly
+trained girl were unendurable to me. I resisted from sheer perverseness
+and dislike of control. I do not mean to say that I was always
+ill-tempered; I was lively and merry enough, and your uncle used to
+tease me, and jest with me, which I enjoyed very much, and responded to
+willingly.
+
+"Some weeks had passed like this, my step-brother being most kind and
+indulgent. Frequently Aunt Evangeline had asked me to play to them in
+the evening after dinner, but I had refused obstinately. I liked to play
+to myself, but I had never been accustomed to do so before any one, and
+it never entered my head that it could give them pleasure, or that I was
+bound to do it out of politeness. At last she became more irritable and
+frequently made sarcastic remarks about the young people of the present
+day. This happened again one evening, and I answered sharply, not to say
+rudely.
+
+"The next morning I wandered through the woods belonging to the park,
+gathering violets, and had sat down, hot and tired, under a lovely
+chestnut, with my lap full of flowers which I was arranging and tying up
+in bunches in order to carry them home more easily. I heard footsteps,
+which I recognised by their briskness and firmness, and looking up I saw
+my brother approach, walking, as usual, erect, with his head well thrown
+back but with stern lines in his face which I had not seen there before.
+I looked up smiling, expecting his usual kind greeting, but instead of
+that he strode straight up and stopped in front of me.
+
+"'I was just thinking of you, Elfie,' he said, looking down at me, 'I
+have something to say to you which I can as well say here as any place
+else. I don't know why you should be so unamiable and discourteous to my
+aunt, as you are, and I cannot allow it to continue. I will say nothing
+of your manner to me. You receive here nothing but kindness. My great
+desire is to make you happy, but it does not seem as if I succeeded very
+well. At any rate, Aunt Evangeline must not be made uncomfortable, and I
+should be doing you a wrong if I allowed you to behave so rudely.'
+
+"'Why can't she leave me alone?' I exclaimed angrily, 'I don't want to
+play to her.'
+
+"'One does not leave little girls alone,' he answered calmly and
+sternly, 'and such behaviour from a young girl to an old lady is most
+unbecoming. It must come to an end, and the sooner the better!
+To-night,' he continued in a tone that made me look up at him, 'you will
+apologise to my aunt and _offer_ to play.'
+
+"'I shall do nothing of the sort!' I exclaimed, turning crimson.
+
+"'Oh yes, you will,' he answered quietly, 'I am accustomed to be obeyed,
+and I don't think my little sister will defy me.'
+
+"And with that he strode away, leaving me in a perfect turmoil of angry
+feelings. I jumped up, scattering my lapful of violets, and started to
+walk in the opposite direction. At lunch we met, he ignored me
+completely, but I did not care, I felt hard and defiant.
+
+"After dinner, he conducted Aunt Evangeline to the drawing-room as
+usual, and as soon as she was seated he turned and looked at me, and
+waited. I made no move, though I felt my courage, which had never before
+forsaken me, ebb very low. He waited a few moments, and then said in a
+tone, which in spite of all my efforts I could not resist:
+
+"'Now, Elfie!'
+
+"I rose slowly, with his eyes fixed on me all the time, crossed the room
+to Aunt Evangeline, and stopped in front of her. 'I am sorry, Aunt
+Evangeline, that I have been so rude to you,' I said in a low, trembling
+voice. 'If you wish, I will play to you now.'
+
+"I felt as if it were not I myself, but some one outside me that was
+moving and speaking for me. I wished not to do it, but I was compelled
+by my brother's force of will, as much as if I had been hypnotised.
+
+"'Do, dear, do!' the old lady exclaimed kindly and eagerly. 'I am so
+fond of music, we both are, and we rarely have any one here who can
+play.'
+
+"I chose a piece in which I could give vent to the stormy feelings
+raging within me. When I had finished I rose from the piano.
+
+"'Thank you, dear,' she exclaimed. 'That was a treat!'
+
+"'Such a treat,' remarked my brother, 'that it is hard to understand the
+discourtesy and want of amiability that have deprived us of it so long.
+Play something else, Elfie!' This was said quietly, but I was as
+powerless to resist as if it were the sternest command.
+
+"So I played three or four more pieces at his request, and then getting
+up, took my work and sat down in silence at some distance from them,
+while they 'talked music' In about half an hour he turned to me again
+and asked me to play a particular piece which they had been discussing.
+'Perhaps she is tired,' suggested Aunt Evangeline kindly.
+
+"'It does not tire her to play for hours by herself,' was the quiet
+rejoinder.
+
+"I went to the piano in a mutinous, half desperate mood, thinking I
+would go on till they were sick of it, so I played on and on. Presently
+I forgot them, got lost in my music, and as usual my angry feelings died
+away. I had no idea how long I had been playing when I became conscious
+of a feeling of emotion I had never experienced before. I felt my heart
+swell and my face flush, and with a sudden sob I burst into tears. I was
+more startled than they were, for I had never, as far as I could
+remember, shed a tear except with anger, and this was certainly not
+anger. I started up and was about to leave the room hastily, when Tone
+said in the same calm tone:
+
+"Stay here, Elfie, you have no need to be ashamed of those tears.'
+
+"At home I should have rushed from the room, banging the door after me:
+I could give myself no account of my reason for going and sitting down
+quietly instead; I did so, nevertheless, though I could not suppress my
+sobs for some time. At last I became, outwardly at least, calm.
+
+"Aunt Evangeline always retired to her room about nine o'clock, and at
+first I did the same, but then my brother detained me for a game of
+chess which he taught me to play, and to talk about some books that he
+had given me to read, so that we usually sat together till ten o'clock.
+That night, however, I had no mind to sit alone with him for an hour, so
+I turned to say good-night as aunt was leaving the room. He held the
+door open for her, bade her 'good-night,' and then closed it as
+deliberately as if he had not seen my outstretched hand. He then turned
+to me, and took it, cold and trembling as it was, in his own firm, warm
+grasp, but with no intention of letting me go. Holding it, he looked
+searchingly, but with a kind smile, into my face.
+
+"'Is this revenge or punishment, Elfie?' he asked.
+
+"'I don't know what you mean,' I exclaimed in confusion.
+
+"'My game of chess?'
+
+"'You won't want to play with me to-night, and I can't play either,' I
+said, pressing my disengaged hand to my hot forehead. 'My stupidity
+would try your patience more than ever.'
+
+"'You must not say that,' he replied quietly, 'you are not stupid, and
+as I have never felt the slightest shade of impatience, I cannot have
+shown any. You play quite well enough to give me a very good game, but I
+daresay you cannot to-night. One wants a cool, clear head for chess. Let
+us talk instead.' So saying he led me to the chair aunt had just left,
+put me in it, and drew his own chair nearer.
+
+"'I don't want you to go to your room feeling lonely and upset,' he
+said, 'I should like to see your peace of mind restored first. I should
+like you to feel some satisfaction from the victory you have won over
+your self-will to-night.'
+
+"'The victory, such as it is, is yours!' I blurted out, looking away.
+
+"'You say that,' he replied very gently, 'as if you thought it a poor
+thing for a man to bully a young girl. Don't forget, Elfie, that I am
+nearly old enough to be your father, that, in fact, I stand in that
+position to you--I am your only relative and protector--that _I_ am
+right and _you_ are wrong, and above all that it is for your own sake
+that I do it. Poor child! you have had far too little home life and home
+influence. I want you to be happy here, but the greatest source of
+happiness lies in ourselves. What Milton says is very true, "The mind is
+its own place, and in itself can make a hell of heaven, a heaven of
+hell." You cannot be happy and make those around you happy, as long as
+you are the slave of your will. A strong will is one of the most
+valuable gifts we can have, but it must be our servant, not our master,
+or it will prove a curse instead of a blessing. It must be under our
+control, or it will force us to do things of which our good sense, good
+feeling, and our consciences all disapprove. We must be able to use it
+_against_ ourselves if need be. You are nearly grown up, Elfie, and
+still such an undisciplined child! What you will not learn with me and
+let me teach you in the next two or three years, the world will teach
+you very harshly later. We none of us can go through life, least of all
+a woman, doing what we like, knocking against every one as we go along.
+We get very hard knocks back, and they hurt. We miss, too, the best
+happiness that life can give. It contains none to equal that of making
+other people happy. As we treat them, they treat us.
+
+"'It is not in the least your fault, little one,' he added very kindly,
+'you have had no chance of being different. You have, I am afraid,
+received very little kindness, but help me to change all this. Don't
+think for a moment that I want to subdue your will to mine, that I want
+forced obedience to my wishes--that is the last thing I desire. I want
+to place _your_ will under _your_ control. I forced you to do to-night
+what I wanted, to make a beginning, to show you it was possible, to let
+you feel the pleasure of being agreeable, to stir some gentler, softer
+feelings in you. They came, much to your surprise, though not to mine.
+We all have them, and it is not good to crush them.'
+
+"While he was talking, a strange, subdued feeling came over me, such as
+I had never known before. He spoke gently and impressively, in a deep,
+soft tone peculiar to him when very much in earnest. I felt I wanted to
+be what he wished me to be, to do what he wanted, and this sensation was
+so new to me, that I could not at all understand it. I felt impelled to
+tell him, but I was ashamed. I had never in my life been sorry for
+anything I had done, still less acknowledged a fault. It was a new and
+strange experience, I felt like a dumb animal as I raised my eyes
+piteously to his.
+
+"'What is it, little one? You want to say something, surely you are not
+afraid?' he asked gently.
+
+"'Forgive me, Tone,' I gasped, as two big tears rolled down my cheeks,
+'I am sorry.'
+
+"'I am glad to hear you say you are sorry,' he said, taking my hand,
+'but between us there is no question of forgiveness. I have nothing to
+pardon, I am not angry, I want to help you.'
+
+"'I never felt like this before,' I muttered, 'I don't understand it,
+but I will try to do what you want.'
+
+"'You feel like this, Elfie, because you know that I am right, and that
+I only want what is good for you. I want you to be happy, to open your
+heart to the kindness we wish to show you, and to encourage feelings of
+kindness in yourself towards other people. When you feel hard, and
+cross, and disobliging, try to remember what I have been saying, and let
+me help. Even if I have to appear stern sometimes, don't misunderstand
+it.'
+
+"He then talked about my mother, my home, told me something of my father
+as _he_ had known him, until he actually succeeded in making me feel
+peaceful and happy.
+
+"From that day he never for a moment lost sight of the object he had in
+view. He had me with him as much as possible, for long walks, rides and
+drives. With infinite patience but unvarying firmness, he helped me
+along, recognising every effort I made, appreciating my difficulties,
+never putting an unnecessary restriction on me. So he moulded and formed
+my character, lavishing kindness and affection on me in which, I must
+say, Aunt Evangeline was not far behind, awakening all that was best and
+noblest in my nature, never allowing simple submission of my will to
+his.
+
+"On my wedding-day, as we were bidding each other 'Good-bye!' he said:
+
+"'You will be happy now, little sister, I know it. You have striven
+nobly and will have your reward.'
+
+"'The reward should be yours, Tone, not mine,' I answered, as I put my
+arms round his neck and kissed him.
+
+"Do you wonder now, Cora, that I love him so dearly, though he is my
+step-brother?" my mother asked as she concluded, "and that I should like
+him to see that I have endeavoured to do for you what he did for me?"
+
+
+
+
+A NIGHT ON THE ROAD.
+
+BY MARGARET WATSON.
+
+
+The summer holidays had begun, and I was to travel home alone from
+Paddington to Upperton.
+
+I was quite old enough to travel alone, for I was fourteen, but it so
+happened that I had never taken this journey by myself before. There was
+only one change, and at Upperton the pony-cart would be waiting for me.
+It was all quite simple, and I rather rejoiced in my independence as my
+cab drew up under the archway at Paddington. But there my difficulties
+began.
+
+There was a raging, roaring crowd going off for holidays too. The cabman
+demanded double the legal fare. It was a quarter of an hour before I
+could get a porter for my luggage, and then I had almost to fight my way
+to the ticket-office. When at last I had got my ticket the train was due
+out.
+
+"Jump in anywhere," said the porter; "I'll see that your luggage goes."
+
+The carriages were crammed full. I raced down the platform till I saw
+room for one, and then tore open the door, an sank into my seat as the
+train steamed out of the station.
+
+I looked round for sympathy at my narrow escape, but my
+fellow-travellers were evidently one party. They looked at me coldly, as
+at an unwelcome intruder, and drew more closely together, discussing the
+day's doings; so I curled up in my corner and gave myself up to
+anticipations of the holidays.
+
+These were so engrossing that I took no count of the stations we passed
+through. I was just picturing to myself the delights of a long ride on
+the pony, when, to my amazement the stopping of the train was followed
+by the loud exhortation:
+
+"All change here!"
+
+"Why, where are we?" I asked, looking up bewildered.
+
+"At Lowford," replied one of my fellow-passengers.
+
+But they gathered up their parcels, and swept out of the carriage
+without a question as to my destination.
+
+I seized on a porter.
+
+"How did I get here?" I asked him; "I was going to Upperton. What has
+happened?"
+
+"Upperton, was you?" said the man. "Why, you must ha' got into the slip
+carriage for Lowford. I s'pose 'twas a smartish crowd at Paddin'ton."
+
+"It was," I replied, "and I hadn't time to ask if I was right. I suppose
+my luggage has gone on. But what can I do now? How far is it to
+Upperton? Is there another train?"
+
+"Well, no, there ain't another train, not to-night. It's a matter of
+fifteen mile to Upperton by the road."
+
+"Which way is it?"
+
+"Well, you couldn't miss it, that goes straight on pretty nigh all the
+way. You've only got to follow the telegraph-postes till you comes to
+the "Leather Bottle," and then you turns to the right."
+
+"I know my way from there."
+
+"But you could never walk all that way to-night. You'd better by half
+stay at the hotel, and go on by rail in the morning."
+
+"I'll wire to them at home to drive along the road and meet me, and I'll
+walk on till they do."
+
+"Well, it's fine, and I dessay they'll meet you more'n half way, but
+'tis a lonely road this time o' night."
+
+"I'm not afraid," said I, and walked off briskly.
+
+I bought a couple of buns in a baker's shop, and went on to the
+telegraph office--only to be told it was just after eight o'clock, and
+they could send no message that night.
+
+I turned out my pockets, but all the coins I had were a sixpenny and a
+threepenny piece--not enough to pay for a night's lodging, I was sure.
+The cabman's extortion, and a half-crown I had given to the porter at
+Paddington in my haste, had reduced me to this.
+
+What should I do? I was not long deciding to walk on. Perhaps they would
+guess what had happened at home and send to meet me. The spice of
+adventure appealed to me. If I had gone back to the porter he would
+probably have taken me to the hotel, and they would have trusted me. But
+I did not think of that--I imagine I did not want to think of it. I had
+been used to country roads all my life, and it was a perfect evening in
+late July.
+
+My way lay straight into the heart of the setting sun as I took the
+road. In a clear sky, all pale yellow and pink and green, the sun was
+disappearing behind the line of beech-covered hills which lay between me
+and home, but behind me the moon--as yet only like a tiny round white
+cloud--was rising.
+
+I felt like dancing along the road at first. The sense of freedom was
+intoxicating. The scent of wild honeysuckle and cluster roses came from
+the hedgerows. I ate my buns as I walked along; I had made three and a
+half miles by the milestones in the first hour, and enjoyed every step
+of the way.
+
+"If they don't meet me," I thought, "how astonished they will be when I
+walk in! It will be something to brag of for many a day, to have walked
+fifteen miles after eight o'clock at night."
+
+The daylight had faded, but the moon was so bright and clear that the
+shadows of my solitary figure and the "telegraph-postes" were as black
+and sharp as at noonday. Bats were flitting about up and down. A white
+owl flew silently across the road. Rabbits were playing in the fields in
+the silver light. It was all very beautiful, but a little lonely and
+eerie. I hadn't passed a house for a mile.
+
+Then I heard wheels behind me.
+
+If it were some kind person who would give me a lift!
+
+But I heard a lash used cruelly, and a rough, hoarse voice swearing at
+the horse.
+
+I hurried on, but of course the cart overtook me in a minute.
+
+The man pulled up. He leaned down out of the cart to look at me, and I
+saw his coarse, flushed face and watery eyes.
+
+"Want a lift, my dear?" he asked.
+
+"No, thank you," I answered, "I much prefer walking."
+
+"Too late for a gal like you to be out," he said; "you jump up and drive
+along o' me."
+
+"No, thank you," I repeated, walking on as fast as I could.
+
+He whipped his horse on to keep pace with me; then, leaning on the
+dashboard, he made as though he would climb out of the cart. But just at
+that moment a big bird rustled out of the hedge--the horse sprang aside,
+precipitated his master into the bottom of the cart, and went off at a
+gallop. Very thankful I was to see them disappear into the distance!
+
+I was shaking so with fear that I had to sit down on a stone heap for a
+while.
+
+I pulled myself together and started on again, but all joy was gone from
+the adventure--there seemed really to be too much adventure about it.
+
+Three miles, four miles more I walked; but they did not go as the first
+miles had gone. It was eleven o'clock, and I was only halfway; at this
+rate I could not be home before two in the morning. If they had been
+coming to meet me they would have done so before this. They must have
+given me up for the night, every one would be in bed and asleep, and to
+wake them up in the small hours would frighten them more than my not
+coming home had done.
+
+Moreover, the long road over the hill and through the woods was before
+me. The thought of the moonlit, silent woods, with their weird shadows,
+was too much for me; I looked about for a place of refuge for the night.
+
+I soon found one.
+
+A splendid rick of hay in a field close to the road had been cut.
+Halfway up it there was a wide, broad ledge--just the place for a bed.
+I did not take long to reach it, and, pulling some loose hay over myself
+in case it grew chilly at dawn, I said my prayers--they were real
+prayers that night--and was soon asleep in my soft, fragrant bed.
+
+The sun woke me, shining hot on my nest. I looked at my watch, it was
+six o'clock. Thrushes and blackbirds were singing their hearts out,
+swallows were darting by, high in air a lark was hovering right above my
+head, with quivering wings, singing his morning hymn of praise. I knelt,
+up there on the hayrick, and let my thanks go with his to heaven's gate.
+
+I had never felt such a keen sense of gratitude as I did that summer
+morning: the dangers of the night all past and over, and a beautiful new
+day given to me, and only seven miles and a half between me and home.
+
+'Tis true that I was very hungry, but I started on my way and soon came
+to a cottage whose mistress was up giving her husband his breakfast. She
+very willingly gave me as much bread-and-butter as I could eat, and a
+cup of tea. I did not quarrel with the thickness of the bread or the
+quality of the butter, or even with the milkless tea--I had the poor
+man's sauce to flavour them.
+
+When she heard my story, the woman overwhelmed me with pity and regrets
+that I had not reached her house overnight and slept there. But I did
+not regret it. I would not have given up my "night on the road" now it
+was over for worlds.
+
+She was grateful for the sixpence I gave her--having learnt wisdom, I
+reserved the threepenny bit--and I went on.
+
+The air was delicious, with a spring and exhilaration in it which
+belongs to the early morning hours. The sunlight played hide-and-seek in
+the woods. Patches of purple heath alternated with lilac scabious and
+pale hare-bells. The brake ferns were yellow-tipped here and there--a
+forewarning of autumn--and in one little nook I found a bed of luscious
+wild strawberries. My heart danced with my feet, and I wondered if the
+tramps ever felt as I did, in the summer mornings, after sleeping out
+under a hedge.
+
+I reached home by nine o'clock, and then there was a hubbub, and a
+calling out of, "Here's Muriel!" "Why, Muriel, where have you sprung
+from?" "What happened last night? We were so frightened, but they told
+us at the station that it was an awful crowd at Paddington, and you must
+have missed the train, and of course we thought you would go back to
+Miss Black's, but you ought to have wired."
+
+It was ever so long before I could make them believe that I had been out
+all night, and slept in a hayrick; and then mother was almost angry with
+me, and father told me if ever I found myself in such a predicament
+again I was to go to a respectable hotel and persuade them to take me
+in. But he said he would take very good care that no child of his should
+ever be in such a predicament again. But I could not be sorry, the
+beginning and the end were so beautiful.
+
+
+
+
+THE MISSING LETTER.
+
+BY JENNIE CHAPPELL.
+
+
+The Briars was a very old-fashioned house, standing in its own grounds,
+about ten miles from Smokeytown. It was much dilapidated, for Miss Clare
+the owner and occupier, had not the necessary means for repairing it,
+and as she had lived there from her birth--a period of nearly sixty
+years--did not like to have the old place pulled down. Not more than
+half the rooms were habitable, and in one of them---the former
+dining-room--there sat, one January afternoon, Miss Clare, with her
+young nephew and niece. They were having tea, and the firelight danced
+cosily on the worn, once handsome furniture, and the portly metal
+teapot, which replaced the silver one, long since parted with for half
+its value in current coin. The only modern article in the room,
+excepting the aforesaid nephew and niece, was a pretty, though
+inexpensive, pianoforte, which stood under a black-looking portrait of a
+severe-visaged lady with her waist just under her arms, and a general
+resemblance, as irreverent Aubrey said, to a yard and a half of pump
+water.
+
+Just now Miss Clare was consuming toast in silence, and Kate was
+wondering if there was any way of making bows that had been washed twice
+and turned three times look like new; while Aubrey's handsome head was
+bent over a book, for he was addicted to replenishing mind and body at
+the same time. Suddenly Miss Clare exclaimed, "Dear me; it is fifty
+years to-day since Marjorie Westford died!"
+
+Kate glanced up at the pump-water lady, with the laconic remark,
+"Fancy!"
+
+"It's very likely that on such an interesting anniversary the fair Miss
+Marjorie may revisit her former haunts," said Aubrey, raising a pair of
+glorious dark eyes with a mischievous smile; "so if you hear an
+unearthly bumping and squealing in the small hours, you may know who it
+is."
+
+"The idea of a ghost 'bumping and squealing,'" laughed Kate. "And Miss
+Marjorie, too! The orthodox groan and glide would be more like her
+style." Then her mind wandered to a story connected with that lady,
+which had given rise to much speculation on the part of the young
+Clares. Half a century ago there lived at the Briars a family consisting
+of a brother and two sisters; the former a gay young spendthrift of
+twenty-five; the girls, Anna, aged twenty, and Lucy, the present Miss
+Clare, nine years old respectively. With them resided a maiden sister of
+their mother's, Marjorie Westford, an eccentric person, whose property
+at her death reverted to a distant relative. A short time before she
+died she divided her few trinkets and personal possessions between the
+three young people, bequeathing to Anna, in addition, a sealed letter,
+to be read on her twenty-first birthday. The girl hid the packet away
+lest she should be tempted to read it before the appointed time; but ere
+that arrived she was drowned by the upsetting of a boat, and never since
+had the concealed letter been found, although every likely place had
+been searched for it. Lucy never married, and George had but one son,
+whose wife died soon after the birth of Kate, and in less than a year he
+married again, this time to a beautiful young heiress, subsequently
+mother to Aubrey, who was thus rather more than two years Kate's junior.
+
+The younger George Clare, a spendthrift like his father, speedily
+squandered his wife's fortune, and died, leaving her with barely
+sufficient to keep herself and little son from want. Yet such was Mrs.
+Clare's undying love for the husband who had treated her so badly, that
+in their greatest straits she refused to part with a locket containing
+his likeness and hers which was valuable by reason of the diamonds and
+sapphires with which it was encrusted. This locket was the only thing
+she had to leave her little Aubrey when she died, and he, a lovely boy
+of nine summers, went with his half-sister (who had a small sum of money
+settled on her by her maternal grandfather) to reside with their
+great-aunt, Miss Clare.
+
+Presently the quietness at the tea-table was disturbed by a loud single
+knock at the front door, and Aubrey bounced out of the room.
+
+"A note from Mr. Green," he said, returning. "I wonder what's up now? No
+good, I'm afraid."
+
+This foreboding was only too fully realised. The agent for Miss Clare's
+little property at Smokeytown wrote to tell her that during a recent
+gale one of her best houses had been so much injured by the falling of a
+factory chimney, that the repairs would cost quite L30 before it could
+again be habitable. This was a dire misfortune. So closely was their
+income cut, and so carefully apportioned to meet the household expenses,
+that, after fullest consideration, Miss Clare could only see her way
+clear for getting together about L15 towards meeting this unexpected
+demand, and three very anxious faces bent around the table in
+discussion.
+
+Presently Aubrey slipped away and ran upstairs to his own room. He then
+lit a candle, and pulling a box from under an old horse-hair chair,
+unlocked it, taking out a small morocco case, which, when opened,
+revealed something that sparkled and scintillated even in the feeble
+rays of the cheap "composite." It was the precious locket, placed in his
+hands by his dying mother four years before. Inside were two exquisite
+miniatures on ivory--the one a handsome, careless-looking man, the
+other, on which the boy's tender gaze was now fixed, was the portrait of
+a lady, with just such pure, bright features, and sweet, dark-grey eyes
+as Aubrey himself.
+
+"Mother, my own darling," he murmured, pressing the picture to his lips,
+"how _can_ I part with you?" And dropping his head on the hard, prickly
+cushion, by which he knelt, he cried in a way that would considerably
+have astonished the youths with whom he had, a few hours earlier,
+engaged in a vigorous snowball fight. They only knew a bright, mirthful
+Aubrey Clare, the cleverest lad in his class, and the "jolliest fellow
+out;" none but Kate had any idea of the deepest affections of his boyish
+heart, and she truly sympathised with her half-brother in his love for
+the only portrait and souvenir remaining of the gentle creature who had
+so well supplied a mother's place for her. Something in Aubrey's face
+when he left the room had told her of his thoughts, so presently she
+followed him and tapped at the half-open door. Obtaining no answer, she
+entered, and saw the boy kneeling before the old chair with his head
+bent. The open case lay beside him, and Kate easily guessed what it was
+held so tightly in his clenched hand. She stooped beside him, and
+stroked his wavy hair caressingly as she said, "It can't be that,
+Aubrey."
+
+"It must," replied a muffled voice from the chair cushion.
+
+"It _sha'n't_ be," said Kate firmly. "I've thought of a plan----"
+
+But Aubrey sprang to his feet. "See here, Katie," he said excitedly, but
+with quivering voice; "I've been making an idol of this locket. It ought
+to have gone before, when aunt lost so much money by those Joneses; but
+you both humoured my selfishness."
+
+"Being fond of anything, especially anything like that, isn't making an
+idol of it, I'm sure," said Katie.
+
+"It is if it prevents you doing what you ought, I tell you, Katie; it's
+downright dishonest of me to keep this," he continued, with burning
+cheeks, "living as I am upon charity, and aunt so poor. I see it plainly
+now. Mr. Wallis offered to buy it of me last summer, and if he likes he
+shall have it now."
+
+"He is gone to Rillford," said Kate, in whose mind an idea was beginning
+to hatch.
+
+"He'll be back on Saturday, and then I'll ask him. It won't be _really_
+losing mamma's likeness, you know," he added, with a pathetic attempt at
+his own bright smile. "Whenever I shut my eyes I can see her face, just
+as she looked when----" but he was stopped by a queer fit of coughing
+and rubbed the curl of his hair that always tumbled over his forehead;
+so Katie couldn't see his face, but she knew what the sacrifice must
+cost him, and, girl-like, exalted him to a pedestal of heroism
+immediately; but when she would have bestowed an enthusiastic embrace,
+he slipped away from her and ran downstairs.
+
+Left alone, Kate stood long at the uncurtained window, gazing at the
+unearthlike beauty of the moonlit snow. When at last she turned away,
+the afore mentioned idea was fully fledged and strong.
+
+She found her hero with his nose ungracefully tucked into an uncut
+magazine, and his chair tilted at a perilous angle with the floor, just
+like any ordinary boy, and felt a tiny bit disappointed. Presently she
+turned to the piano, which was to her a companion and never failing
+delight. She had a taste for music, which Miss Clare had, as far as was
+practicable, cultivated; and although Kate had not received much
+instruction, she played with a sweetness and expression that quite made
+up for any lack of brilliant execution. This evening her touch was very
+tender, and the tunes she played were sad.
+
+By-and-bye Katie lingered, talking earnestly with her aunt long after
+Aubrey had gone to bed; and when at last she wished her good-night, she
+added, anxiously, "Then I really may, auntie; you are sure you don't
+mind?"
+
+And Miss Clare said, "I give you full permission to do what you like,
+dear. If you love Aubrey well enough to make so great a sacrifice for
+him, I hope he will appreciate your generosity as he ought; but whether
+he does or not, you will surely not lose your reward. I am more grieved
+than I can tell you to know that it is necessary."
+
+Two days later, Aubrey was just going to tear a piece off the
+_Smokeytown Standard_ to do up a screw of ultramarine, when his eye was
+arrested by an advertisement which he read two or three times before he
+could believe the evidence of his senses; it was this,--
+
+"To be sold immediately, a pretty walnut-wood cottage pianoforte, in
+excellent condition, and with all the latest improvements. Price 15_l._
+Apply at 'The Briars,' London Road."
+
+He rushed upstairs to Kate, who, with her head adorned by a check
+duster, was busy sweeping (for they had no servant), and burst in upon
+her with, "What on earth are you going to sell it for?"
+
+There was no need to inquire what "it" was, and Kate, without pausing in
+her occupation, replied, "To help make up the money aunt wants."
+
+"But if Mr. Wallis buys the locket;" then the truth flashed upon him,
+and he broke off suddenly, "Oh, Katie, you're _never_ going to----"
+
+"Sell the piano because I don't want the locket to go," finished Katie,
+with a smile, that in spite of the check duster made her look quite
+angelic.
+
+Aubrey flew at her, and hugging her, broom and all, exclaimed,--
+
+"Oh, how _could_ you! You are too good; I didn't half deserve it. Was
+there ever such a darling sister before?" and a great deal more in the
+same strain, as he showered kisses upon her till he took away her
+breath, one moment declaring that she shouldn't do it and he wouldn't
+have it, and the next assuring her that he could never thank her enough,
+and never forget it as long as he lived. And Katie was as happy as he
+was.
+
+It was rather a damper, however, when that day passed, and the next, and
+no one came to look even at the bargain. Aubrey said that if no
+purchaser appeared before the following Wednesday, he should certainly
+go to Mr. Wallis about the locket; and it really seemed as if Katie's
+sacrifice was not to be made after all.
+
+Tuesday afternoon came, still nobody had been in answer to the
+advertisement. It was a pouring wet day, and Aubrey's holiday hung
+heavily on his hands. He had read every book he could get at, painted
+two illuminations, constructed several "patent" articles for Kate, which
+would have been great successes, but for sundry "ifs," and abandoned as
+hopeless the task of teaching Caesar, Miss Clare's asthmatic old dog, to
+stand upon his hind legs, and was now gazing drearily out on the soaked
+garden, almost wishing the vacation over. Suddenly he turned to his
+sister, who was holding a skein of worsted for her aunt to wind,
+exclaiming, "Katie, I've struck a bright!"
+
+"What is it?" she asked, understanding that he had had an inspiration of
+some sort. "An apparatus for getting at nuts without cracking them; or a
+chest-protector for Caesar to wear in damp weather?"
+
+"Neither; I'm going to rummage in the old bookcase upstairs, and see if
+I can come across anything fit to read, or an adventure." And not being
+in the habit of letting the grass grow under his feet (if vegetation was
+ever known to develop in such unfavourable circumstances), he bounded
+away; while Miss Clare observed, rather anxiously, "When that boy goes
+adventure-seeking, it generally ends in a catastrophe; but I don't think
+he can do much mischief up there."
+
+Ten minutes afterwards, Katie went to see how Aubrey was getting on, and
+found him doing nothing worse than polishing the covers of some very
+dirty old books with one of his best pocket-handkerchiefs. When she
+remonstrated with him, he recommended her to get a proper, ordained
+duster, and undertake that part of the programme herself. So presently
+she was quite busy, for Aubrey tossed the books out much faster than she
+could dust and examine them. Very discoloured, mouldy-smelling old books
+they were, of a remarkably uninteresting character generally, which
+perhaps accounted for their long abandonment to the dust and damp of
+that unused apartment. When the case was emptied, and the contents piled
+upon the floor, Aubrey said, "Now lend us a hand to pull the old thing
+out, and see what's behind."
+
+"Spiders," replied Katie promptly, edging back.
+
+"I'll have the satisfaction of a gentleman of the first spider that
+looks at you," said Aubrey, reassuringly. "Come, catch hold!"
+
+So Katie "caught hold;" and between them they managed to drag the
+cumbrous piece of furniture sufficiently far out of the recess in which
+it stood for the boy to slip behind. The half-high wainscoting had in
+one place dissolved partnership with the wall; and obeying an impulse
+for which he could never account, Aubrey dived behind, fishing out,
+among several odd leaves and dilapidated covers, a small hymn-book bound
+in red leather. Kate took it to the window to examine, for the light was
+fading fast. On the fly-leaf was written in childish, curly-tailed
+letters, "Anna Clare; July 1815," followed by the exquisite poetical
+stanza commencing,--
+
+    "The grass is green, the rose is red;
+    Think of me when I am dead,"
+
+which she read aloud to her brother. A minute afterwards, as she turned
+the brown-spotted leaves, there fell out a packet, a letter
+superscribed, "Miss Anna Clare; to be read on her twenty-first birthday,
+and when quite alone." Katie gasped, "Oh, look!" and dropped the paper
+as if it burned her fingers. Aubrey sprang forward, prepared to slay a
+giant spider, but when his eyes fell upon the writing which had so
+startled his sister, he too seemed petrified. They gazed fixedly into
+each other's eyes for a minute, then Aubrey said emphatically,--
+
+"It's _that_!" And both rushed precipitately downstairs, exclaiming,
+"Auntie, auntie, we've found it!"
+
+Now Miss Clare was just partaking of that popular refreshment "forty
+winks," and was some time before she could understand what had so
+greatly excited her young relations; but when at last it dawned upon
+her, she hastily brought out her spectacles, and lit the lamp, while
+every moment seemed an hour to the impatient children. When would she
+leave off turning the yellow packet in her fingers, and poring over the
+faded writing outside? At last the seal is broken, and two pairs of
+eager eyes narrowly watch Miss Clare's face as she scans the contents.
+
+"It _is_ the long-lost letter!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Where
+did you find it?"
+
+Both quickly explained, adding, "Do read it, auntie; what does Miss
+Marjorie say?"
+
+So in a trembling voice Miss Clare read the words penned by a dying hand
+fifty years before,--
+
+     "MY DEAREST ANNA,--I feel that I have but a short time
+     longer to live, and but one thing disturbs my peace. It is
+     the presentiment that sooner or later the thoughtless
+     extravagance of your brother George will bring you all into
+     trouble. It is little I can do to avert this calamity, but
+     years of economy have enabled me to save 280_l._ (which is
+     concealed beneath the floor in my room, under the third
+     plank from the south window, about ten inches from the
+     wall). I wish you, niece Anna, to hold this money in trust,
+     as a profound secret, and to be used _only_ in case of an
+     emergency such as I have hinted. In the event of none such
+     taking place before your sister is of age, you are then to
+     divide the money, equally between yourself, George and
+     Lucy, to use as you each may please. Hoping that I have
+     made my purpose clear, and that my ever trustworthy Anna
+     will faithfully carry out my wishes, I pray that the
+     blessing of God may rest richly on my nephew and nieces,
+     and bid you, dearest girl, farewell.
+
+                                           "MARJORIE WESTFORD.
+     "January 2nd, 1825."
+
+Miss Clare's eyes were dim when she finished these words, sounding, as
+they did, like a voice from the grave, while Kate and Aubrey sat in
+spellbound silence. The boy was the first to speak.
+
+"Do you think it is still there?"
+
+"There is no reason why it should not be," replied Miss Clare; "indeed
+it seems that this legacy, so strangely hidden for half a century, and
+as strangely brought to light, is to be the means by which our Father
+will bring us out of our present difficulties."
+
+"Get a light, Katie, and let's look for the treasure; that will be the
+best way of making sure that our adventure isn't the result of a
+mince-pie supper," suggested Aubrey, producing his tool-box.
+
+So they all proceeded to the room, now seldom entered, where Marjorie
+Westford breathed her last. It was almost empty, and the spot indicated
+in the letter was soon determined upon. Aubrey knelt down on the floor,
+and commenced, in a most unsystematic way, his task of raising the
+board; while Katie, trembling with excitement, dropped grease spots on
+his head from her tilted candlestick.
+
+Aubrey's small tools were wholly inadequate to their task, and many were
+the cuts and bruises his inexperienced hands received before he at
+length succeeded in prising the stubborn plank.
+
+There lay the mahogany box, which, with some trouble, owing to its
+weight, they succeeded in bringing to the surface. It fastened by a
+simple catch, and was filled with golden guineas.
+
+When Kate bade Aubrey good-night upon the stairs, he detained her a
+minute to murmur with a soft light in his dusky eyes,--
+
+"I'm so very, very glad your sacrifice isn't to be made, darling, but
+the will is just the same as the deed. I shall love you for it as long
+as you live; and better still," he added, with deepening colour and
+lowered voice, "God knows, and will love you too."
+
+
+
+
+"THE COLONEL."
+
+BY MARION DICKEN.
+
+
+Dick was only thirteen years of age, but he was in love, and in love too
+with Captain Treves's wife, who, in his eyes, was spick-span perfection.
+In their turn Mrs. Treves's two little boys, aged six and five
+respectively, were in love with Dick, who appeared to them to be the
+model of all that a schoolboy ought to be.
+
+It was in church on Easter Sunday that Dick first realised his passion,
+and then--as he glanced from Mrs. Treves to the captain's stalwart
+form--the hopelessness of it! He remarked, afterwards, to his brother
+Ted, a lieutenant in Treves's regiment, that Mrs. Treves looked
+"ripping" in grey. But Ted was busy with his own thoughts, in which, if
+the truth be told, the sermon figured as little as in those of his
+younger brother.
+
+Dick was on very friendly terms with the Treves and was rather surprised
+to find that the captain and his wife treated him more like a little boy
+than a "chap of thirteen--in fact, almost fourteen," as he put it to
+himself. He used to take Jack and Roy out on the river and to the baths,
+where he taught them both to swim. To use Ted's own expression to a
+brother-sub, "Dick was making a thorough nursemaid and tutor of himself
+to those kids of the captain's." He _was_ teaching them certainly,
+unconsciously, but steadily, a great many things.
+
+Jack no longer cried when he blistered his small paws trying to scull,
+and when Roy thought of Dick, or the "colonel," as they called him, he
+left off making grimaces at, and teasing, his baby sister, because Dick
+had answered carelessly when Jack once offered to fight him, "No thanks,
+old boy, I only hit a chap my own size." Roy recognised the difference
+between tormenting a girl and fighting a boy.
+
+About three weeks after Dick went back to school for the summer term,
+both the little Treves's fell ill, and Jack cried incessantly for "the
+colonel." Yet when kind old Colonel Duke came to see him one afternoon,
+and brought him some grapes, the child turned fretfully away and still
+cried, "'Colonel'; I want the 'colonel'!"
+
+"But, Jack dear, this is the colonel," remonstrated his mother, gently
+smoothing the crumpled pillow.
+
+But Jack still wailed fretfully, and would not be comforted.
+
+Colonel Duke happened to remark on the incident at mess that evening,
+and Ted Lloyd knitted his brows, as if trying to solve some mental
+mystery. The result of his cogitations was an early visit to Mrs. Treves
+next day.
+
+The children were worse. Roy was, indeed, dangerously ill; and neither
+his father nor mother could persuade Jack to take his medicine.
+
+"We cannot think whom he means by 'colonel'," added the poor lady
+despairingly.
+
+"That's just what I've come about, Mrs. Treves; they used to call my
+young brother that at Easter."
+
+"You are sure, Mr. Lloyd?"
+
+"Quite. I heard them myself more than once. I'll trot round and see the
+Mater, and we will wire for him if it will do any good."
+
+That afternoon Dick received a telegram which sent him off full speed to
+his housemaster for the necessary permission to go home.
+
+"Is Mater ill?" he asked breathlessly, as he bundled out of the train on
+to Ted, who bore the onrush heroically.
+
+"No, she's quite well, only Treves's kids are ill."
+
+"Well?" queried Dick rather indignantly, as he thought of the
+cricket-match on the morrow, in which he had hoped to take part.
+
+"Well, you see, Dick, they're seriously ill, and they can't make the
+little 'un take his physic."
+
+"Well, I can't take it for him, can I? queried Dick, as they started
+home.
+
+"Nobody wants you to, you little duffer. But the kids used to call you
+'colonel,' and now he keeps crying for you. Perhaps if you order him to
+take the physic, he will--that's all."
+
+"Oh!" briefly responded Dick.
+
+He was sorry to hear that his whilom chums, the "captain" and
+"lieutenant," were ill. But weren't kids always having something or
+other, and would he always be sent for to dose them? "Rot!"
+
+However, these thoughts abruptly left him, when, directly after tea, he
+went to the captain's and saw Mrs. Treves' pale and anxious face, and
+instead, his old allegiance, but deeper and truer, returned.
+
+"Thank you, Dick," she said kindly in reply to his awkward tender of
+sympathy. And then they went upstairs.
+
+By Jack's bed a glass of medicine was standing. A nurse was turning
+Roy's pillow, and Captain Treves stood by her, gnawing his long
+moustache.
+
+Just then Jack's fretful wail sounded through the room for "'Colonel!'
+Daddy, Jack wants the 'colonel'!"
+
+"I'm here, old man," said Dick, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
+"Drink this at once," he added, taking up the glass, as he remembered
+his brother's suggestion.
+
+But Jack had clutched Dick's hand and now lay back sleepily.
+
+Dick felt desperate. He glanced round. Captain and Mrs. Treves and the
+nurse were gathered round the other little white bed. Was Roy worse?
+With what he felt to be an unmanly lump in his throat, he leaned over
+the boy again.
+
+"Jack, I say, Jack" (hurriedly), "if you drink this you shall be a
+captain."
+
+Jack heard, and when Dick raised him up, he drained the glass.
+
+"But Roy, Dick, he's a captain?"
+
+"Roy shall be promoted too," replied Dick.
+
+And just then the captain left the other bed and came over to Jack. Dick
+could see Mrs. Treves bending over Roy, and the nurse leaving the room.
+He looked up and saw that there were actually tears in the captain's
+eyes. He had never seen a soldier cry before, and guessed what had
+happened. Roy had indeed been promoted. He would never again "play
+soldiers" with Jack or Dick.
+
+Jack was now sleeping quietly, and the doctor, who came in an hour
+later, pronounced him out of danger.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Goodbye, my boy. We thought you'd like Roy's watch as you were fond of
+him," said the captain next day; and then Mrs. Treves not only shook
+hands, but stooped and kissed him.
+
+Dick flushed, muttered some incoherent thanks, and went off to the
+station.
+
+Dick reached school in time for the cricket-match, after all; but, fond
+as he was of cricket, he absented himself from the ground that
+afternoon, and spent the time printing off some photos of "two kids," as
+a chum rather scornfully remarked.
+
+One of those "kids" is now a lieutenant in the regiment of which Dick is
+a captain, and, indeed, in a fair way to become a colonel--for the
+second time in his life.
+
+
+
+
+NETTIE.
+
+BY ALFRED G. SAYERS.
+
+
+Nettie was a bright, fair girl of fifteen years of age, tall and
+graceful in movement and form, and resolute in character beyond her
+years. She was standing on the departure platform of the L. & N. W.
+Railway at Euston Square, watching the egress of the Manchester express,
+or rather that part of it which disclosed a head, an arm, and a cap, all
+moving in frantic and eccentric evolutions.
+
+Tom, her brother, two years her senior, was on his way back to school
+for his last term, full of vague, if big, ideas of what he was going to
+be when, school days over, he should "put away childish things." "Most
+of our fellows," he had said loftily, as he stood beside his sister on
+the platform a few moments before, "go into the Army or Navy and become
+admirals or generals or something of that sort." And then he had hinted
+with less definiteness that his own career would probably combine the
+advantages of all the professions though he only followed one. But Tom
+soon dropped from these sublime heights to more mundane considerations,
+and his last words concerned a new cricket bat which Nettie was to
+"screw out of the gov'nor" for him, a new pup which she was to bring up
+by hand under his special directions, and correspondence, which on her
+part at least, was to be regular, and not too much occupied with details
+about "the kids."
+
+Nettie sighed as she turned her steps homewards, and her handkerchief
+was damped by at least one drop of distilled emotion that bedewed the
+rose upon her cheek. Poor Nettie, she too was conscious of a destiny,
+and had bewildered thoughts of what she was going to be! She had opened
+her heart on this subject to her brother Tom during the holidays; but
+she had not received much encouragement, and at the present moment she
+was inclined to murmur at the reflection that the world was made for
+boys, and after all she was only a girl.
+
+"What will you be?" Tom had said in answer to her question during one of
+their confidential chats. "You? why, you--well, you will stay with the
+mater, of course."
+
+"Yes; but girls do all sorts of things nowadays, Tom," she had replied.
+"Some are doctors, some are authors, some are----"
+
+"Blue-stockings," responded the ungallant Tom. "Don't be absurd, Net,"
+he added patronisingly; "you'll stay with the pater and mater, and some
+day you will marry some fellow, or you can keep house for me, and then,
+when I am not with my ship or my regiment, of course I shall be with
+you."
+
+Poor Nettie! She had formed an idea that the possibilities of life ought
+to include something more heroic for her than keeping house for her
+brother, and she had determined that she would not sink herself in the
+hum-drum of uneventful existence without some effort to avoid it; and so
+it happened that that same evening, after doing her duty by the baby pup
+and Tom's new cricket bat, she startled her father and mother by the
+somewhat abrupt and altogether unexpected question,--
+
+"Father, what am I going to be?"
+
+"Be?" repeated her father, drawing her on to his knee, "why, be my good
+little daughter as you always have been, Nettie. Are you tired of that,
+dear?"
+
+But no, Nettie was not tired of her father's love, and she had no idea
+of being less affectionate because she wanted to be more wise and
+useful, and so she returned her father's caresses with interest, and
+treated her mother in the same way, so that there might be no jealousy;
+and then, sitting down in the armchair with the air of one commanding
+attention, harked back to the all-absorbing topic. "You know, father,
+there's Minnie Roberts, isn't there?"
+
+"What if there is?" replied her father.
+
+"Well, you know she's going to the University, don't you, dad?"
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+"Well, she is. Then she'll be a doctor, or professor, or something.
+That's what I should like to be."
+
+Mr. Anderson looked from his wife to his daughter with somewhat of
+surprise on his face. He was a just man; and he and his wife had but
+recently discussed the plans (including personal sacrifices) by which
+Master Tom's advancement was to be secured. Really, that anything
+particular needed to be done for Nettie had hardly occurred to him. He
+had imagined her going on at the High School for another year, say, and
+then settling down as mother's companion. His desire not to be harsh,
+coupled with his unreadiness, led Mr. Anderson to temporise. "Well,
+little girl," he said, "you plod on, and we'll have a talk about it."
+Nettie was in a triumphant mood. She had expected repulse, to be
+reminded of the terrible expense Tom was, and was to be, and she felt
+the battle already won. Doubtless the fact that Nettie was heartened was
+a great deal toward the success that was unexpectedly to dazzle her. She
+worked hard at school, and yet so buoyant was her spirit, that she found
+it easy to neglect none of her customary duties at home. She helped dust
+the drawing-room, and ran to little Dorothy in her troubles as of yore;
+and Mrs. Anderson came to remark more and more often to her husband,
+what a treat it would be when Nettie came home for good. "You can see
+she has forgotten every word about the idea of a profession," said that
+lady; "and I'm very glad. She's the light of the house." Forgotten! Oh
+no! Far from it! as they were soon to realise. The end of the term
+came--Tom was expected home on the morrow, Saturday. In the afternoon
+Nettie walked in from school, her face ablaze with excitement. For a
+moment she could say nothing; so that her mother dropped her work and
+wondered if Nettie had picked up a thousand-pound note. Then came the
+announcement--"Mother! I've won a Scholarship!"
+
+"You have?"
+
+"Yes, mother dear, I'm the QUEEN VICTORIA SCHOLAR!" Nettie stood up and
+bowed.
+
+"And what does that do for you?"
+
+"Why, I can go on studying for my profession for three years, and it
+won't cost father a penny!"
+
+"What profession, dear?"
+
+"I don't know, mother, what. But I want to be a doctor."
+
+"A what!"
+
+"A doctor, mother. Minnie Roberts is studying for a doctor; and I think
+it's splendid."
+
+"What! cut people open with a knife!"
+
+"Yes, mother, if it's going to do them good."
+
+"But, my dear----"
+
+However, Nettie knew very little about the medical profession; she only
+knew that Minnie Roberts went about just in the independent way that a
+man does, and was studying hard, and seemed very lively and witty. So
+detailed discussion was postponed to congratulation, inquiry, and
+surmise. "What _will_ Tom say?" Nettie found herself continually asking
+herself, and herself quite unable to answer herself. What Tom did
+actually say we must detail in its proper place, which comes when Mr.
+Anderson and Nettie go to meet him at the station. They were both rather
+excited, for Mr. Anderson had, to tell the truth, felt somewhat guilty
+towards his little daughter over the question of the profession. While
+he had flattered himself that the idea was a passing fancy, she had
+cherished his words of encouragement, and had made easier the
+realisation of her dream by her steady improvement of the opportunity at
+hand, viz., her school work.
+
+Tom kissed Nettie and shook hands with his father, and then it was that
+Nettie said,--
+
+"Tom, I've won a Scholarship!"
+
+And then it was, standing beside his luggage, that Tom replied,--
+
+"Sennacherib!"
+
+Though not strictly to the point, no other word or phrase could have
+shown those who knew Tom how much he was moved. Nettie knew. She was
+rather sorry Tom had to be told at all, for he had been quite
+unsuccessful this term, a good deal to his father's disappointment; and
+Nettie was sure he must feel the contrast of her own success rather
+keenly. They talked of other things on the way home, and directly Tom
+had kissed his mother and Dorothy and Joe, Nettie said, "Now shall we go
+and get the pup? I can tell you he's a beauty!"
+
+"What a brick you are, Net, to think of it!" said Tom. "Yes; let's go."
+
+These holidays were very delightful to Nettie and Tom; that young man
+permitted, even encouraged, terms of perfect equality. He forgot to
+patronise or disparage his sister or her sex. Perhaps his sister's
+success and his own lack of it had made him feel a bit modest. Nettie
+had explained her achievement both to herself and others by the fact
+that she had been so happy. And she was right. Some people talk as
+though a discipline of pain were necessary for all people in order to
+develop the best in them. That is not so. There are certain temperaments
+found in natures naturally fine, to whom a discipline of pleasure is
+best, especially in youth, and happily God often sends pleasure to
+these: we mean the pleasure of success; the pleasure of realising
+cherished plans; the pleasure of health and strength to meet every duty
+of life cheerfully. And now Nettie began to build castles in the air for
+Tom. Tom would go to Sandhurst; he would pass well; he would have a
+commission in a crack regiment. And Tom's repentance of some former
+disparagement of the sex was shown in such remarks as "that Beauchamp
+major--you know, the fellow I told you a good deal about."
+
+"Oh yes, a fine fellow!"
+
+"Well, I don't know, Net--I begin to think he's a beastly idiot. That
+fellow was bragging to me the other day that he bullied his sisters into
+fagging for him when he was at home. I think that's enough for me." And
+so holidays again came to an end, to Nettie's secret delight. She hated
+parting with Tom, but she longed to be back at her work.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Six years passed away and Nettie's career had been one of unbroken
+success. She had proceeded to Newnham and had come out splendidly in her
+examinations. Only one thing clouded her sky. Tom had not been
+successful. In spite of all that coaching could do, he had been plucked
+at Sandhurst, and the doctor had prohibited further study for the
+present. Nettie wrote to him constantly, making light of his failure,
+and assuring him of ultimate success. And now she was to make her start
+in her chosen profession. Before long she would be able to write herself
+"Nettie Anderson, M.D." and she was then to go into practice with her
+elder friend, Minnie Roberts. Little paragraphs had even appeared in
+some of the papers that "for the first time in the history of medicine
+in England, two lady graduates in medicine are to practise in
+partnership." Miss Roberts was already settled in one of the Bloomsbury
+squares, and had a constantly increasing circle of clients.
+
+One Saturday afternoon in October the inaugural banquet was held. Nettie
+had a flat of her own in the house, and here the feast was spread. Mr.
+and Mrs. Anderson, Tom, and the two doctors formed the company. They
+were all so proud of Nettie that they almost forgot Tom's lack of
+success. There was what is understood as a high time. Who so gay and
+bright as Nettie! Who so gentle and courteous as Tom! (I am afraid a
+discipline of failure is best for some of us!) How the time flew! How
+soon mother and Nettie had to go to Nettie's room for the mother to don
+her bonnet and get back home in decent time!
+
+"But you'll be marrying, you know, some day, Nettie."
+
+"Ah! time will show, mother dear," was Nettie's answer; and then she
+added, "but if I do it will be from choice and not necessity."
+
+
+
+
+THE MAGIC CABINET.
+
+BY ALBERT E. HOOPER.
+
+
+    "A castle built of granite.
+      With towers grim and tall;
+    A castle built of rainbows,
+      With sunbeams over all:--
+    I pass the one, in ruins,
+      And mount a golden stair,--
+    For the newest and the truest,
+    And the oldest and the boldest,
+    And the fairest and the rarest,
+      Is my castle in the air."--M.
+
+
+I.
+
+ON TWO SIDES OF THE CABINET.
+
+
+"Plenty of nourishment, remember, Mr. Goodman," said the doctor; "you
+must really see that your wife carries out my instructions. And you, my
+dear lady, mustn't trouble about want of appetite. The appetite will
+come all in good time, if you do what I tell you. Good-afternoon."
+
+Little Grace Goodman gazed after the retreating figure of the doctor;
+and when the door closed behind him and her father, she turned to look
+at her mother.
+
+Mrs. Goodman looked very pale and ill, and as she lay back in her
+cushioned-chair she tried to wipe away a tear unseen. But Grace's sight
+was very sharp, and she ran across the room and threw her arms
+impetuously round her mother's neck.
+
+"Oh, mother, are you very miserable?" she asked, while her own lip
+quivered pitifully.
+
+"No, no, my darling, not 'very miserable,'" answered her mother, kissing
+the little girl tenderly. "Hush! don't cry, my love, or you will make
+father unhappy. Here he comes."
+
+Mr. Goodman re-entered the room looking very thoughtful; but as he came
+and sat down beside his wife, he smiled and said cheerfully, "You will
+soon be well now, the doctor says. The worst is over, and you only need
+strengthening."
+
+Mrs. Goodman smiled sadly.
+
+"He little knows how impossible it is to carry out his orders," she
+said.
+
+"Not impossible. We shall be able to manage it, I think."
+
+A sudden light of hope sprang into the sick lady's eyes.
+
+"Is the book taken at last, then?" she asked eagerly.
+
+"The book? No, indeed. The publishers all refuse to have anything to do
+with it. It is a risky business, you see, to bring out such an expensive
+book, and I can't say that I'm surprised at their refusal."
+
+"How are we to get the money, then?" asked his wife. "We have barely
+enough for our everyday wants, and we cannot spare anything for extras."
+
+"We must sell something."
+
+Mrs. Goodman glanced round the shabbily furnished room, and then looked
+back at her husband questioningly.
+
+"Uncle Jacob's Indian cabinet must go," said he.
+
+Mrs. Goodman looked quickly towards a large black piece of furniture
+which stood in a dusky corner of the room, and after a moment's pause,
+she said: "I don't like to part with it at all. It may be very foolish
+and superstitious of me, but I always feel that we should be unwise to
+forget Uncle Jacob's advice. You know what he said about it in his
+will."
+
+"I can't say that I remember much about it," answered her husband. "I
+have a dim remembrance that he said something that sounded rather
+heathenish about the cabinet bringing good luck to its owners. I didn't
+pay much attention to it at the time, because I don't believe in
+anything of the sort. And besides, your Uncle Jacob was a very peculiar
+old gentleman; one never knew what to make of his odd fancies and
+whims."
+
+"Yes, you are quite right; he was a strange old man; but somehow I never
+shared the belief of most people that his intellect was weak. I think he
+had gathered some out-of-the-way notions during his life in India; but
+his mind always seemed clear enough on practical questions."
+
+"Well, what was it he said about the Indian cabinet?"
+
+"He said that he left it to us because we had no need for any of his
+money--we had plenty of our own then!--that the old Magic Cabinet, as he
+called it, had once been the property of a rich Rajah, who had received
+it from the hands of a wise Buddhist priest; that there was something
+talismanic about it, which gave it the power of averting misfortune from
+its owners; and that it would be a great mistake ever to part with it."
+
+Mr. Goodman laughed uneasily.
+
+"I wonder what Uncle Jacob would say now," said he. "When he amused
+himself by writing all that fanciful rubbish in his will, he little
+thought that we should be reduced to such want. It is true, he never
+believed that my book would be worth anything; but he could not foresee
+the failure of the bank and the loss of all our money. I scarcely think,
+if he were alive now, that he would advise me to keep the cabinet and
+allow you to go without the nourishment the doctor orders."
+
+The invalid sighed.
+
+"I suppose there is no help for it," she answered. "The old cabinet must
+go; for I am useless without strength, and I only make the struggle
+harder for you."
+
+All the time her father and mother had been talking, little Grace had
+been looking from one to the other with eager, wide-open eyes; and now
+she cried: "Oh, mother! must the dear old black cabinet be taken away?
+And sha'n't we ever see it again!"
+
+Her father drew her between his knees and smoothed back her fluffy
+golden hair as he said gently: "I know how you will miss it, dear; you
+have had such splendid games and make-believes with it, haven't you? But
+you will be glad to give it up to make mother well, I know."
+
+"Will mother be quite well when the old cabinet is gone away?" asked
+Grace. "Will her face be bright and pink like it used to be? And will
+she go out of doors again?"
+
+"Yes, darling, I hope so. I am going out now to ask a man to come and
+fetch away the cabinet, and while I am gone I want mother to try and get
+'forty winks,' so you must be very quiet."
+
+"Yes, I will," answered Grace quickly. "I must go and say 'good-bye' to
+the cabinet."
+
+Saying this, the little girl ran to the corner of the room in which the
+cabinet stood; and Mr. Goodman, bending down, kissed his wife's pale
+face very tenderly, whispered a word of hope and comfort in her ear, and
+then left the room; and a moment later the sound of the house-door told
+that he had gone out.
+
+Gradually the twilight grew dimmer and dimmer in the little room; and as
+the dusky shadows, which had been lurking in the corners, began to creep
+out across the floor and walls and ceiling, Mrs. Goodman fell into a
+peaceful sleep.
+
+But little Grace sat quite still on the floor, gazing at the Indian
+cabinet.
+
+It was a large and handsome piece of furniture made of ebony, which
+looked beautifully black and shiny; and the folding doors in front were
+carved in a wonderful fashion, and inlaid with cunning silver tracery.
+The carvings on these doors had always been Grace's special delight;
+they had served as her picture books and toys since her earliest
+remembrance, and she knew every line of them by heart. All the birds,
+and beasts, and curly snakes were old friends; but Grace paid little
+attention to any of them just now. All her thoughts were given to the
+central piece of carving, half of which was on each of the doors of the
+cabinet.
+
+This centre piece was carved into the form of an Indian temple, with
+cupolas and towers of raised work; and in front of the temple door there
+sat the figure of a solemn looking Indian priest.
+
+Of all Grace's toy friends this priest was the oldest and dearest, and
+as she looked at him now, the tears began to gather in her eyes at the
+thought of parting with him. And no wonder. He was really a most
+delightful little old man. His long beard was made of hair-like silver
+wire, the whites of his eyes were little specks of inlaid ivory, and in
+his hand he balanced a small bar of solid gold, which did duty as the
+latch of the cabinet doors.
+
+Grace gazed at the priest long and lovingly, and at last, shuffling a
+little nearer to the cabinet, she whispered: "I don't like saying
+'good-bye' a bit. I wish you needn't go away. Don't you think you might
+stay after all if you liked, and help mother to get well in some other
+way? You belong to a magic cabinet, so I suppose you are a magic priest,
+and can do all sorts of wonderful things if you choose."
+
+The priest nodded gravely.
+
+Then, of course, Grace gave a sudden jump, and started away from the
+cabinet with a rather frightened look on her face.
+
+It was one thing to talk to this little carved wooden figure in play,
+and make believe that he was a real live magic priest, but it was quite
+another to find him nodding at her.
+
+She felt very puzzled, but seeing that the figure was sitting quite
+still in front of the temple, she drew close up to the cabinet again,
+and presently she whispered: "Did you nod at me just now?"
+
+The ebony priest bowed his head almost to the ground.
+
+There could be no doubt about it this time. He was a magic priest after
+all. Grace did not feel frightened any more. A joyful hope began to
+swell in her heart, and she said, "Oh, I'm so glad! You won't go away
+and leave us, will you?"
+
+For a moment the figure sat motionless, and then the head gave a most
+decided shake, wagging the silver beard from side to side.
+
+"What a dear old darling you are," exclaimed Grace in delight. "But you
+know how ill poor mother is, and how much she wants nice things to make
+her strong. You will have to get them for her, if you stay, you know."
+
+Again the priest nodded gravely.
+
+"It isn't a very easy thing to do," said Grace, holding up a warning
+finger. "My father is ever such a clever man, and he can't always manage
+it. Why, he has written a great big book, all on long sheets of
+paper--piles, and _piles_, and PILES of them, and even that hasn't done
+it! I shouldn't think you could write a book."
+
+The figure of the priest sat perfectly still, and as she talked Grace
+thought that the expression on his face grew more solemn than ever, and
+even a little cross, so she hastened to say, "Don't be offended, please.
+I didn't mean to be rude. I know you must be very magic indeed, or you
+couldn't nod your head so beautifully. But do you really think you can
+get mother everything the doctor has ordered?"
+
+A fourth time the priest nodded, and this time he did it more
+emphatically than ever.
+
+Little Grace clapped her hands softly.
+
+"Oh! _do_ begin at once, there's a dear," she whispered coaxingly.
+
+Very slowly, as if his joints were stiff, the priest raised his arms,
+and allowed the golden bar in his hands to revolve in a half-circle; and
+then the Indian temple split right down the middle, and the two doors of
+the Magic Cabinet swung wide open.
+
+Grace lost sight of the little priest, and the temple, and all the other
+wonderful carvings as the folding doors rolled back on their hinges; and
+she gazed into the cabinet, wondering what would happen next. She had
+often seen the inside of the cabinet, so, beautiful as it was, it was
+not new to her, and she felt a little disappointed. Half of the space
+was filled up by tiny drawers and cupboards, all covered with thin
+sheets of mother-of-pearl, glowing with soft and delicate tints of pink
+and blue; but the other half was quite unoccupied, and so highly
+polished was the ebony, that the open space looked to Grace like a
+square-cut cave of shiny black marble.
+
+For some moments the little girl sat quite still, gazing into the depths
+of the cabinet; but as nothing happened she got upon her feet, and,
+drawing a step nearer, put her head and half her body inside the open
+space. Everything looked very dark in there, and she felt more
+disappointed than ever; but, just as she was about to draw out her head
+again, she noticed a shining speck in one of the top corners at the
+back of the cabinet. This was not the first time she had seen it, and
+she had always determined to look at it closer; but the cabinet stood on
+carved feet, like the claws of an alligator, and Grace's outstretched
+hand could not quite reach the back. But now the cabinet might be going
+away she felt that she must delay no longer, so she quickly crossed the
+floor and fetched the highest hassock from under the table, and planted
+it in front of the dark opening. Getting upon this, she climbed right
+into the open space, and a moment later she was sitting on the ebony
+floor of the Magic Cabinet.
+
+It was rather a tight squeeze; but Grace did not mind that in the least:
+she drew her feet close in under her, and laughed with glee. Now she
+could see the shining speck plainly. It was only a tiny bright spot in
+the centre of a tarnished metal knob. The knob was an ugly,
+uninteresting-looking thing, and it was fixed so high up in the dark
+corner that she would never have noticed it if it had not been for the
+bright speck in the centre.
+
+Wondering what the knob could be for, Grace gave it a sharp pull; but
+she could not move it. Next she pushed it; and then----
+
+Bang!
+
+The folding doors fell to with a slam, everything became suddenly dark,
+and Grace found herself shut inside the Magic Cabinet. Just for an
+instant she felt too startled to move; but when she recovered from her
+surprise, instead of trying to open the doors of the cabinet, she felt
+for the little metal knob again, and then pushed at it with all her
+might.
+
+First there was a sharp snap, like the turning of a lock; and then she
+heard a harsh, grating sound, as the back of the cabinet slid slowly
+aside and revealed--what do you think?
+
+The wall of the room behind? A secret cupboard?
+
+No, neither of these.
+
+Directly the back of the cabinet moved aside a sudden and brilliant
+flash of light dazzled Grace's eyes, and she was obliged to cover them
+with her hands. But it was not long before she began to peep between
+her fingers, and then she almost cried out for joy.
+
+It seemed that a scene of fairyland had been spread out before her, but
+not in a picture, for everything she saw looked as real as it was
+beautiful. Grace found that she was no longer sitting in a dark and
+narrow cabinet, but on the top step of a marble stairway, which led down
+to a lake of clear and shining water. This lake, on which numbers of
+snowy swans swam in and out among the lily beds, stretched out far and
+wide, and on its banks, among flower-decked trees and shrubs, stately
+palaces and temples were built, whose gilded domes and marble terraces
+glistened brightly in the sunshine.
+
+All this Grace took in with one delighted glance, but it was as quickly
+forgotten in a new and greater surprise that awaited her.
+
+Gently but swiftly over the surface of the shining lake there glided a
+wonderful boat which glimmered with a pearly lustre, and as the breeze,
+filling its sails of purple silk, brought it closer to the steps, Grace
+gave a glad cry and sprang to her feet. A tall, white-bearded man, who
+stood in the prow of the boat, waved a long golden wand over his head,
+and Grace clapped her hands in glee.
+
+"It's my dear, dear Indian priest off the door of the cabinet," she
+cried. "But how tall and beautiful he has grown!"
+
+Before she could say another word the boat of pearl sailed up alongside
+the bottom marble step, and the old man beckoned to her to come down.
+She needed no second bidding, but ran lightly down the stairs and sprang
+into his outstretched arms.
+
+"What a dear, good magic priest you are to come," she said, as he put
+her into a cosy place on some cushions at the bottom of the boat. "And
+what a lovely place this is! Do you live here?"
+
+"Sometimes," answered the old man, with a grave smile.
+
+"Oh, of course; I forgot. You live on the door of the Magic Cabinet
+sometimes. You have been there quite a long time. Ever since I can
+remember anything you have sat in front of the little carved temple.
+Don't you find it dull there sometimes?"
+
+"How do you know I don't go away while you are asleep?"
+
+"I never thought of that," said Grace. "But please tell me, where is the
+Magic Cabinet now?"
+
+The old priest was busy attending to the sails of the boat, which was
+now shooting swiftly away from the shore; but at the question he looked
+up and pointed towards the top of the steps with his golden wand.
+
+Grace looked and saw a lovely little temple built of inlaid coloured
+marbles.
+
+"Is that really the back of our dear old black cabinet?" she cried. "How
+pretty it is! I wonder why we have never found it out."
+
+"Everything has two sides," said the old man, "and one is always more
+beautiful than the other; and, strange to say, the best side is
+generally hidden. It can always be found if people wish for it; but as a
+rule they don't care to take the trouble."
+
+Grace looked very earnestly into the priest's face while he spoke; and
+after he had finished she was so long silent that at last he asked,
+"What are you thinking about?"
+
+"I was thinking about your face," she answered. "You won't think me
+rude, will you?"
+
+"No, certainly not."
+
+"Well, of course, you are just my dear old Indian priest, with the
+strange, dark face and nice white beard, exactly like I have always
+known you, only ever so much bigger and taller; and I'm sure that long
+wand is much finer than the little gold bar you generally hold; but I
+can't help thinking you are just a little like my mother's Uncle Jacob,
+who left us the Magic Cabinet. I have often looked at him in the album,
+and your eyes have a look in them like his. You don't mind, do you?"
+
+"Not at all," answered the old man, smiling kindly; and then he went
+back to the sails again, because the boat was nearing a little island.
+
+"Are we going to get out here?" asked Grace.
+
+"Yes; you want me to do something for you, don't you?" And then,
+without waiting for an answer, he pulled some silken cords, which folded
+up the purple sails like the wings of a resting-bird, and the boat
+grounded gently, and without the slightest shock, on a mossy bank.
+
+Taking the little girl in his arms, the old man sprang ashore. Bright
+flowers and ripe fruits grew in abundance on this fairy-like island, and
+birds of gorgeous plumage flew hither and thither, filling the sunny air
+with music.
+
+But the old priest did not seem to notice any of these things. He led
+Grace by the hand up the mossy bank, and through a thicket of flowering
+shrubs into a glade, in the centre of which he halted and said, "Now,
+what is it to be?"
+
+"Oh, I can't choose," said Grace, looking eagerly up into his face. "You
+know I want mother to be quite well; and I don't want you or the Magic
+Cabinet to go away from us. But I don't know what you had better do.
+Please, please, do whatever you like; I know it will be nice."
+
+The old priest smiled, and struck the ground with his golden wand. Then
+there was such a noise that Grace had to cover up both her ears; and at
+the same time, out of the ground, at a little distance, there rose a
+great red-brick house, with queer twisted chimneys and overhanging
+gable-ends.
+
+Grace stared with astonishment from the house to the gravely-smiling
+priest; and at last she cried, "Why, it is our dear old home where we
+used to live before we got so poor! I must be asleep and dreaming."
+
+"Well, and if you are, don't you like the dream?" asked her old friend.
+
+"Yes, yes, it's a beautiful dream; it can't be true," said Grace; and
+then she added quickly, "May we go into the house?"
+
+"Yes, if you like," he answered; and he took her by the hand, and led
+her up the steps and through the doorway.
+
+
+II.
+
+UNCLE JACOB'S GIFT.
+
+
+When Grace passed through the doorway of the red-brick house, which the
+old priest had raised in such a magical fashion out of the ground, she
+looked eagerly round the hall, and then clapped her hands and cried,
+"Why, I do believe everything is here just as it used to be. I don't
+remember all these beautiful pictures and things; but mother and father
+have often told me about them. Oh, I wish they could be here to see!"
+
+Her guide did not answer, but still holding her by the hand, he led her
+into a spacious room. It was so pretty that it almost took Grace's
+breath away. The softness of the carpets, the colours of the curtains
+and other drapery, the glittering mirrors on the walls, everything she
+saw was new and wonderful to her, and seemed like nothing so much as a
+story out of the "Arabian Nights."
+
+But before she could do anything more than give one little gasp of
+delight, the old Indian priest at her side waved his golden wand.
+
+Then a curtain which hung before a doorway at a little distance was
+suddenly looped up, and, with a light step, Grace's mother, looking rosy
+and well, came into the room.
+
+Grace gave the old man's hand a hard squeeze, but although she had a
+great longing to run straight into her mother's arms, some strange
+feeling held her back. After feasting her eyes for a moment on her
+mother's bright and happy face, she whispered, "Where's father?"
+
+Again the wonderful golden wand was raised, and then the curtain which
+had fallen into its place before the doorway was pushed hastily aside,
+and Grace saw her father.
+
+All traces of sorrow and care had left his face; he held his head high,
+his eyes shone with a glad light, and in his hands he carried a large
+book bound in white and gold.
+
+As he entered the room, Mrs. Goodman turned, and with a little cry of
+joy went to meet him. Then an expression came into her father's face
+which Grace could not understand, as silently, and with bowed head, he
+gave the beautiful book into his wife's hands.
+
+"At last!" cried Grace's mother, taking it from him, and her voice was
+broken by a sob, while the tears gathered in her eyes; but still Grace
+could see that she was very happy.
+
+Grace was very happy, too, and she could scarcely take her eyes from her
+father and mother when she heard the voice of the Indian priest speaking
+to her.
+
+"Is there anything more you would like?" the old man asked.
+
+"Oh, how kind and good you are!" cried Grace, squeezing his hand harder
+than ever; "and how ungrateful I am to forget all about you. You have
+chosen the loveliest things."
+
+"But don't you want anything for yourself?" asked her strange friend.
+"You may choose anything you like."
+
+Grace looked all round the big room, and it seemed so full of pretty
+things that at first she could not think of anything to wish for; but
+suddenly she gave a little jump and cried: "The Magic Cabinet! It isn't
+here; and I would like to have it, please."
+
+The old man looked grave; but he answered at once: "You have chosen, so
+you must have it; for in this country a choice is too serious a thing to
+be taken back. If you don't like it you must make the best of it. But
+you know you can't be at both sides of the cabinet at one and the same
+time. Come with me."
+
+Grace felt a little uncomfortable as the old man led her quickly across
+the room and through the curtained doorway by which her father and
+mother had entered.
+
+Directly the curtain fell behind them she found that they were in the
+dark; and, although she still held her friend's hand, she began to be
+afraid.
+
+"Oh, whatever is going to happen? I can't see anything at all!" she
+cried.
+
+"I am going to wave my golden wand," answered the slow and solemn voice
+of the Indian priest.
+
+As he spoke there was a vivid flash of light. Little Grace gave a
+violent start, and rubbed her eyes; and then--and then she burst into
+tears.
+
+For what do you think that sudden flash of light had shown her?
+
+It had shown her that she was back again in the shabby little home she
+had known so long; that her mother, pale and ill as ever, was just
+awakening from her sleep; that her father had returned and was lighting
+the lamp; that the little carved figure of the Indian priest was sitting
+motionless before the temple on the doors of the Magic Cabinet; and,
+showing her all this, it also showed her that she had been fast asleep
+and dreaming.
+
+It was too hard to bear. To think that the wonderful power of the magic
+priest, the beautiful fairy-like country, the dear old home, her
+mother's health and happiness, and her father's book,--to think that all
+these delightful things were only parts of a strange dream was a
+terrible disappointment to Grace, and she cried as if her heart would
+break.
+
+"Why, darling," said her father, crossing the room and lifting up the
+little girl in his strong arms, "is it as bad as all that? Can't you
+bear to part with the old cabinet, even for mother's sake?"
+
+"It's--it's not that," sobbed Grace, hiding her face on his shoulder.
+"I--I wish we could keep the cabinet; but it's not that. It's my dream."
+
+"Your dream, dear? Well, come and tell mother and me all about it."
+
+Mr. Goodman sat down in a chair beside his wife, and when she could
+control her sobs, Grace told them the whole story of her strange journey
+to the other side of the Magic Cabinet.
+
+When she had finished her father said: "Well, darling, it was a very
+pleasant dream while it lasted; but beautiful things can't last for ever
+any more than ugly ones. It is no wonder that you should have had such
+a dream after all our talk about Uncle Jacob's fancies, and the Buddhist
+priest, and the good fortune that was supposed to come to the owners of
+the Magic Cabinet."
+
+"Yes, I'm not surprised about all that, especially as Grace has always
+made-believe about that funny little priest," said Mrs. Goodman; "but I
+can't think what set her dreaming about a knob inside the cabinet."
+
+"Oh, that's not only a dream," cried Grace. "I have often seen the
+little knob, and I have pushed it and pulled it, but I can never make it
+move."
+
+"Why didn't you tell us about it? I'm sure I have never seen it," said
+her mother.
+
+"Come and show it to me now," said Mr. Goodman, putting Grace off his
+knee, and taking the lamp from the table.
+
+Grace, followed by her mother and father, crossed over to the corner in
+which the Magic Cabinet stood. The lamp was placed on a chair just in
+front of it; and then Grace, with rather a reproachful glance at the
+figure of the Indian priest, twisted round the little gold bar, and
+opened the two ebony doors.
+
+"There!" cried Grace, stooping down, "I can just see the knob; but you
+can't get low enough. You can feel it, though, if you put your hand into
+this corner."
+
+Guided by the direction in which her finger pointed, Mr. Goodman thrust
+his hand right back into the darkest corner of the cabinet; and
+presently he said, "Yes, I can certainly feel something hard and round
+like a little button. But I can't move it."
+
+As he spoke he pulled at the little knob with a force that shook the
+cabinet in its place.
+
+"Push it, father!" cried Grace eagerly. "That's what I did in my dream."
+
+Mr. Goodman obeyed, and instantly there was a low musical "twang," like
+that caused by the striking of a Jew's harp, or the quick vibration of a
+piece of watch-spring; a sharp click followed, and something was heard
+to fall on to the ebony floor of the cabinet.
+
+Mrs. Goodman held the light closer, and in a moment her husband said,
+"Here is a little secret door hinged down to the bottom of the cabinet.
+The knob must have been fixed to a spring, and in pressing it I have
+released the catch of the door, which has fallen flat, leaving a small
+square opening."
+
+"Is there anything inside?" asked Grace, in a hurried, excited whisper.
+
+"Let me see," said her father, thrusting in his hand again. "Ah, yes! A
+little drawer!"
+
+A moment later he stood upright, holding a tiny drawer of sweet-smelling
+sandal-wood in his hand.
+
+"Come along to the table," he said; "we will soon see if there is
+anything nice inside."
+
+Although it was evident that he was trying to speak carelessly, there
+was a strange eagerness in his manner; and as Mrs. Goodman set the lamp
+on the table, the light revealed a spot of bright colour on each of her
+pale cheeks; and as for Grace, she was in raptures.
+
+"I know--I _know_ it's something beautiful," she cried; "and I believe
+my priest is a magic priest after all."
+
+They all three gathered round the light, and Mr. Goodman laid the little
+secret drawer on the table.
+
+The drawer seemed to be quite full, but its contents were completely
+covered by a neatly-folded piece of Indian silk. This was quickly
+removed; and under it there lay an ivory box of delicate workmanship. It
+fitted closely into the drawer, and Mr. Goodman lifted it out with great
+care. On opening the lid he revealed a second box; and this was so
+beautiful that it drew exclamations of delight from both Grace and her
+mother. The inner box was made of gold, and it was covered with fruit
+and flowers and birds, all wrought in wonderful _repousse_ work.
+
+There was some difficulty in finding how this golden box was to be
+opened; but a little examination brought to light a secret spring, and
+at the first pressure the lid of the box flew back and the central
+treasure of the Magic Cabinet was exposed to view.
+
+Grace gave a cry of disappointment, for, lying in a snug little nest of
+pink cotton-wool, she saw only a dull, ugly-looking stone.
+
+Mrs. Goodman did not speak, but looked earnestly at her husband as he
+took the stone from its resting-place and held it close under the light.
+He took a glass from his pocket and examined it carefully for a moment,
+and then laid it back in the golden box again, and said, "It is a
+diamond, and, I believe, a very valuable one."
+
+"But it isn't a bit pretty and sparkly like the diamonds in the shop
+windows," said Grace. "What is the good of it?"
+
+"It is a wonderful magic gift," answered her father. "All that money can
+do for us, this dull-looking stone can do. It can buy all the things
+mother needs to make her strong and well."
+
+"And it can print father's book, and make us all as happy as we were in
+your dream," said her mother.
+
+Mr. Goodman now took the little sandal-wood drawer in his hand again,
+and, under another piece of Indian silk, he found a letter.
+
+"My dear, this is for you," he said; "and see--surely this must be your
+Uncle Jacob's writing?"
+
+Mrs. Goodman took the envelope from his hand, and read the inscription,
+which was written in strange, angular characters:
+
+     "TO MY NIECE."
+
+Her hand shook a little as she broke the seal and drew out a small sheet
+of paper covered closely with the same writing, and her voice was
+unsteady as she read the old man's letter aloud.
+
+     "My dear Niece,--When my will is read you may be surprised
+     to find that I have left you only one gift--my old Indian
+     cabinet. But I value it very highly, and I believe that for
+     my sake you will never willingly part with it. I am rich,
+     and if you needed money I could leave you plenty; but you
+     have enough and to spare at present, and I hope you will
+     never know the want of it. But still, I mean to make one
+     slight provision for you. Authors are not always good men
+     of business, and your husband may lose his money; and
+     however great and good his book may be, it may be rejected
+     by the world, and you may some day be poor. I shall place
+     an uncut diamond of some value in the secret drawer of the
+     old cabinet, hoping that you may find it in a time of need.
+     You may wonder why I trust to such a chance; but some wise
+     man has said that _all chance is direction which we cannot
+     see_, and I believe he is right, so I shall follow my whim.
+     If you should discover the secret at a time when you are
+     not in need of money, keep the gem uncut as a wonderful
+     work of nature; there are not many like it in the world.
+     But if the money it can bring you will be useful, do not
+     hesitate to sell it; it will fetch a high price. In any
+     case, accept it as the last gift of your affectionate
+
+     "UNCLE JACOB."
+
+There was silence in the little room for a few moments after Uncle
+Jacob's letter had been read. Mr. Goodman led his wife back to her
+chair, and Grace stood solemnly waiting for somebody to speak.
+
+At last her father looked at her with a bright smile.
+
+"We must be very thankful to Uncle Jacob for his gift," he said; "but we
+mustn't forget that it was your wonderful dream which led us to the
+discovery."
+
+"I can't help thinking that my dear Indian priest had something to do
+with it. You know he is a magic one; and he did look something like
+Uncle Jacob in my dream, you know."
+
+Her mother and father smiled; and Mr. Goodman rose briskly and said, "I
+must make haste and tell the man he needn't come to look at the
+cabinet."
+
+"Oh, father," cried Grace, who was feeling a little puzzled, "won't it
+have to go away, after all?"
+
+"No, my child," he answered; "mother will be able to get well without
+losing it now. We shall keep the Magic Cabinet."
+
+"There, I thought my Indian priest wouldn't tell a story. I asked him
+to promise not to go away and leave us, and he shook his hand most
+beautifully."
+
+Mr. Goodman bent down and kissed her; and then he left the room, and
+Grace, after taking a peep at her little Indian priest, ran and threw
+her arms lovingly round her mother's neck.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Uncle Jacob's gift was the means of making Grace's dream come true in a
+wonderful way. First of all her mother got well and the roses came back
+into her cheeks again; and then, instead of going on a magic journey
+through the back of the cabinet, the father and mother and their little
+girl went into the country, which was quite as beautiful, if not so
+strange, as the island in the shining lake. A little later the dear old
+red-brick home was bought again, and they all went to live there; Mr.
+Goodman's book was published, and it was bound in white and gold, just
+as Grace had seen it in her dream. And after it had been examined and
+admired, at Grace's suggestion it was put away under the watchful care
+of the little Indian priest in the Magic Cabinet.
+
+
+
+
+GIRLHOOD AND YOUTH.
+
+
+
+
+ONLY TIM.
+
+BY SARAH DOUDNEY.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+"I say, Bee, are you coming?"
+
+Claude Molyneux, in all the glory of fourteen summers and a suit of new
+white flannels, stands looking up with a slight frown of impatience at
+an open bay-window. It has been one of the hottest of August days; and
+now at four o'clock in the afternoon the haze of heat hangs over the
+sea, and makes a purple cloud of the distant coast. But, for all that,
+it is splendid weather; just the kind of weather that a boy likes when
+he comes to spend his holidays at the seaside; and Claude, who is an
+Indian-born boy, has no objection to a good hot summer.
+
+As he stands, hands in pockets, on the narrow pebbled path under the
+window, you cannot help admiring the grace of his slim, well-knit
+figure, and the delicate moulding of his features. The fair skin is
+sun-tanned, as a boy's skin ought to be; the eyes, large and
+heavy-lidded, are of a dark grey, not brilliant, but soft; the light,
+fine hair is cropped close to the shapely head. He is a lad that one
+likes at the first glance; and although one sees, all too plainly, that
+those chiselled lips can take a disdainful curl sometimes, one knows
+instinctively that they may always be trusted to tell the simple truth.
+Anything mean, anything sneaky, could not live in the steady light of
+those dark-grey eyes.
+
+"I say, Bee-e!" he sings out again, with a little drawl, which, however,
+does not make the tone less imperative. Master Claude is not accustomed
+to be kept waiting, and is beginning to think himself rather badly used.
+
+"Coming," cries a sweet treble; and then a head and shoulders appear
+above the row of scarlet geraniums on the window-sill.
+
+She is worth waiting for, this loitering Bee, whose thirteen years have
+given her none of the airs of premature womanhood. Her smooth round
+cheeks are tinted with the tender pink of the shell; her great eyes, of
+speedwell blue, are opened frankly and fearlessly on the whole world.
+Taken singly, not one of her features is, perhaps, quite faultless; but
+it would be hard to find a critic who could quarrel with the small face,
+framed in waves of ruddy golden hair that go tumbling down below her
+waist. You can see a freckle or two on the sides of her little nose, and
+notice that her slender hands are browned by the sea-side sun; for Bee
+is one of those lucky girls who are permitted to dabble freely in
+salt-water, and get all the benefit that briny breezes can bestow.
+
+"I couldn't come sooner," she says in a tone of apology. "We always have
+to learn a hymn on Saturdays, and I've had _such_ a bother with Dolly.
+She _would_ want to know where 'the scoffer's seat' was, and if it had a
+cushion? And it does so worry me to try to explain."
+
+"Oh, you poor thing--you must be quite worn out!" responds Claude, with
+genuine sympathy. "But make haste; you haven't got your hat on yet."
+
+Bee makes a little dive, and brings up a wide-brimmed sailor's hat with
+a blue ribbon round it. She puts it on, fastens it securely under the
+silken masses of her hair, and then declares herself to be quite ready.
+
+In the next instant the girl and boy are walking side by side along the
+shore, near enough to the sea to hear the soft rush of the tide. The
+blue eyes are turned inquiringly on Claude's face, which is just a shade
+graver than it ought to be on this delightful do-nothing day.
+
+"Bee," he says after a silence, "I don't quite approve of your being
+great friends with Crooke--Tim Crooke. What a name it is! He may be a
+good sort of fellow, but he's not in our set at all, you know."
+
+"He _is_ a good sort of fellow," she answers. "There's no doubt about
+that. Aunt Hetty likes him very much. And he's clever, Claude; he can do
+ever so many things."
+
+"I dare say he can," says Mr. Molyneux, throwing back his head and
+quickening his pace. "But you needn't have got so _very_ intimate. We
+could have done very well without him to-day."
+
+"He's Mr. Carey's pupil," remarks Bee quietly. "Aunt Hetty couldn't
+invite Mr. Carey and leave out Tim."
+
+"Well, we could have been jolly enough without Mr. Carey. It's a
+mistake, I think, to see too much of this Tim Crooke; he isn't a
+gentleman, and he oughtn't to expect us to notice him particularly."
+
+"He doesn't expect anything; we like him; he's our friend." The soft
+pink deepens on Bee's cheeks, and her ripe lips quiver a little. She
+loves Claude with all her heart, and thinks him the king of boys; but,
+for all that, she won't let him be unjust if she can help it.
+
+Claude tramps on over sand, and pebbles, and seaweed, with lips firmly
+compressed and eyes gazing steadily before him. Bee, as she glances at
+him, knows quite well what Claude feels when he looks as if his features
+had got frozen into marble. And she knows, too, that he will be
+painfully, frigidly, exasperatingly polite to her all the evening.
+
+Matters cannot go on like this, she says to herself in desperation.
+Claude arrived only yesterday, and here they are beginning his holiday
+with a dreadful disagreement. She has been counting the days that must
+pass before she sees him; writing him little letters full of sweet
+child-love and longing; wearing a pinafore over her newest frock, that
+it may be kept fresh and pretty for his critical eyes. And now he is
+here, walking by her side; and she has offended him.
+
+Is it Heaven or the instincts of her own innocent little heart that
+teach this girl tact and wisdom? She doesn't proceed to inspire Claude
+with a maddening desire to punch Tim's head, by recounting a long
+catalogue of Mr. Crooke's perfections, as a more experienced person
+would probably have done. But she draws a shade closer to her companion,
+and presently he finds a tiny brown hand upon his white flannel sleeve.
+
+"You dear old Empey," she says lovingly, "I've been wanting you for, oh,
+_such_ a long time!"
+
+The frozen face thaws; the dark grey eyes shine softly. "Empey" is her
+pet name for him, an abbreviation of "Emperor;" and he likes to hear her
+say it.
+
+"And I've wanted you, old chap," he answers, putting his arm round the
+brown-holland waist.
+
+"Empey, we always do get on well together, don't we?"
+
+"Of course we do,"--with a squeeze.
+
+"Then, just to please me, won't you be a little kind to poor Tim? He's
+not a splendid fellow like you, and he knows he never will be. I do so
+want you to forget that he's a nobody. We are all so much more
+comfortable when we don't remember things of that sort. You're not
+angry, Empey?"
+
+"Angry; no, you silly old thing!"
+
+And then she knows, without any more words, that he will grant her
+request.
+
+The little boat that Claude has hired is waiting for them at the
+landing-place, and Bee steps into it with the lightest of hearts. Aunt
+Hetty and the rest will follow in a larger boat; but Mr. Molyneux has
+resolved to row Miss Beatrice Jocelyn himself.
+
+He rows as he does everything, easily and gracefully, and Bee watches
+him with happy blue eyes as they go gliding over the warm sea. How still
+it is to-day! Beyond the grey rocks and yellow sands they can see the
+golden harvest fields full of standing sheaves, and still farther away
+there are low hills faintly outlined through the hot mist. The little
+town, with its irregularly-built terraces, looks dazzlingly white in
+the sunshine; but the church, standing on high ground, lifts a red spire
+into the hazy blue.
+
+"I could live on the sea!" says Bee ecstatically. "You don't know what
+it costs me to come out of a boat; I always want this lovely gliding
+feeling to go on for ever. Don't you?"
+
+"I like it awfully," he replies; "but then there are other things that
+I want to do by-and-by. I mean to try my hand at tiger-shooting when I
+go out to the governor."
+
+"But, oh, Empey, it'll be a long time before you have to go out to
+India!"
+
+Her red mouth drops a little at the corners, and her dimples become
+invisible. He looks at her with a gleam of mischief in his lazy eyes.
+
+"What do you call a long time?" he asks. "Just a year or two, that's
+nothing. Never mind, Bee, you'll get on very well without me."
+
+"Oh, Empey!"
+
+The great blue eyes glisten; and Claude is penitent in an instant.
+
+"You ridiculous old chap!" he says gaily. "Haven't you been told
+thousands of times that my dad is your guardian, and as good as a father
+to you? And do you suppose that I'd go to India and leave you behind?
+You're coming too, you know, and you'll sit perched up on the back of an
+elephant to see me shoot tigers. What a time we'll have out there, Bee!"
+
+"Do you really mean it?" she cries, with a rapturous face; blue eyes
+shining like sapphires, cheeks aglow with the richest rose.
+
+"Of course I do. It was all arranged, years ago, by our two governors; I
+thought Aunt Hetty had told you. But I say, Bee, when the time _does_
+come, I hope you won't make a fuss about leaving England!"
+
+"Not a bit of it," she says sturdily. "I shall like to see the Ganges,
+and the big water-lilies, and the alligators. But what's to become of
+Dolly?"
+
+"I don't know; I suppose she'll have to stay with Aunt Hetty. You belong
+to _us_, you see, old girl; so you and I shall never be parted."
+
+"No, never be parted," she echoes, looking out across the calm waters
+with eyes full of innocent joy.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+As soon as the boat grates on the shallows, two small bare-legged
+urchins rush forward to help Miss Jocelyn to land. But Bee, active and
+fearless, needs no aid at all, and reaches the pebbled beach with a
+light spring.
+
+"Is tea nearly ready, Bob?" she asks, addressing the elder lad, who
+grins with delight from ear to ear.
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"And has your mother got an immense lobster, and a big crab, and heaps
+of prawns?"
+
+"Yes, miss; whoppers, all of 'em."
+
+"That's right; the sea does give us such appetites, doesn't it, Empey? I
+hope the others will be here soon."
+
+"If they don't make haste they'll find only the shell of the lobster,"
+he answers, joining her on the shore. "I shall never be able to control
+myself if I take one look at him!"
+
+"Then don't look at him, greedy!" she cries, clapping her hands, and
+dancing round and round him, while the fisherman's children stare at her
+wonderful golden locks. "I didn't forget your weakness for lobster; Aunt
+Hetty said I might arrange it all; and we shall have a splendid tea!"
+
+He looks at her with his quiet smile, half amused, wholly loving.
+
+"Don't be whirling like a Dervish, and making yourself too hot to eat
+anything," he says, putting a stop to her evolutions. "Let's saunter
+along the beach, and sit down a bit, my Queen Bee."
+
+It is a bright, glistening beach, strewn with many-coloured pebbles and
+stones, brown, yellow, purple, crimson, and snow-white; there are empty
+shells in abundance, out of which charming pincushions can be
+constructed by skilful fingers; and, best of all, there are little heaps
+of delicate sea-weed, capable of being pressed out into tiny tree-like
+forms of coral-pink. Altogether, this strip of shore is a very treasury
+for children, and Bee can never come here without wanting to load her
+own pockets and everybody else's with heavy spoils.
+
+Claude, who has already been presented with seven shell pincushions, a
+polished pebble, and three copy-books filled with gummed sea-weed, does
+not care to add to this valuable collection of marine treasures. He
+arrests the little hand that is making a grasp at a clam, and says
+persuasively, "Stop till we come here again, Bee; don't pick up things
+this afternoon. It's so jolly to loaf about and do nothing, you know."
+
+She obeys, after casting one regretful glance at that fascinating
+scalloped shell; and they stroll on in placid contentment. From this
+part of the coast they get a wide ocean outlook, and can gaze far away
+to the faint sea-line dissolving into the sky.
+
+How calm it is! Beautiful, infinite sea, suggesting thoughts of voyages
+into unknown climes; of delightful secrets, yet unfathomed; of that
+enchanting "by-and-by" which is the children's Promised Land! The boy
+and girl are quiet for a time, dreaming their tranquil little dreams in
+the silence of utter satisfaction, while the waves wash the beach with
+the old lulling sound, and the rock-shadows are slowly lengthening on
+the sand.
+
+Meanwhile, Mrs. Drake, the fisherman's wife, is busy with her
+preparations indoors. The cottage stands in a sheltered nook, a wooden
+dwelling, coated with tar, with nets hanging outside its walls, and a
+doorstep as white as snow. A few hardy geraniums in pots brighten the
+windows, but garden there is and can be none; the pebbly shore must
+serve the children as a playground. Rosy cheeks and sound lungs give
+proof that the little Drakes are thriving in their seaside home; and the
+youngest, a baby of two, lies placidly sucking its thumb on the sunny
+beach.
+
+The boat containing Aunt Hetty and her party nears the landing, and just
+for one second Claude's brow darkens again. A sturdy lad is pulling
+strong strokes, with arms that seem almost as strong as Drake's; and the
+lad has a merry brown face and black curly hair, and wears a scarlet cap
+set jauntily on his head. It is Tim Crooke, looking provokingly at his
+ease among his aristocratic friends, and quite prepared to enjoy
+himself.
+
+Aunt Hetty, gentlest and kindest of elderly ladies, is assisted to land
+by the clergyman; while Tim takes up Dolly in his strong arms and places
+her safely on the shore. And then they all make for the cottage, Bee
+lingering in the rear with Claude, and winning him back to good-humour
+with a pleading look from the sunny blue eyes.
+
+Surely this tea in the fisherman's kitchen is a banquet fit for the
+gods! It is a happy, hungry group that gathers round the deal table;
+Bee, doing the honours, pours out tea, and has a great deal of business
+on her hands; Aunt Hetty, at the other end of the board, keeps anxious
+watch over Dolly, who consumes prawns with frightful rapidity; Tim
+Crooke beams on everybody and ministers to the wants of everybody, like
+the good-natured fellow that he is. And Claude, true to his unuttered
+promise, is kind to Tim in a pleasant, natural way.
+
+At length the meal comes to an end; lobster, prawns, and crab are all
+demolished! and the last drop is drained out of the teapot. The party
+stroll out of doors, and revel in the cool of the evening air.
+
+How is it that they begin to talk about heroes and heroism? Nobody can
+remember afterwards who started the subject; but certain it is that all,
+save Dolly, become interested in the conversation, and each has a word
+to say. Mr. Carey, the clergyman, is the leading talker; and he talks
+well, not priggishly, nor prosily, but speaks the right words in the
+right way, and wins the attention of his companions.
+
+"Charles Kingsley has told us," he says, "'that true heroism must
+involve self-sacrifice;' it is the highest form of moral beauty. And
+it's a good thing when girls and boys fall to thinking about heroes and
+heroines; the thinking begets longing to do likewise. What was it that
+you were saying last night about your favourite hero, Tim?"
+
+Tim lifts his head, and a rush of colour comes suddenly into his brown
+face.
+
+"Jim Bludso is the fellow I like," he says, speaking quickly. "Wasn't it
+grand of him to hold the bow of the _Prairie Belle_ against the bank,
+while she was burning? The passengers all got off, you know, before the
+smoke-stacks fell; only Bludso's life was lost. He let himself be burnt
+to save the rest."
+
+"It _was_ grand!" murmurs Bee, drawing a long breath.
+
+"Yes," says Claude, bringing out his words slowly; "but I like Bert
+Harte's 'Flynn of Virginia' better still. You see, it was Jim Bludso's
+own fault that the steamer caught fire. Nothing would stop him from
+running a race with the _Movestar_; and so the _Prairie Belle_ came
+tearing along the Mississippi--
+
+    "'With a nigger squat on her safety-valve,
+    And her furnace crammed, rosin and pine!'
+
+Jolly fun it must have been, but anybody could have foretold the end. As
+to Flynn, he was working on the Central Pacific Railway with his mate, a
+married man, when they found the whole concern giving way. And Flynn set
+his back against the wall in the dark drift, and held the timbers that
+were ready to fall, and sang out to Jake to run for his wife's sake."
+
+"Oh, that was beautiful!" Bee sighs, with her blue eyes full of tears.
+"Flynn was only Flynn, wasn't he? But Jake had got somebody who couldn't
+live without him."
+
+"That was just what Flynn felt, he was only Flynn," Claude replies,
+pleased that his hero is appreciated. "There was something splendidly
+deliberate in his self-sacrifice, don't you think so, sir?" he adds,
+turning to Mr. Carey.
+
+"You are quite right," Mr. Carey answers thoughtfully.
+
+Dolly comes running up to the group with shrill cries showing a little
+live crab in her small palm. A faint breeze is blowing off the sea, the
+west grows golden, and Aunt Hetty rises from her seat on the beach.
+
+"We must be going home now," she says. "Claude, dear boy, will you look
+for my shawl?"
+
+Claude obediently goes into the cottage to bring out the wraps; Mr.
+Carey hastens off to summon Drake; and Tim finds himself, for a few
+seconds, by Bee's side.
+
+"Hasn't it been a lovely afternoon?" she says. "I've been so happy,
+haven't you? Oh, Tim, Claude has told me something!"
+
+"Is it a secret?" Tim asks.
+
+"No, he didn't say so. He says it was arranged years ago that he is to
+take me out to India, by-and-by. I'm so glad, Tim; I'd go anywhere with
+Claude."
+
+The golden glow that shines on Tim's face seems to dazzle him, and he
+turns his head away from the speaker.
+
+"I'm glad that you are glad, Bee," he says quietly. And that is all.
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+Sunday morning dawns, hot and still, but clearer than the day before.
+Aunt Hetty and her nieces are sitting in the bay-windowed room, which
+has the usual furniture of seaside lodgings. They have just gone through
+their morning readings, and are ready to begin breakfast when Claude
+comes downstairs.
+
+"How is the wrist, dear boy?" Aunt Hetty asks tenderly.
+
+In jumping out of the boat last night he has managed to get a sprain,
+but is disposed to treat the matter lightly.
+
+"Oh, it will soon be well, thanks," he says, taking his place, and
+giving a smile to Bee.
+
+A little later they all set out for church, and Bee and Claude attract
+many an admiring glance as they walk together along the terraces. She
+wears her new frock, of some soft creamy stuff, and a quaint "granny"
+bonnet of ivory satin lined with pale blue; her short skirts display
+silk stockings and dainty little shoes of patent leather. Aunt Hetty,
+her tall thin figure draped with black lace, follows with Dolly, that
+little witch of eight years old, who is the pet and plague of the good
+lady's life. Other seaside visitors look after the party from Nelson
+Lodge, and discuss them freely among themselves; but they do not speak
+from personal knowledge of Lady Henrietta Jocelyn and her charges. All
+they know is that Lady Henrietta is the maiden aunt of the two girls,
+and that they were committed to her care by her brother who died in
+India.
+
+The church is large, recently built, and smells strongly of mortar and
+varnish. In winter Mr. Carey has to preach to a scanty congregation; but
+in summer, when the lodging-houses are full, there is always a goodly
+number of worshippers.
+
+The Jocelyns, whose home is in town, are accustomed to attend St.
+George's, Hanover Square, and never feel perfectly comfortable in this
+seaside church, which is, as Bee says, "so dreadfully new, and so
+unfurnished." She wishes they could all worship out of doors, among the
+rocks, with the blue sea murmuring near them; and yet she likes to hear
+Tim's voice, as he stands among the other surpliced boys and leads the
+singing.
+
+Not that Tim is by any means an ideal chorister. His surplice makes his
+brown skin look browner, and his curly head blacker than ever; and there
+is not a heavenly expression in his quick dark eyes. He is not in the
+least like one of those saintly boys we read of sometimes, who sing and
+lift their glances upward, and pass gently and speedily away from this
+wicked world. Judging from Tim's robust appearance he has many a year of
+earthly life before him, and many a hot battle to fight with the flesh
+and the devil.
+
+But it is a marvellous voice that comes from the lad's massive throat; a
+voice that goes up like a lark's song, carrying heavy hearts to higher
+regions with its notes. In future days there are some who will remember
+that morning's anthem, which Tim sings with all his triumphant power and
+thrilling sweetness. A few fishermen, standing just within the doors,
+listen entranced, and one rugged old fellow puts up a hard hand to hide
+his eyes.
+
+"The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their
+voice; the floods lift up their waves.
+
+"The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than
+the mighty waves of the sea.
+
+"Thy testimonies are very sure; holiness becometh Thine house, O Lord,
+for ever."
+
+The service comes to an end, and Aunt Hetty and her children walk
+homeward along the terraces, under a glaring sun. The sea is still calm,
+but a light breeze is stirring, creeping off the water and breathing
+across the hot sand and shingle. Bee gives a deep sigh of satisfaction
+as the zephyr kisses her rosy cheeks.
+
+"It's going to be just a little cooler, Empey," she says, as they draw
+near Nelson Lodge.
+
+"Yes; it must be jolly on the sea to-day," he remarks, following a
+little cutter with longing eyes.
+
+When the midday meal is ended, Aunt Hetty repairs to the sofa to read
+Jeremy Taylor; and Dolly, having discovered an illustrated copy of the
+"Pilgrim's Progress," is silently gloating over a picture of Apollyon,
+dragon-winged, with smoke coming out of his nostrils. For fifteen or
+twenty minutes Claude and Bee whisper by the open window, and then a
+gentle sound from the sofa tells them that good Jeremy has lulled Aunt
+Hetty to repose.
+
+Claude gives Bee an expressive glance which plainly says, "Come along."
+Dolly's back is turned towards them; moreover, she has just lighted upon
+a whole family of fiends, and cannot take her eyes off the book. So the
+pair slip out of the room unheard and unseen, and gain the beach without
+let or hindrance.
+
+They shun the pier, and foot it briskly along the shore till they have
+left most of the promenaders behind. On and on they go till they get to
+the low rocks, and the smooth yellow sands strewn with mussel and cockle
+shells; and then they sit down to rest, and listen to the music of the
+tide.
+
+"You must take me to White Cove one day, Empey," says Bee, after a
+pause. "There are the most lovely shells to be found there, and agates,
+and things. Mr. Carey said that somebody once picked up a bit of amber
+there."
+
+"I could row you there at once," returns Claude, "if it wasn't for this
+wrist of mine."
+
+"Oh, but it's Sunday; Aunt Hetty wouldn't like us to go."
+
+"She wouldn't mind it if I reasoned with her," responds Mr. Molyneux
+with perfect confidence in his own powers of argument. "All those little
+prejudices of hers could soon be got rid of."
+
+"Drake says it's rather dangerous near White Cove," observes Bee after
+another silence; "because of all the sunken rocks, you know."
+
+"No, I don't know: I've never been there. But you've set me longing to
+see the place, old chap."
+
+"Oh, it's lovely!" she cries, with enthusiasm. "Thousands and thousands
+of sea-birds sit on the cliffs; and there are lots of little caves, all
+hung with silky green sea-weeds, so quiet and cool."
+
+Claude leans back against the low rock behind him, and looks out across
+the sea with eyes half-closed. The horizon line is sharp and clear
+to-day; the blue of the sky meets, but does not mingle with the deeper
+blue of the ocean; a few white sails can be distinctly seen. Now and
+then a gull flashes silvery wings in the sunshine, and its cry comes
+wailing across the water to the shore.
+
+"Why, there's Tim!" says Bee, pointing to a broad-shouldered figure
+moving leisurely along the sand.
+
+He hears the well-known voice, and turns instantly.
+
+"Well, he may make himself useful to-day," remarks Claude, with a sudden
+inspiration. "I daresay he'll be glad enough to row to the cove if we
+ask him."
+
+Tim is more than glad, he is delighted to be included in the plans of
+Claude and Bee. To tell the truth, Sunday afternoon is generally rather
+a lonesome time to Tim Crooke. He has no vocation for Sunday-school
+teaching, and always feels intensely grateful to Mr. Carey for not
+bothering him to take a class. The little vicarage is, however, a dreary
+house when master and servants are out; and Tim is usually to be found
+wandering on the shore till the hour for tea.
+
+"Bill Drake is down yonder," says Tim, waving his hand towards a block
+of stone some distance off. "And he's got a little boat, a battered old
+thing, but----"
+
+"Any old thing will do," interrupts Claude, rising eagerly. "We are not
+going to show off in front of the pier, you know; we only want to get
+away to White Cove and enjoy ourselves. Do you know the place, Crooke?"
+
+"Yes, very well. I've been there several times with Mr. Carey; it's a
+wonderful place for gulls. I suppose there are thousands of them."
+
+"Well, come along," cries Claude; and Bee springs gladly to her feet. It
+delights her to see the magnificent Empey growing so friendly with that
+good old Tim, and as she trips on, leaving dainty footprints on the
+sands, her mind is busy with plans for the coming days. "This is only
+the beginning of pleasures," she says to herself; the holidays will last
+a long time, and they can enjoy many excursions about the coast. It is
+all going to be perfectly jolly, now that Claude has really consented to
+accept Tim; for Tim is so good-natured and useful that she hardly knows
+what they would do without him.
+
+The little boat is a battered old thing indeed, but nobody is inclined
+to find fault with it. Bill Drake is quite ready to let the young
+gentleman have his way; Bee steps in lightly enough, and seats herself;
+the lads follow, and then Tim pushes off, leaving Bill standing grinning
+on the shore.
+
+A happy girl is Bee Jocelyn as the boat glides on, and the fresh air
+fans her face. She has put on her broad-brimmed hat again; and the light
+breeze lifts her bright silky tresses, and spreads them round her head
+like a golden veil. She dips one little hand in the water--the beautiful
+sunny water that is as green as an emerald when you look deep into its
+depths; and then she trails her fingers in the sea and smiles at Claude.
+
+"Oh, Empey," she says, "how nice it would be if one of Undine's
+sea-relations were to put a coral necklace, all red and glittering, into
+my hand!"
+
+"Or some strings of pearls," suggests Tim.
+
+"She will have a set of pearls one day," remarks Claude, in that quiet
+tone of his. "They were my mother's, and they are waiting in India for
+Bee."
+
+There is an unwonted softness in Tim's black eyes. He is a
+stout-hearted, matter-of-fact lad, people say, not given to dreaming;
+and yet he is seeing visions this afternoon. He sees Bee, not in her
+sailor's hat and girlish frock, but in white robes, with all her wealth
+of hair plaited up, and the pearls glistening on her neck. He sees the
+merry face grown graver, yet lovelier than ever; and then he tries to
+picture her home in that far-off land that he will never behold; a land
+of dark faces, and temples, and palms, and flowers.
+
+And Claude will be with her always; what a beautiful poetical life these
+two will live together! All the poetry is for them, and all the prose
+for Tim. His thoughts don't shape themselves into these very words,
+perhaps; but he does certainly feel that it is a dull path which lies
+before Tim Crooke.
+
+While he dreams, he pulls as steadily as usual, and they are drawing
+nearer and nearer to the little cove. Soon they gain a full view of
+those cliffs where the sea-birds sit, tier upon tier, like spectators in
+a circus, and the calm air is filled with strange cries. Bee claps her
+hands in delight; the sight is so novel, and the birds that have taken
+wing sweep so gracefully around their rocky haunts, that there is a
+charm, past explaining, in the whole scene.
+
+Meanwhile the tide is rising fast and floats the boat onward to White
+Cove. They are making for a landing-place just at the foot of the
+sea-birds' cliff, and Tim pulls cautiously, telling Claude to keep a
+sharp look-out for the rocks that lie treacherously hiding under the
+flood.
+
+"There's the Chair!" cries Bee suddenly. "Look, Empey, we are quite
+close to it! It was Mr. Carey who gave it that name, because you see
+it's exactly like a chair, and it has a seat, and a little ledge where
+your feet may rest. Mr. Carey got up there once; it's quite easy to
+climb."
+
+"At high water the tide comes almost up to the footstool of the Chair,"
+says Tim. "I've noticed it standing up out of the sea with a bird or two
+perched on its seat. It looks very funny then, when all the rocks near
+it are quite covered."
+
+"It really is curious," Claude is beginning to say, when there is a bump
+and a terrible grating noise. The boat has struck against one of those
+traitorous rocks, and her rotten planks have given way. Long before they
+can reach the landing-place she will be full of water; there is already
+a stream flowing in through the rent in her side, and Tim, quiet and
+cool, takes in every detail of the case before Claude has begun fully to
+realise their condition. Without a moment's hesitation he pulls straight
+towards the little strip of sand that is to be seen at the base of the
+Chair.
+
+"Quick, Claude," he says in decided tones, "the wind is rising, and the
+tide is coming in fast. You must get Bee up into the Chair, and you'll
+have to follow her; although there's hardly room for two."
+
+"Do you mean that we shall have to stay up there till the tide goes
+out?" asks Claude. "Why, it's absurd! Is there no other way to----"
+
+"There _is_ no other way to save your lives, so far as I can see. Now
+don't lose time; the Chair isn't so easy to climb, after all. There are
+little dents in the rock where your toes may go, but no projections
+anywhere. It's just a smooth block of stone."
+
+Poor Bee, who knows that Tim must have good reasons for being serious,
+tries to obey him without delay. But how could she ever have fancied
+that this dreadful rock was easy to climb! It is nearly as slippery as
+glass, and affords so little hold for hands or feet that she is almost
+in despair. The boys encourage her with their voices; Claude is
+scrambling up after her--not without difficulty, however, for his
+sprained wrist gives him many a sharp twinge. And then at last, after
+terrible efforts, the "footstool" ledge is gained, and Bee drags herself
+up to the seat of the chair.
+
+But what a seat it is! Merely a niche which looks as if it had been
+scooped out of the solid stone and furnished with a narrow shelf. How
+will it be possible for her to make herself very small, and leave space
+for Claude?
+
+Even in these fearful moments she finds herself thinking of the eleven
+swan princes in the fairy tale, and that little rock in mid ocean on
+which they stood crowded together when the sun went down. Claude is
+here, squeezed into the narrow niche by her side, and he is calling out
+to Tim, down below.
+
+"Come up, Tim," he cries, and there is a ring of agony in his voice now.
+
+But Tim's answer reaches them, clear and loud, above the roar of the
+advancing tide.
+
+"I shall not come; there isn't room for three. You know that well
+enough."
+
+"But, Tim, what will you do? I'll come down, and give you my place."
+
+"Stay where you are," Tim shouts sternly. "You've got Bee to take care
+of. And there's a heavy sea rolling in, she'll have to sit fast."
+
+As Tim speaks the flood is surging up to his knees, and the wind, too,
+is rising higher and higher. All around him the waves are foaming over
+the sunken rocks, and the sea-thunder grows louder and more terrible
+every moment.
+
+"I'll come down," cries Claude, making a desperate movement to descend.
+"You sha'n't stop there and drown alone! Do you think I'll be such a
+hound as to let you?"
+
+But Bee with all her strength, holds him back. "Empey, _dear_ Empey,"
+she moans, "stay for my sake!"
+
+"I'll take my chance," Tim sings out cheerily. "I can swim; I mean to
+try for the landing-place."
+
+"You're mad; the tide will dash you on the rocks!" groans Claude, in
+despair. And then, so slight is his foothold that he nearly loses his
+balance in looking downward; and Bee, clinging to him, screams with
+terror.
+
+"I can't bear it!" he says wildly.
+
+How fast the waters rise! Great waves are breaking against the sides of
+the Chair, and leaping up nearer and nearer to the ledge whereon the
+pair support their feet. Once more Claude calls to Tim, passionately,
+almost fiercely,--
+
+"I'll never forgive myself if you are lost! Tim, Tim, where are you?"
+
+And the clear voice comes up, somewhat faintly, from below. "It's all
+right. God bless you and Bee."
+
+A mighty billow flings its cloud of foam over the faces of Claude and
+the shrinking girl by his side, and blinds them with salt spray. But
+high as the tide is, the Chair is still above its reach, and although
+the wave may sprinkle them, it cannot swallow them up. Only they are
+deafened as well as blinded, and Bee feels that she is losing her
+senses. Surely her brain is wandering, else she could never hear the
+notes of the anthem again, and Tim's voice singing the words of the old
+psalm in such exulting tones,--
+
+"The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than
+the mighty waves of the sea."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When night is closing over the little watering-place there are
+rejoicings and lamentations in Nelson Lodge. Aunt Hetty's heart is full
+of gratitude; Claude and Bee brought safely home by old Drake, have
+fallen asleep at last in their rooms, while she steals from chamber to
+chamber to look first at one tired young face and then at the other. But
+the tears hang on Claude's lashes as he sleeps; and more than once Bee
+moves restlessly on her pillow and murmurs Tim's name.
+
+The wind, that has been blowing hard all through the night, subsides
+soon after sunrise. Clouds clear away from the east, and the golden
+morning shines upon the creamy cliffs of White Cove. Just at the foot of
+one of the low rocks lies Tim; his brown face turned up to the sky, and
+his curly hair matted with sea-weed. His life-work is done.
+
+Only Tim;--yes, Master Claude; but what would the world be without such
+souls as Tim's? Fine manners, fine speech, and fine clothes, of these he
+had none, but he had what glorifies the earth's greatest sons, he had
+what the angels rank highly and what God loves, a brave, true, unselfish
+heart.
+
+
+
+
+SMITH'S SISTER.
+
+_A STORY BY A BOY ABOUT A GIRL._
+
+BY ROBERT OVERTON.
+
+
+Before I tell you the story about Smith's sister in particular (said
+Stanislaus Yarrow), I wish to make a few remarks about sisters in
+general.
+
+Sisters are of two kinds--your own and other fellows'. There are
+boys--especially older ones--who consider their own sisters worse than
+other fellows' sisters.
+
+("Hear, hear," cried Martin Abbott, who was strongly suspected of having
+fallen in love with Dr. Audlem's maiden aunt, who was not much more than
+forty).
+
+But the general opinion amongst boys is that all sisters--all girls, in
+fact--are muffs and nuisances.
+
+("So they are," agreed a number of voices cordially).
+
+I thought so myself once. But Smith's sister taught me to take a higher
+view of girls. I admit that they have defects--they can't help 'em.
+There are times when I doubt if even boys are perfect. I freely admit
+that there is a certain amount of idiocy in the ways and manners of
+girls in general. Far be it from me to deny that they squeak and squeal
+when there is no occasion for squeaking and squealing. There is no use
+in denying that they are afraid of mice. Even Smith's sister visibly
+shuddered when I offered to give her my biggest piebald rat, to be her
+very own for ever. But we ought to be charitable and try to overlook
+these things, for, as I said just now, they can't help 'em.
+
+What I insist upon is that there's real grit in girls all the same.
+This is how I work it out: Smith's sister was a brick--Smith's sister is
+a girl--therefore, as one girl can be a brick, so can other girls, other
+sisters, be bricks.
+
+Now for my true yarn. To separate the circumstances of the story from
+the story itself, I will first give you the circumstances.
+
+Smith and I lived next door to each other, and were close chums,
+especially at intervals. He was a very generous chap--he'd give a friend
+anything he'd got. When he was laid low with illness last summer, I
+slipped into his bedroom by way of the verandah, to have a look at him,
+and he gave me the scarlet fever. He was such a very generous chap that
+he never wanted to keep anything all to himself. The fever stayed with
+both of us as long as it could, and left us a good deal weaker than it
+found us. Finding us both in need of a long and thorough change, Smith's
+father and mine put their heads together, and finally decided to send us
+to North Wales for the rest of the summer and the autumn. The idea was
+promptly carried out.
+
+They didn't, strictly speaking, "send" us, for they came with us. In
+fact, it was quite a carriage-ful of us that steamed away north-west
+from Paddington--namely, Smith, myself, Smith's father and mother, my
+father and mother, a number of boxes, portmanteaux, and parcels, and
+Smith's sister. I put her last because at the time she was last in my
+estimation.
+
+We had a lovely journey, to a lovely little out-of-the-way and
+out-of-the-world station, which was spelt with all consonants, and
+pronounced with three sneezes, a cough and two gasps. From the station
+we had a long drive to the remote farmhouse in which our fathers had
+taken apartments.
+
+In this delicious old farmhouse we soon made ourselves--Smith and
+I--quite at home. It was in a beautiful valley. Tremendous hills rose
+all round it. On the very tops of some of the mountains there was snow
+almost all the year round. Glens, and brooks, and streams, and
+waterfalls simply abounded.
+
+After a fortnight our two fathers had to return to London, leaving
+behind them our mothers, us, and Smith's sister.
+
+Oh, what a time we had then! Smith shot me by accident in the leg with
+the farmer's gun--Smith himself got almost drowned in two different
+streams, and was once carried over a waterfall, and dashed against the
+stones. On all three occasions he was getting black in the face when
+pulled out. I fell down a precipice in the mountains, and was rescued
+with the greatest difficulty. On another occasion a neighbouring farmer
+caught us trespassing, and thrashed us with a stick till he was too
+tired to hold it any longer. Smith got bitten by a dog supposed to be
+mad, and a horse kicked me in the stomach.
+
+All was gaiety and excitement. Ah! when shall we have such times again?
+We made inquiries as to whether we were likely to catch scarlet fever a
+second time.
+
+Now Smith's sister screamed at our accidents; she was afraid to join us
+in any of our adventures. She was as old as myself, and only a year
+younger than Smith, but as timid as a chicken--or so we thought her, for
+so she seemed. We tried at first to encourage her, to bring her out a
+little; but it was no good--we just had to leave her to herself.
+
+"She hasn't pluck enough to come with us," Smith used to say as we set
+off on our rambles--"let her stop at home and play with the fowls."
+
+You must understand that we didn't dislike her--we simply despised her.
+I think contempt is worse than dislike--at all events, it is harder to
+bear. Week after week passed away, till at length the end of September
+approached. In a few days we were to go home again.
+
+Now high as all the hills were, there was one that towered above the
+others. From the very first, Smith and I had been warned not to attempt
+to scale this monarch of the mountains, whose crown was sometimes
+visible, sometimes hidden in the clouds. Being warned not to do it, we
+naturally wanted to do it. We had made, in fact, several tries, but had
+always been frustrated. Once or twice Mr. Griffiths--the farmer at
+whose house we were staying--caught us starting, and turned us back.
+
+"Up towards the top of that mountain," he said, on the last occasion,
+"is a place so difficult of access, except by one way, that it is called
+the 'Eagles' Home.' Lives have been lost there. The hill is
+dangerous--the clefts are steep and deep. Leave it alone. There are
+plenty of other hills to climb that are not so dangerous."
+
+That reference to the Eagles' Home was more than we could stand. We
+could make out the very spot he meant. Fancy being up there with the
+eagles near the sky--fancy birds-nesting in the clouds!
+
+"Yarrow," said Smith firmly, "we must do it."
+
+"Or perish in the attempt," I agreed recklessly, quoting from a book I'd
+read.
+
+What we meant was, of course, that before our visit ended we must climb
+that hill, at all events as high as the Eagles' Home.
+
+Our approaching return to London left us with no time to lose. We had
+only four clear days before us.
+
+"We'll make the ascent immediately after dinner to-morrow," said Smith.
+
+"Right you are," replied I.
+
+The next day arrived. Dinner was always over soon after one at the
+farmhouse, and by two o'clock, having slipped quietly and secretly off,
+we were beginning our climb up the hillside. For more than an hour we
+made slow but easy progress, taking a rest every now and then for a
+minute or two. We must have got up a considerable distance, but neither
+the mountain-top nor the Eagles' Home seemed much nearer. On and up we
+trudged, walking faster and determined to take no more rests. We noticed
+how much colder it was, and cast uneasy glances at the dipping sun.
+
+We met a shepherd going down, and stopped him to ask some questions. He
+told us that there was an easy way and a hard way to reach the Eagles'
+Home. The easy way was to follow the path worn up the hill to the left.
+That would take us _above_ the spot. Still following the path as it
+curved round to the right, we should find a comparatively easy way down
+to the "home of the eagles," unless we lost the road, and tumbled down
+one of the many steep declivities.
+
+"Which was the hard way?" we asked.
+
+With a smile, he pointed straight up the mountain-side. It wasn't far
+that way, he said--only that way would take us farther than we wanted to
+go. We looked up the frowning pathless mountain--and knew what he meant.
+We must take the safer and longer way.
+
+"Not that we're _afraid_ of the other," said Smith.
+
+"Of course not," I replied.
+
+In vain the shepherd tried to dissuade us from going any further in the
+failing light: in vain he told us of the dangers we should run. We
+thanked him, put him off with some excuse about going "a little"
+further, and turned resolutely on up the "path" he had pointed us to. It
+was by no means the sort of path we were accustomed to.
+
+On and on and on--I don't know how far we went. But the farther we went
+the more silent we became. Each knew the other knew that he was getting
+more and more uneasy at every step. Each knew the other wasn't going to
+be the first to admit that he was funky.
+
+It grew so awfully cold. It became so awfully dark.
+
+"The moon will be up by-and-by," Smith said.
+
+"Yes," said I; "we shall be all right then. What's this?"
+
+It was too dark to see it, but we felt it in our faces. We put our hands
+on our sleeves and felt it there.
+
+Snow!
+
+We both gave in then, and funked it without disguise. We turned to go
+down, to get home. We tried at first to disbelieve it, but it wasn't
+long before we both gave up the pretence.
+
+"We're lost!" we cried together.
+
+That was just our position. In the cold, dark night, in the midst of a
+rapidly-rising storm and fast-falling snow, we were lost on the wild
+Welsh mountains.
+
+We stumbled about. For a long time--I don't know how long, but it was a
+long time--we stumbled about. That is the only expression I can use, for
+soon we didn't know whether we were moving up or down, left or right. We
+were so numbed, so bewildered. It was so cold up there, though October
+had not yet set in, that we had a vague idea that if we didn't keep on
+moving we should be frozen still, meeting the fate of many other
+mountaineers.
+
+You must bear in mind that we had nothing to eat, nothing to drink, and
+only our summer clothes on. Neither of us had a watch, so we could only
+judge what the time was. Smith's hope that the moon would soon rise
+hadn't been realised, for everything above was as dark and black as
+everything was beneath.
+
+At last a frightful thing happened. Our feet slipped at the same moment,
+and the next moment we were both falling through space. My previous slip
+down a precipice was nothing compared with that awful fall in the
+darkness. Only one thing saved us. Before we struck the ground, we
+managed to break the full force of our fall by grasping the roots and
+branches of some low-growing shrubs and bushes which we felt without
+seeing. We slipped then less rapidly from hold to hold, until, with a
+thud, we struck the earth. It seemed more like the earth striking us.
+
+Smith gave a loud scream of pain--then all was silent.
+
+Smith fainted. I cried. Smith recovered and cried. I left off crying,
+and took his turn at fainting. There's nothing like telling the truth.
+We both prayed. I won't tell you about that, because praying is a thing
+to _do_, not to talk about.
+
+We didn't move about any more. That fall proved that moving about was
+too dangerous. Poor old Smith _couldn't_ move. He couldn't even stand
+up. He tried to once and sank down again with a yell. He had sprained
+his ankle.
+
+Please imagine for a moment that this adventure is being played on the
+stage, and let the curtain fall. Now imagine the curtain raised again.
+
+In the meantime, the storm has died down. The winds are not howling
+now, the snow is not falling. The heavens above us are not so black we
+can see parts of the mountain that drops from our feet into the deep
+invisible valley below. We can see enough to make out where we are. We
+are in the Eagles' Home. Our ambition has been realised--but in what a
+way! We reached the spot neither by the pathway nor up the rugged
+steep--we rolled from the top; we came through the air with the
+snowflakes.
+
+Pretty snowflakes! Smith is hopelessly crippled, and I--the other
+snowflake--am simply a living collection of bumps and bruises. We must
+spend the rest of the bleak night strung up on this dizzy height. We
+must wait till the morning--if we can live through the night.
+
+What's that, down there--far away down there?
+
+A light! a number of lights. They're moving--moving up. They've reached
+the spot where we met the shepherd who told us of the two ways.
+
+They've stopped. Hark! What's that?
+
+A shout--a hail--loud and long continued, as though a lot of people are
+calling together.
+
+Hurrah! We're saved. The farmer has turned out a rescue party to find
+and save us. Hurrah!
+
+Gathering all my strength--all I have left--I answer the hail. Smith
+joins me as well as he can. Once, twice, thrice we shout. We catch the
+distant cry that tells us we have been heard.
+
+For a minute the lights are stationary. Then--their bearers sending up
+another great hail as though to tell us they know where we are and are
+coming--we see the lanterns flashing forward up the track which leads
+above our heads, and then round to the Eagles' Home. Mr. Griffiths, who
+knows the hills as well as he knows his own farm lands, has told them
+where we are from the direction of our frantic voices.
+
+So cheer up, Smith--they're coming.
+
+But they'll be such a long time coming--and we're so cold and numbed.
+Smith is fainting again. So am I, I'm afraid--you must remember I am
+knocked about. It will be such a long time before the coming help
+reaches us.
+
+Will it? Then what's that solitary light stealing up the jagged steep
+below us? Who is it coming to us by the "hard" way, straight up the
+precipitous mountain-side? It must be Griffiths--he's crawling up the
+rough boulders--he's clinging hold of roots and branches, swinging
+himself over the clefts. The shepherd said it couldn't be done--but
+Griffiths is doing it. How torn his hands must be!
+
+I can't be quite fainting, because I can see that Griffiths' lantern is
+coming nearer and nearer.
+
+Listen! I can hear his voice--only it sounds such a weak voice. That is
+because I am getting so weak now myself, though I manage to call back,
+that Griffiths may know just where we are....
+
+Griffiths has reached us. Griffiths is attending to poor old Smith. Now
+he's got his arm round me. Griffiths is pouring a cordial down my throat
+that brings life back into me. I can feel my heart beating again. I'm
+better now. I'll shake Griffiths by the hand. I dare say I shall
+by-and-by. But this is the hand of SMITH'S SISTER!
+
+
+The strain of this theatrical style, and of the present tense, is more
+than I can stand any longer, so I hope it is quite clear to you what had
+happened. Just a few words to sum up.
+
+When the rescue party formed by Mr. Griffiths--as soon as it was obvious
+that Smith and I had lost ourselves--set out, Smith's sister set out
+with them. Griffiths ordered her back. She went back, collared a lantern
+and a flask all to herself (in view of the party separating--what a
+thoughtful girl!), followed and rejoined them. When they stopped and
+halloaed to find whereabouts we were, he ordered her back again, but not
+until she had heard the hasty consultation which resulted in the party
+sticking to the safer way to us. She heard about the "two ways," and she
+dared the one that everybody else was afraid of. The ascent up the
+mountain's face was suggested, but only Smith's sister had the pluck to
+make it. This was the girl we had scorned and laughed at. This was the
+girl whom we had told to stop at home and play with the chickens!
+
+About an hour after she reached us with the "first help" that may have
+saved our lives, we saw the lights of Griffith's party on the crest
+above us. We exchanged shouts, and they let down a rope at once, and
+hauled us up. Long before this, Smith's sister had bound up his injured
+ankle neatly and lightly with her own handkerchief and our
+handkerchiefs.
+
+You should have seen the farmer's face--and, indeed, the faces of all
+the others too--when they realised how she had reached us.
+
+It is all very well for her to say that she didn't know what she was
+doing--that she couldn't have done in the light what she did in the
+dark. All I am concerned with is the fact that she did do what I have
+told you she did.
+
+Referring to the proposition I laid down soon after I started--about
+there being real grit in girls after all--you will understand what I
+meant when I wind up my yarn with the familiar quotation, Q. E. D.
+
+
+
+
+THE COLONEL'S BOY.
+
+BY H. HERVEY.
+
+
+Marjorie had never got on well with her brother's guardian. He was a
+bachelor, stern and autocratic, and with no admiration for woman's ways,
+and she instinctively felt that he did not understand her.
+
+His love for Miles Weyburne, the son of a brother officer who had fallen
+in a skirmish with an Indian frontier tribe thirteen years ago, was a
+thing recognised and beyond question.
+
+Even at the age of ten the boy's likeness to his father had been
+remarkable. He had the same dark, earnest eyes, the same frank, winning
+manner, the same eager enthusiasm; he was soon to develop, to the secret
+pride of his guardian, the same keen interest in his profession, with a
+soundness of judgment and a fearless self-reliance peculiarly his own.
+
+He had gained his star after scarcely a year's service, and had then got
+an exchange into his guardian's regiment.
+
+Colonel Alleson held the command of a midland regimental district. He
+had the reputation of being somewhat of a martinet, and was not
+altogether popular with his men.
+
+Marjorie generally spent her holidays with her aunt in the town, and the
+Colonel occasionally went to see her; but he was nervous and
+constrained, with little to say for himself, and Marjorie always did her
+best to show to a disadvantage when he was there. "He's such a crabby
+old thing," she would say, when Miles grew enthusiastic over the grave,
+taciturn officer,--"besides, he hates girls, you know he does, and I'm
+not going to knuckle under to him." Her brother had explained that the
+Colonel's ideas were old-fashioned, so she sometimes talked slang on
+purpose to shock him. She listened to his abrupt, awkward sentences with
+a half listless, half criticising air. She was a typical school-girl at
+the most characteristic age,--quick to resent, impatient of control,
+straightforward almost to rudeness. The Colonel might be a father to her
+brother--he never could be to her. She often thought about her father
+and mentally contrasted the two: she thought, too, though less often, of
+the mother who had died the very day that that father had fallen in
+action, when she herself was little more than a year old.
+
+Miles had been spending his leave with his aunt, and the day before his
+return to Ireland to rejoin the battalion, he biked over to the barracks
+in company with his sister to say good-bye to his guardian.
+
+"I suppose this is another of the Colonel's fads," Marjorie remarked,
+glancing at the notice board as she got off her bicycle outside the
+gates. "What an old fuss he is, Miles."
+
+"Has he been giving you a lesson in manners?"
+
+"Not he." She tossed back her wavy, golden-brown hair as she spoke. "I
+should like to see him try it on."
+
+Miles gave a short little laugh.
+
+"He got into an awful rage the other day because somebody came through
+here on a bicycle. How are you to read the notice all that way off?"
+
+Miles was not listening to her. Hearing the sound of wheels, he had
+turned round and caught sight of the Colonel's dog-cart. Marjorie
+glanced mischievously at him, and just as the Colonel entered the
+gateway, she deliberately mounted her bicycle and rode through before
+his eyes. There was just room for her to pass. The Colonel reined in,
+and looked sternly round. "Stop!" he said. Marjorie obeyed. Wheeling her
+bicycle forward, she said in her politest manner:
+
+"I beg your pardon. Did you want me?"
+
+"This is quite contrary to regulations."
+
+"Yes, I know," she answered, looking straight at him. "I read the
+notice, but I don't see the sense of it."
+
+There were one or two soldiers standing near, and they exchanged glances
+and smiled. Miles coloured up with shame and vexation. The Colonel gave
+the reins to his groom and got down without another word. He held out
+his hand to Miles as the dog-cart passed on.
+
+"I want to speak to you," he said shortly, and he walked on in front of
+them.
+
+"I hope I shall see you again, Miles," he began, as they ascended the
+steps leading to his quarters. "I have only a few minutes to spare now.
+Come up this evening, will you?"
+
+"Yes, Colonel."
+
+Marjorie moved towards the door. The colour mounted to her cheeks as the
+Colonel stepped forward to open it for her. Miles, feeling that he ought
+to say something, waited behind a minute.
+
+"I'm sorry about--about this," he said. "I don't understand it."
+
+"I do, perfectly--well, good-bye, my boy."
+
+His grave, stern face softened wonderfully as he grasped Miles' hand.
+
+"What an old crosspatch he is," began Marjorie as her brother came up
+with her. "I daren't for the life of me ride through there again. Did
+you see, Miles, he was quite white with rage when I cheeked him? Those
+Tommies thought it awful sport."
+
+"What a little ass you are," said Miles crossly, "to make all that row
+before the men."
+
+Marjorie looked away. "It served him jolly well right," she said,
+pedalling faster.
+
+They rode home the rest of the way in silence.
+
+
+Miles was away with his battalion at the front, and Marjorie was
+spending a fortnight of the Christmas holidays with a school friend at
+Eastbourne. The two girls were hurrying down the esplanade together one
+bright, frosty morning in January when Marjorie suddenly found herself
+face to face with the Colonel. His eyes were bent down, and he passed
+without recognising her. With a few hurried words to her chum, she ran
+after him.
+
+"How do you do, Colonel? I didn't know you were here."
+
+He started as she addressed him. "I only came yesterday," he said; "I
+have got a few days' leave."
+
+"Did you hear from Miles last mail? I did."
+
+"Yes. He has been very regular so far."
+
+"You must miss him awfully. Are you going this way?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I'll come a little way with you, if I may; I wanted to say
+something."
+
+Putting her hands into her jacket pockets, she looked very gravely at
+him.
+
+"I am sorry I was rude that day I came into the Barracks," she said
+hurriedly. "I have been thinking about it. It was horrid of me, when the
+soldiers were there. Will you forgive me?"
+
+"Certainly," he said nervously, putting his hands behind him, and
+walking faster.
+
+"You see, I want to be friends with you," she added frankly, "because of
+Miles. He thinks such a lot of you--the dear boy; good-bye."
+
+Her dark eyes, generally so mocking and mischievous, had grown suddenly
+earnest, and his heart warmed towards her, as he held out his hand.
+
+"Good-bye, Marjorie," he said, "you are very much alike, you and Miles."
+
+"Are we?" she said simply, flushing a little. "I didn't know. I am
+glad."
+
+She walked back to her chum with a beating heart. "He's not so bad," she
+said to herself. "I wish he liked girls."
+
+
+Spion Kop had been abandoned, and the British Army was in orderly
+retreat, when Miles found himself cut off with the remnant of his
+company, by the enemy. The death of his captain had left him in command,
+and realising his responsibility, he made up his mind to act promptly.
+"We are cut off, men," he explained briefly to his soldiers; "will you
+hoist the white flag, or trust to me to bring you through?"
+
+"No surrender, and we stand by you, sir," answered the serjeant major
+gruffly. "Is it agreed, boys?"
+
+There was a general assent.
+
+It was a gallant deed, that desperate dash to rejoin the division,
+though accomplished at a terrible cost. Miles, leading the forlorn hope,
+was soon to pay the price of his daring. They were all but through when
+he fell, shot by a chance bullet.
+
+An hour later his battered troops came up with the British forces. Three
+or four stragglers dropped into camp as the serjeant major was making
+his report.
+
+"Ah!" said the colonel, expressively--"you got through?"
+
+"Yes, sir, beastly hard work, too."
+
+"Who brought you?"
+
+"Lieutenant Weyburne, sir."
+
+"I thought so. He's the kind of fellow for that sort of thing. Is he
+in?"
+
+"He was shot, sir."
+
+"Shot, poor boy. What will Alleson say?"
+
+
+It was Wednesday morning, and the entire strength of the Depot had
+turned out on parade. The Colonel, tall and dignified in the faultless
+neatness of undress uniform, was standing in his characteristic
+attitude, with his hands behind him and his head thrown slightly back.
+His blue eyes looked out, grave and watchful, from under the peak of his
+fatigue cap, and the tense interlocking of his gloved fingers was the
+only sign of his mental unrest.
+
+Yet the vision of Miles was before him--Miles bold, earnest,
+high-spirited, Miles in the full joy of life and strength, with the
+light of affection in his eyes; Miles again with his boyish face white
+and drawn and his active young form still in death.
+
+He had loved the boy, his boy as he always called him, more even than he
+had realised, and life seemed very blank without the hope of seeing him
+again.
+
+It was two days since his name had appeared in the lists of killed and
+wounded, and that afternoon the Colonel went down to see Marjorie, who
+had returned from Eastbourne a few days before. She looked unusually
+pale when she came into the room, and though she ran forward eagerly
+enough to greet him, her eyes were tearful and her lips quivering, as
+she put her hand into his.
+
+"I thought of writing to you"--began the Colonel nervously, "but----"
+
+"I'm glad you came," said Marjorie, "very glad. I shouldn't mind so much
+if we knew just how he died," she added sorrowfully.
+
+"We know how he would face death, Marjorie!"
+
+She put her arms on the table, and hid her face with a stifled sob.
+
+"He was your boy, and you'll miss him so," she went on. "There's no one
+like him, no one half so dear or half so brave. If I were only a boy I
+might try to be like him and make you happy--but I can't, it's no use."
+
+She was looking up at him with those dark eyes of hers, just as his boy
+had looked at him when he said good-bye three months ago, and he could
+not trust himself to speak.
+
+"I suppose you get used to things," she said with a sigh.
+
+The Colonel put his hand on her head. "Poor child," he said in a husky
+voice, "don't think about me."
+
+"Miles loved you," she answered softly, going up close to him. "I'm his
+sister. Let me love you, too."
+
+He drew her to him in a tender fatherly manner, that brought instant
+comfort to her aching, wilful little heart.
+
+"Your father was my friend, Marjorie," he said,--"the staunchest friend
+man ever had. I have often wondered why we failed to understand each
+other."
+
+"You don't like girls," said Marjorie, "that's why."
+
+The Colonel smiled grimly.
+
+"I didn't," he said. "Perhaps I have changed my mind."
+
+
+Lord Roberts had entered Pretoria, and the Colonel sat in his quarters
+looking through the list of released prisoners. All at once he gave a
+start, glanced hastily around, and then looked back again. About half
+way down the list of officers, he read:
+
+"Lieut. M. Weyburne (reported killed at Spion Kop)."
+
+Miles was alive: there had been some mistake. The bugle sounded. It was
+a quarter past nine. He walked out on to the parade-ground with his
+usual firm step, smiling as he went. Miles was alive. He could have
+dashed down the barrack-square like a bugler-boy in the lightness of his
+heart.
+
+People who met him that day hastened to congratulate him. He said very
+little, but looked years younger.
+
+Three weeks later there came a letter from Miles, explaining how he had
+been left upon the ground for dead, and on coming to himself, had fallen
+unarmed into the hands of the Boers. He had never fully recovered from
+his wounds, and by the doctor's orders had been invalided home, so that
+his guardian might expect him about ten days after receiving his letter.
+
+It was a happy home-coming. The Colonel went down to Southampton to meet
+him, and when he reached his aunt's house he found a letter from
+Marjorie awaiting him. "The Colonel's a dear," she wrote; "I understand
+now why you think such a lot of him."
+
+Miles turned with a smile to his guardian.
+
+"You and Marjorie are friends at last, Colonel," he said.
+
+"Yes, my boy," he returned gravely; "we know each other better now."
+
+
+
+
+'TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH.
+
+_A MANX STORY._
+
+BY CLUCAS JOUGHIN.
+
+
+PART I.
+
+
+Deborah Shimmin was neither tall nor fair, and yet Nature had been kind
+to her in many ways. She had wonderful eyes--large, dark, and full of
+mute eloquence--and if her mouth was too large, her nose too irregular,
+and her cheeks too much tanned by rude health, and by exposure to the
+sun as the village gossips said, I, Henry Kinnish, poetic dreamer, and
+amateur sculptor, thought she had a symmetry of form and a grace of
+movement which wrought her whole being into harmony and made her a
+perfect example of beauty with a plain face; and every one knew that
+Andrew, the young village blacksmith and rural postman, loved her with
+all the might of his big, brawny soul.
+
+These two ideas of Deborah's beauty and Andrew's love for her, were
+revealed to me one day when, with Deborah's master, his lumbering sons
+and comely daughters, and my chum Fred Harcourt, an artist from "across
+the water," we were cutting some early grass in May, just before the
+full bloom of the gorse had begun to fade from the hillsides and from
+the tops of the hedges where it had made borders of gold for the green
+of the fields all the spring.
+
+A soft west wind, which blew in from the sea, made waves along the uncut
+grass to windward of the mowers, and played around the skirts of
+Deborah, making them flutter about her, while the exertion of the
+haymaking occasionally let loose her long, strong black hair.
+
+But the face of Deborah was sad; for the village policeman had laid a
+charge against her before his chief to make her account for her
+possession of a large number of seagulls' eggs, to take which the law of
+the Island had made a punishable offence, by an act of Tynwald passed to
+protect the sea fowl from extinction.
+
+The eggs, all fresh, and newly taken from the nests, had been found on
+Deborah's dressing-table; but Deborah indignantly denied all knowledge
+of the means by which they had got there. There was a mystery about it
+to every one, for fresh clutches were seen there every morning, and the
+innocent Deborah made no attempt to conceal them. Where, then, could
+they come from but from some nests of the colony of seagulls which lived
+in the haughs that dropped down into the sea from Rhaby Hills? But no
+woman, young or old, could climb the craigs where the gulls had their
+nests. It was a feat of daring only performed by reckless boys and young
+men who were reared on the littoral, and who were strong and spirited
+craigsmen by inheritance and by familiarity with the dangerous sport of
+egg-collecting among the giddy heights of precipices on which, if they
+took but one false step, they might be hurled to certain destruction
+below.
+
+When the mowers had made all but the last swath, and there were only a
+few more rucks of the early hay to be made in the field, Cubbin, the
+rural constable, came in from the highroad with Andrew, the smith. The
+hot and sweated mowers did not stop the swing of their scythes, but they
+talked loudly amongst themselves in imprecations against the new law
+which made it a criminal offence for a lad to take a few gull's eggs,
+which they, and their fathers before them, had gone sporting after in
+the good old times when men did what they thought right.
+
+The bronzed face of Deborah Shimmin paled, her lips set into a resolve
+of courage when she saw Andrew in the hands of the police; and I learnt
+for the first time that Andrew was looked upon as the robber and Deborah
+as the receiver of the stolen eggs. I saw more than this, I saw, by one
+look, that the heart of Deborah and the heart of the tall, lithe lad,
+who now stood before me, were as one heart in love and in determination
+to stand by each other in the coming trial.
+
+The big hands of the young smith were thrust into his pockets, and a
+smile played over his honest face; but Deborah looked at the constable
+with a hard, defiant look, and then bent over her work again as if
+waiting to hear him say something dreadful which she was resolved to
+throw back into his face, though her hand trembled as she held the fork,
+which moved now faster and stronger than before.
+
+But Cubbin was a man of the gospel of peace though he was an officer of
+the law, and he only looked sadly on the face of Deborah as he asked her
+whether it would not be better for her to say where she got her supply
+of eggs from than allow him to get a summons against Andrew.
+
+"I have told you before that Andrew never gave me the eggs!" cried the
+girl, her face flushed with the crimson setting of the sun, "and I don't
+know where they came from. I can't say anything different, and I wish
+you would not trouble me, Mr. Cubbin!"
+
+Fred and I called Cubbin, the constable, to one side, and asked him to
+allow us a day or two to solve the mystery of the eggs--a little
+arrangement which may seem strange to dwellers in towns, but which was
+quite practicable at this time in this far-off place, and which he soon
+agreed to allow.
+
+I had been out shooting corncrakes that day, and Fred Harcourt had come
+with me for a day in the meadows, as his brush and palette had wearied
+him of late, and he longed to stretch his limbs and to see my spaniels
+work in the weedy hedges and in the meadows, where the grass had stood
+the test of the dry spring. We had taken off our coats to help our
+neighbour with his sunburnt grass, and our guns were laid across them.
+The spaniels had fallen asleep--using the coats as beds. While
+conversing with Cubbin we had walked quietly to get our coats, and I saw
+that one of the sleeping dogs was still hunting in his dreams. There was
+nothing uncommon about this, for dogs will hunt in their sleep; but
+some inner voice said to me that Deborah Shimmin, being a highly strung,
+nervous girl, might hunt in her sleep also, and that such things as
+somnambulists walking the roofs of high houses had been heard of, and I
+remembered a lad in my own boyhood's days who was awakened early one
+morning by the riverside with his rod in his hand and his basket slung
+over his nightshirt. But I did not communicate my theory of the solution
+of the mystery of the eggs to Cubbin, the constable.
+
+When the policeman left the field I entered into a kindly talk with
+Deborah Shimmin, and was not long in learning what the girl herself had
+probably never thought of, that on the public reading of the Act for the
+protection of sea-fowl, on the Tynwald day of the previous year, she had
+been impressed by the thought that Andrew would now be forbidden to
+employ his agility and his courage in a form of sport she often tried to
+dissuade him from.
+
+I knew before this that she had recently lost her mother, and had
+suffered a bereavement through a favourite brother being lost at sea one
+stormy night at the back-end herring fishing off Howth Head.
+
+"Poor Deborah," I said to Fred, "she is all nerves, and the hand of
+life's troubles is holding her; surely she must be innocent of
+encouraging her lover in risking his life--the only precious life left
+to her now!"
+
+"And the jolly Andrew," said Fred, "certainly looked the most amusing
+picture of innocence, as Cubbin trotted him along the grass! But your
+theory of the somnambulant business is a bit fanciful, all the same."
+
+
+PART II.
+
+
+At ten o'clock that night Fred Harcourt and I were bivouaced within
+sight of the only door of the house where Deborah Shimmin worked as a
+domestic help in the family of her uncle. The night was not dark, it
+seldom is dark in these northern islands so late in May, but there was
+a light of the moon at its first quarter, and a glint of some stars
+shone down upon us as we hearkened to the stillness of the air and to a
+frequent movement of a tired horse in the stable.
+
+Our bivouac was a clump of trammon trees (elders) at the corner of the
+orchard which adjoined the farm buildings. Between us and the dwelling
+house there was a disused pigsty. At about a quarter to eleven o'clock a
+man, with a red setter dog at his heels and a fowling piece on his arm,
+came sneaking up, and crept into the sty.
+
+Then there was another long spell of silence, not broken, but rather
+intensified, by the words which I whispered to Fred Harcourt that the
+fellow who crept into the sty was Kit Kermode, and that he could be
+after no good.
+
+At midnight a cock crew at the far end of the village, and a dog barked.
+Then there was silence again, save that every now and again a sedge
+warbler, far away by the stream near Shenvarla, sang a faintly audible
+song. Our position on the slope of the foot-hill at Gordon House was
+between the village and the hills which girt the sea coast. This made my
+theory of the sleep-walking to the cliffs more plausible. But while we
+lay low in the clump of trammon trees the appearance of Kit Kermode,
+with his cat-like walk and his eyes that could wink slander faster than
+any old woman's tongue could wag it, gave me a theory, or at least a
+speculation, in another direction.
+
+In soft whispers to Fred Harcourt, who was new to the village, I told
+him how the rascal Kermode hated Andrew the blacksmith. "He hates him,"
+I said, "I do verily believe, for his good honest face, his manly
+outspoken tongue, his courage, and his power of arm, but most of all he
+hates him since Andrew, years ago as an innocent and unthinking lad, ran
+after him in the village street and handed him a reminder of some money
+which he owed his master."
+
+"But what can that have to do with Deborah Shimmin's gulls' eggs?" asked
+Fred, whose mind never seemed to see anything but pictures of divers
+colours and inspiring outlines in the happy dreamland he lived in, all
+unconscious of the world's cruelty, and hate, and love of evil.
+
+I had just finished telling him that a man like Kermode might bribe a
+boy to get him gulls' eggs, and sneak up to Deborah's window and quietly
+reach in and place the eggs on her dressing-table, as a means of getting
+Deborah and Andrew into trouble. I had just finished giving this outline
+of the thought in my mind, I say, when the door of the farmhouse opened
+and Deborah Shimmin, clad only in her nightdress, stepped lightly forth
+and started up the hillside.
+
+The next moment the man, his gun in the hollow of his arm and the red
+setter dog at his heels, crawled forth from the pigsty, looked round as
+if to make certain he was not watched, and followed the white figure of
+the girl as she glided up the zig-zag path in the direction of the
+haughs which formed the wild sea coast.
+
+It did not take Fred and me very long to take off our boots and
+noiselessly follow, guided by the figure in white, rather than by the
+man who went before us, for the dim light of the moon and the northern
+night made his dark dress difficult to see in the shadows of the hedges
+and trees.
+
+I knew that Deborah would take the usual path to the rocks, and bade
+Fred follow close behind me while I took a shorter route. In ten minutes
+we were again under cover when the girl passed close by us, her long
+hair knotted roughly into a mass of rolls about her large and
+well-formed head. Her eyes were open, and fixed in a glassy stare
+straight ahead. She seemed to move along, rather than walk, and had no
+appearance of either hesitation or haste; and Kermode, with his dog and
+his gun, stealthily followed in her wake not twenty yards behind.
+
+While we were crossing the field bordering the Gordon haughs, keeping
+under the shadow of a gorse-clad hedge, Deborah disappeared over the
+cliff, and the man, watched by Fred and myself, crept up to the edge of
+the cliffs down which the poor girl had descended.
+
+Before another minute had elapsed, Kermode had stretched himself out
+his full length on a craig which overlooked the precipitous rocks down
+which Deborah had disappeared. We then secured the cover of a mound not
+thirty feet away from him.
+
+The dog gave a low whine when he saw the head of his master craned out
+to watch the movements of the white figure descending the rocks, and
+then all was quiet as before.
+
+Fred's suspense and anxiety for the safety of the girl was apparent in
+his hard breathing; but my own were inconsiderable, for I knew that if
+undisturbed by any noise unusual to the night, or any interference by
+the fellow who now held the future happiness of Andrew, the smith, in
+his hands she would safely climb up the haugh and make her way home to
+bed, all unconscious of the awful position she had placed herself in.
+
+Wicked as I knew the man to be, I did not now imagine that he had any
+other intention in watching around the house than to try to discover
+Andrew paying a nocturnal visit, with some gulls' eggs for his
+sweetheart. This would have been a mean enough act, but it seems a small
+thing beside the cruel and murderous deed he would have committed but
+for the providential presence and prompt action of Fred Harcourt and
+myself.
+
+Fred and I lay low, with our chins resting on our hands, not daring even
+to whisper. The dog whined a little now and again, and we heard the
+subdued cries of seagulls as they flew off, alarmed in the darkness,
+over the sea. Still Deborah did not make her appearance on the top of
+the cliff. It seemed a long time that we lay and watched thus, but it
+could not have been so long as it seemed.
+
+Then Kermode, without raising himself from watching the climbing girl,
+reached back for the gun which he had placed on the ground by his side.
+He raised it to the level of his face, resting his left elbow on the
+ground, and I heard the click of the hammer as he cocked it. Then I saw
+his thumb and finger go into his waistcoat pocket.
+
+"Good God!" I said in a loud whisper, as I sprang to my feet, for I
+knew in one awful moment that the villain was feeling for a cap to
+discharge a shot in the air above the head of Deborah, who would wake up
+at the shock, and fall to the base of the craig in her terrible fright.
+So intent was Kermode in his fell design of frightening the girl to her
+destruction that he did not hear me, or notice the growl of his dog, or
+feel the vibration of our tread as we both bore down upon him. We should
+have been too late if it had not been for the life-long habit of the
+wretch to secure himself from danger or suspicion. With his finger on
+the trigger, all ready to pull, he paused one moment to raise himself
+and look about. That moment saved the life of Deborah Shimmin, for the
+would-be murderer was the next instant under the knee of Fred Harcourt
+and his throat in his grip, while my hand was over the nipples of the
+gun. While we were all on the ground together, and the setter dog had a
+hold of Harcourt's leg, the tall form of Cubbin, the policeman, bent
+over us. I had lowered the hammers of the gun and thrown it to one side
+to grasp the dog, for Harcourt would not let go his hold of Kermode's
+throat lest he should shout and wake the girl.
+
+"Gag Kermode," I said to Cubbin, as I hit the dog just above the snout
+with a stone, killing him by one blow.
+
+Then Deborah Shimmin, holding something in a fold of her nightdress with
+one hand, and climbing with the other, came up over the edge of the
+cliff a few yards away from us.
+
+She looked very beautiful as she stepped up on the sloping sward above
+the haugh, with the pale moonlight just lighting her airy dress, and her
+face all sad and careworn.
+
+Leaving Kermode to the care of the constable, Fred and I noiselessly
+followed the girl home, and saw her step over the obstacles in her path
+as by instinct, turning her face neither to the right nor left.
+
+We decided to awaken her before she reached the door of the farmhouse,
+so that, according to the popular notion, she might never again become
+somnambulent.
+
+With this view I stepped before her as she approached the door, but was
+astonished to find that she paused as if my presence blocked the way
+before she yet saw me or touched me. But there was no misunderstanding
+the blank stare in her wonderful eyes.
+
+I gently put out my hand and took hers, as she put it out before her to
+feel the influence of a presence she could not see.
+
+She did not scream or faint. She awoke with a start, and let the eggs
+fall on the ground.
+
+At first she could not understand where she was, and just thought she
+was dreaming; but by degrees it came to her that she was standing before
+me in the pale moonlight when she thought she ought to be in bed.
+
+Then I softly told her where she had been in her sleep, keeping back all
+knowledge of Kermode's attempted revenge on Andrew, and how we had
+decided to awake her. Then, with a little pleasant laugh, we both told
+her that the mystery of the seagulls' eggs was solved, and that neither
+Andrew nor she would be troubled again.
+
+She fell to sobbing a little, and for the first time seemed to shiver
+with the cold; then she lifted the latch and we bade her good night.
+
+Nothing was done to Kermode, for the fellow swore he had no intention of
+discharging the gun, and we could not prove he had, though the case was
+clear enough in our eyes, and the deed would have been done had we not,
+in God's providence, been there to prevent it.
+
+Cubbin, the constable, it transpired afterwards, had overheard me giving
+my theory of the sleep-walking to Fred in the hayfield, and he, too, had
+been in hiding at the farm, and had watched and followed us all.
+
+So there was a wonderful story for him to tell of how Deborah had made
+good her defence against the charge he had laid against Andrew and her.
+And the beautiful Deborah with the plain face became the bride of the
+jolly Andrew, who was neither an artist nor an amateur sculptor, but
+only a village blacksmith who had an eye for beauty of form and
+character.
+
+
+
+
+ROSE'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT.
+
+_A TRUE STORY._
+
+BY MARIE E. C. DELBRASSINE.
+
+
+"Where is Rose?"
+
+"Busy, as usual, with her mice and beetles, I suppose, father," answered
+Ethel; "we have not seen her all this afternoon."
+
+"She will probably be with you at teatime," said Dr. Sinclair, "after
+which I should like you to ask her to come to me for a little while in
+the surgery."
+
+"Very well, father, I won't forget."
+
+Dr. Sinclair retreated again to his surgery, which was arranged also as
+his library, knowing that his willing helper would not fail to join him
+there.
+
+"I cannot think," said Maud, Ethel's sister, "what that girl finds to
+interest her in all those horrid creatures--beetles and toads, and even
+snakes, when she can get one; the other day I saw her handling a
+slowworm as if it were a charming domestic pet. It was enough to make
+one feel cold all over."
+
+"Well, there is no accounting for taste; Rose never seems to care if she
+is asked to a party or not," continued Ethel, "and she does not mind
+helping father with his work, which I always find so tiresome, for he is
+so dreadfully particular about it. Perhaps biologists are different from
+other folks; I sometimes think there is something uncannny and queer
+about them."
+
+"I'm sure Rose is neither uncanny nor queer, she's just a brick," said
+Jack, a schoolboy of fourteen, who was enjoying a Saturday half-holiday
+at home with a new book, it being too wet to play cricket. "She is
+always willing to do anything to help a fellow."
+
+"Which means," said Ethel, "that you always expect girls to be your
+slaves, when you are at home."
+
+At this moment the door opened and Rose herself appeared.
+
+"Well, Rose," said Maud, "have you pinned out a beetle, or taught your
+pet ants to perform tricks?"
+
+"Not this afternoon," said Rose; "I have had a delightful time with my
+microscope, studying spiders and drawing slides for the magic lantern to
+be used at my next little lecture to the G.F.S. girls."
+
+"That sounds dry and uninteresting," yawned Maud. "Ah, here comes tea.
+By the way, father would like you to go to his study afterwards. Poor
+Rose, I expect he has some more tiresome work for you."
+
+"Oh, don't call it tiresome, Maud dear; I quite enjoy it."
+
+"It's a good thing you do. I hate being shut up there; it's such a
+bore."
+
+A quarter of an hour later a middle-aged man, whose snow-white hair made
+him appear at first sight much older than he was in reality, might have
+been seen busy over a manuscript, whilst a fair girl sat beside him,
+reading out to him the notes he had made, and which he was working into
+the book he was writing. The two seemed to work in perfect harmony.
+
+Rose's father had been the rector of a remote country parish in
+Cornwall. Most of his friends said that he was lost in such a
+neighbourhood, and that it was a shame to have sent so able a man to
+such a parish; but Mr. Sinclair never complained himself; he may
+sometimes have thought it strange that other men were chosen before him
+to occupy positions which he felt conscious he might well have filled,
+but as his lot was cast in that Cornish nook, he had thrown himself
+heart and soul into whatever work he found to do. The affection he won
+from the rough fisherfolk, who regarded him as the father of the parish,
+whose joys and sorrows, cares and anxieties, were all well known to him,
+was as much to him as any brilliant worldly success. His means were
+small, too small for his generous heart. He wished to give as good an
+education as possible to his two children, Henry and Rose, and devoted
+much time and trouble to that end. For several years he taught the boy
+and girl together himself, Rose learning much the same lessons as her
+brother; this laid the foundation of the accuracy which characterised
+her in any task she undertook--a quality often lacking in feminine work.
+
+Mr. Sinclair had been a good student of natural history, and had written
+books and magazine articles which had been well thought of. Rose tried
+to follow her father's pursuit; she would spend hours in reading about
+birds and butterflies, and in making little researches herself. One of
+her greatest pleasures had been to help her father, either by taking
+notes for him or by writing at his dictation. She hoped herself some day
+to add to her pecuniary resources by writing for biological papers or
+even by giving lectures.
+
+But the happy home life in the Cornish rectory was to end all too
+quickly. Rose lost both her parents within a short time of each other;
+her brother was at Oxford, working hard; and Rose was left alone, and
+had to leave the home which was so dear to her.
+
+It was then that her uncle, Dr. Sinclair, without a moment's hesitation,
+offered her a home in his house. He did not listen to warning voices,
+cautioning him against burdening himself with the charge of another
+girl, for his own means were not large, and his family made many demands
+upon his purse. He was a physician whose career might have been a
+brilliant one had his practice been in London; but a fanciful and
+invalid wife had rendered this impossible, as she declared she could
+only exist in the pure air of the country.
+
+So he had reluctantly abandoned his cherished hope of working as a
+London doctor, and had settled near a small country town in
+Gloucestershire, where he soon obtained most of the practice round; but
+his scope was narrow. He nevertheless managed to keep in touch with his
+profession, a profession in which he had entered heart and soul, making
+various scientific researches in his laboratory, and sending the fruit
+of them in clearly-written articles to medical papers. Now for this
+work, either in writing short articles from his notes, or from his
+dictation, a patient helper was of great assistance to him. His own
+daughters, as already seen, disliked the work, and showed their father
+no sympathy in it, whereas to Rose it was real enjoyment, filling, in a
+measure, the void she felt in no longer helping her father. Between
+uncle and niece a tacit sympathy had grown up. He encouraged her in her
+natural history pursuits, and helped her to start the lectures she gave
+to the G.F.S. girls in the neighbourhood. The suggestion had seemed
+little likely to interest them, but Rose had been so clear and explicit
+that the girls soon became eager for them.
+
+Time went on in this way, when something happened which was again to
+change Rose's circumstances. Truly it is that often trifles light as air
+have an unknown weight of importance in them. One morning the letter-bag
+brought a circular announcing that some "University Extension Lectures"
+were to be given at C----, their nearest town, by a professor from
+Oxford, the subject chosen being "Spiders," with notes from the
+microscope.
+
+When Dr. Sinclair had read it, he passed it, smiling kindly, to Rose.
+
+"This is not for me," he said, "but I think I know some one whom it may
+interest."
+
+"Oh, uncle! how delightful," said Rose, when she had looked at it; "the
+very thing I should enjoy!"
+
+So it came to pass that Rose attended the lectures, entering very fully
+into them, and taking careful notes.
+
+At the close of the course, the lecturer said he would like any of the
+students who felt sufficiently interested in the subject to write a
+paper, and send it in to him, giving a summary of the lectures, and
+asking any questions they might care to ask, at the end.
+
+Rose and several others responded to the invitation, and wrote their
+papers.
+
+For some time Rose heard no more about it, but one morning she was
+surprised to receive the following note:--
+
+     "DEAR MADAM,--I have felt much satisfaction in reading your
+     paper, which I return, with a few notes and answers to your
+     questions. It shows me with what intelligent interest you
+     have followed my lectures.
+
+     "It may interest you to know that an examination for a
+     scholarship at St. Margaret's Hall, the new college for
+     women, is shortly to be held at Oxford; and if you care to
+     pursue a subject for which you show much understanding, I
+     would suggest your trying for it. I don't promise you
+     success, but I think it is worth the venture. A friend of
+     mine, a lady living in Oxford, receives lady students
+     recommended by me, and would, I am sure, make you
+     comfortable on very moderate terms. Yours truly,
+
+     "B. FIELDING."
+
+Rose read the letter two or three times and then passed it to her uncle.
+Had she the means to go there--if, oh, _if_ she could only get the
+scholarship, how delightful it would be!
+
+"Come to my study," said Dr. Sinclair.
+
+And as soon as the door was shut he said kindly,--
+
+"I don't like you to lose this opportunity, dear child, so write and
+tell Mr. Fielding you will go up to Oxford, if he will introduce you to
+the lady he mentions."
+
+"Oh, but, uncle," she said, "what Mr. Fielding may call moderate terms
+may really mean a great deal more than should be paid for me."
+
+"Never mind, little Rose," said Dr. Sinclair, "I meant to give my kind
+little helper a birthday present, and this shall be it."
+
+"Dear uncle, how kind of you. But remember, that whatever help, as you
+term it, I may have given you, has always been a pleasure to me."
+
+"And so, dear, is anything that I may do for you to me."
+
+Thus it was settled, and a few days later, Dr. Sinclair himself started
+for his own beloved Oxford with his niece. Jack and Maud went to the
+station to see them off.
+
+"Keep up your courage, Rose," said Jack, "you're pretty sure to pass,
+for if any girl in England knows about creepy, crawley things, you do!"
+
+When Rose returned some days later, she looked rather overstrained and
+pale, and, to the surprise of Ethel and Maud, never looked at her
+microscope, or at any of her treasures in the way of beetles and
+tadpoles, but spent her time in complete idleness, except when she
+helped them to do up some of their evening clothes for some forthcoming
+dances; and they were surprised to see how deftly a biologist could sew.
+
+One Saturday, as the three girls were sitting working together, Jack,
+who was spending his half-holiday at home again, said, "Why, here comes
+the telegraph boy!"
+
+"Run and see who it is for," said Ethel, who had lately shown much more
+sympathetic interest in Rose, and who began to realise that if Rose
+obtained what she was so keenly set on, she, as well as others, might
+miss the cousin who had been so kind and so unselfish an inmate of their
+home. "Run and see, Jack; and if it is for any of us, bring it here."
+
+Rose looked very white, but did not look up from her work.
+
+"Addressed to Miss Rose Sinclair," said Jack, who soon returned.
+
+Rose took the telegram with trembling fingers, and then tore it open.
+
+It announced the following:--
+
+"_Rose Sinclair passed first. Awarded scholarship St. Margaret's for
+three years._"
+
+"Oh, Ethel!" said Rose, "it is too good to be true."
+
+"I knew you would pass," said Jack, "I always said you would, didn't I,
+now?"
+
+"Well," said Ethel, "we ought to be very glad for your sake."
+
+"Yes," said Maud, "I congratulate you, Rose--but, I am very, very sorry
+you are going away."
+
+"Are you, dear?" said Rose; "I also shall feel lonely without all of
+you, in this my second home. But let us go and tell uncle, for I
+consider this his special birthday gift to me."
+
+"So it is," said Dr. Sinclair, who appeared at that moment.
+
+"Then your old uncle is much gratified in sending his niece to Oxford;
+but he will miss his little girl very much."
+
+Rose distinguished herself even far above Jack's expectation. After she
+had concluded her college course, she devoted her time and knowledge to
+giving lectures, for which she received remuneration, also to writing
+articles for magazines, and subsequent events led to her settling in
+Oxford. Whenever Dr. Sinclair wants an especially enjoyable holiday, he
+goes to spend a few days with Rose, and the two compare notes on their
+work. When he expresses his pleasure at her success, Rose loves to
+remind him that she owes it greatly to his kindness that she was placed
+in the way of obtaining it, through the birthday gift, which was to be
+so helpful to her.
+
+
+
+
+DOLLY HARDCASTLE'S ROSEBUDS.
+
+_A CITY IDYLL_
+
+BY CHARLES E. PEARCE.
+
+
+Jack Cameron's office was a handsome apartment. It was approached by a
+broad staircase, the balusters of which were impressive from their
+solidity and design. The office door had a species of ornamental
+pediment over it, and the room itself had panelled walls of a pale
+green, a chimneypiece of portentous size, and a highly ornamental
+ceiling.
+
+Up the staircase tripped a little lady--a pleasant vision of a silk
+blouse, butter-coloured lace, golden hair, fawn gloves, and tan
+bottines, leaving behind her an atmosphere redolent of the latest
+fashionable perfume mingled with the more delicate scent of the Marechal
+Niel roses in her corsage.
+
+She knocked at the door, and, as there was no response from within,
+turned the handle.
+
+"May I come in, please?" she said laughingly.
+
+A young man was standing in a corner of the room opposite the
+telegraphic machine, from which the "tape" was issuing with a monotonous
+click. On this "tape"--a narrow strip of paper seemingly endless, which
+fell on the floor in serpentine coils--were inscribed at regular
+intervals some cabalistic characters unintelligible to the general
+public, but full of meaning to the initiated.
+
+He turned at the sound of the voice. "What! Dolly?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, Jack; didn't you expect me?"
+
+"Of course--of course," answered Jack Cameron, rather confusedly.
+
+The girl crossed the room, and, taking both the hands of the young man,
+looked into his eyes.
+
+"You are worried," said she softly.
+
+"Oh, only a little. One is bound to have worries in business, especially
+when the market's feverish. But I'm awfully glad you've come. I shall
+forget all my bothers now you are here."
+
+His tone brightened, and the shadow that was beginning to steal over the
+girl's face disappeared.
+
+They were engaged. The wedding-day was fixed for the following week;
+naturally there was much to do in the way of house furnishing, and the
+bride elect was happy. Shopping before marriage has a distinct charm of
+its own. The feminine mind attaches to each purchase an ideal pleasure.
+Then there is the special joy of being entrusted by her future husband
+with money, and the pride of showing him how well she can bargain.
+
+Jack Cameron was a stockbroker, and had done fairly well in South
+Africans. But like a good many others he had kept his "Narbatos" too
+long, and he saw his way to lose some money; not enough to seriously
+damage his stability, but enough to inconvenience him at this especial
+time when he was thinking of taking a wife.
+
+Dolly Hardcastle knew nothing at all about this. Indeed, she knew
+nothing about stockbroking. It seemed to her simply a pleasant, light,
+gentlemanly profession, consisting principally in standing in
+Throgmorton Street, with one's hat tilted backwards, smoking cigarettes,
+eating oranges or strawberries according to the season, and talking
+about cricket or football.
+
+This was the first time she had been to Jack's office, and she was
+prettily curious about everything--especially the telephone. She was not
+satisfied until Jack had shown her how to work the apparatus.
+
+The "ticker" was also an all-absorbing object of attention The
+continuous "click, click," and the issuing of the tape without any
+apparent motive power, had something of the supernatural about it. Dolly
+looked at the white strips with wonder.
+
+"What does this say, Jack? N-a-r-Narbatos, 2 1/2. What does it mean?"
+
+Alas! Jack Cameron knew too well what it meant. Narbatos had gone down
+with a "slump." When Miss Hardcastle called he was debating whether he
+should sell. This quotation decided him.
+
+"Dolly," said he hurriedly, "do you mind me leaving you for five minutes
+alone while I run into the 'House'?"
+
+No, Dolly did not mind. Business, of course, must be attended to. Jack
+seized his hat, snatched a kiss, and vanished.
+
+"Dear old Jack," said Dolly, seating herself at the office table and
+staring at the ticker. "I wonder whether he has many callers? Whatever
+shall I do if anybody comes?"
+
+She was considering this matter, with the assistance of the paper-knife,
+pressed against her pretty lips, when the sharp ting, ting, ting, of the
+telephone startled her.
+
+Somebody wanted to speak to Jack. It might be important. Hadn't she
+better go to the telephone? It was so nice to be able to help her future
+husband.
+
+"I wonder whether I could imitate Jack's voice?"
+
+She went to the telephone and did exactly as Jack had instructed her to
+do. She heard a sepulchral voice say, "Are you there?"
+
+"Yes," said Dolly boldly.
+
+"I have an offer of 5,000 Rosebuds. Will you take the lot, as you said
+you would when we were talking about them the other day? Wire just
+come."
+
+"Five thousand rosebuds!" cried Dolly, with flashing eyes and cheeks
+like the flowers just mentioned. "Then Jack is going to have the church
+decorated after all. Darling fellow; he hasn't even forgotten the wire
+for fastening them."
+
+The man at the other end was evidently impatient, for he shouted that
+Jack must decide at once. As the matter was one which concerned Dolly,
+she had no hesitation what answer to give.
+
+"Yes," she declared, in as bass a tone as she could assume.
+
+She felt half inclined to waltz round the room, but she was afraid of
+disturbing the occupant of the office below. Gradually she sobered down,
+and by the time Jack Cameron returned she was quite sedate.
+
+Jack had sold his Narbatos, and had lost L500 over the deal. But it was
+no use crying over spilt milk. The immediate effect was that he would
+have to be very economical over his honeymoon expenses. However, he
+wouldn't say anything about the matter to Dolly that day. He would carry
+out his promise--give her a nice luncheon at Birch's.
+
+And so, putting on a mask of gaiety to conceal his real feelings, he
+piloted his fiancee across Broad Street and Cornhill.
+
+That luncheon took a long time. Basking in the smiles of his Dolly, he
+gradually forgot stocks, shares, backwardations, and contangoes. Then,
+when they came from Birch's, Dolly wanted to see the new frescoes at the
+Royal Exchange, and she had to be obeyed.
+
+It was quite three o'clock when he bethought himself that, though wooing
+was very pleasant, he had several important letters to write, and must
+return to his office.
+
+"Thank you, Jack, dear, for being so nice to me to-day," whispered
+Dolly, as they strolled towards the entrance of the Exchange; "and thank
+you especially for letting me have the church decorated. The roses will
+make the dear old place look sweetly pretty."
+
+Jack stared. Had his Dolly taken leave of her senses?
+
+"Decorations--roses!" he exclaimed, mechanically. "I don't understand."
+
+"Ah, that's very clever of you," laughed Dolly, "pretending you know
+nothing about it. You wanted to surprise me."
+
+"Upon my word I had no intention of having the church decorated. I
+should like to please you, of course, but----"
+
+Well, he had already decided that the church decoration was one of the
+expenses he would do without.
+
+"Come now, confess. Haven't you ordered a quantity of rosebuds? You must
+have forgotten. Anyway, it's all right, for while you were away from
+your office there came a message through the telephone asking whether
+you'd take 5,000 rosebuds you were talking to somebody about the other
+day and of course I said yes. Gracious! Jack, dear, what is the matter?"
+
+"Rosebuds--telephone. Of course, I see what has happened," faltered the
+young stockbroker. "Oh, Dolly--Dolly."
+
+"What have I done? Nothing very serious, I hope. If you don't want to
+have the church decorated, why, I--I--shan't mind very--very much."
+
+"It isn't that at all," said Jack, looking very queer. "Of course you
+didn't know. Unluckily the message didn't mean flowers, but shares in
+the 'Rosebud Gold Mining Company.'"
+
+"Oh!"
+
+It was quite true that Jack had contemplated speculating in "Rosebud"
+shares, but he had heard some disquieting rumours about the mine, and
+had decided not to touch them. And here he was the prospective owner of
+5,000! Only two days before the quotation was 10s., with a tendency to
+drop. To take them up was impossible, to sell would mean a loss.
+
+"Dolly," said he hurriedly, "let me see you into an omnibus." And, after
+a hasty farewell, he packed the young lady into a Kensington 'bus, and
+rushed to the Mining door of the Stock Exchange in Broad Street.
+
+"What are Rosebuds?" he inquired excitedly of a well-known stockbroker.
+
+"15_s._ 6_d._, buyers, 14_s._ 6_d._, sellers."
+
+And they were 7_s._ 6_d._, 7_s._, when the market opened that morning.
+What did it mean, and at what price had he, or rather, had Dolly, bought
+them?
+
+He knew from whom the telephonic message had come. He dashed into his
+office and rang up the man, a member of a West End firm of brokers.
+
+"Eight shillings," was the reply. "Congratulate you. Your profit already
+will pay for your honeymoon and a little more besides. Of course you'll
+sell. It's a market rig, and I happen to be in the know."
+
+Sell? Of course he would. A profit of over L1,800 would recoup him for
+his loss of that morning, and leave him a handsome balance in the
+bargain.
+
+"Dolly, dearest," he whispered that night, "the rosebuds are all right.
+The old church shall be smothered in them from end to end."
+
+And so it was, but like a prudent man he never explained that but for
+Dolly's unconscious assistance there might have been no roses and
+perhaps very little honeymoon. He was afraid Dolly might want to help
+him again!
+
+
+
+
+A TALE OF SIMLA.
+
+BY DR. HELEN BOURCHIER.
+
+
+There was a dinner-party that night at the lieutenant-governor's, and
+those of the governed who had followed him from his territory of Lahore
+up to Simla were bidden to the feast. In one of the pretty private
+sitting-rooms of the Bellevue Hotel three ladies were discussing
+chiffons in connection with that function.
+
+"Elma doesn't care for dinner-parties," Mrs. Macdonald said regretfully.
+
+Elma was her daughter, and this was her first season in Simla.
+
+"Oh, mother, I like the parties well enough!" said Elma. "What I hate is
+the horrid way you have of getting to parties."
+
+"What do you mean?" the third lady asked.
+
+"Elma means that she doesn't like the jampans," Mrs. Macdonald
+explained.
+
+"I am always frightened," said Elma in a low voice, and a little of the
+delicate colour she had brought out from England with her faded from her
+lovely face. "It seems so dreadful to go rushing down those steep,
+narrow lanes, on the edge of a precipice, in little rickety two-wheeled
+chairs that would turn over in a minute if one of the men were to
+stumble and fall; and then one would roll all down I don't know how many
+feet, down those steep precipices: some of them have no railings or
+protection of any kind, and in the evening the roads are quite dark
+under the overhanging trees. And people have fallen over them and been
+killed--every one knows that."
+
+"Elma cannot speak Hindustani," the mother further explained, "and the
+first time she went out she called '_Jeldi, jeldi!_' to the men, and of
+course they ran faster and faster. I was really rather alarmed myself
+when they came tearing past me round a corner."
+
+"I thought _jeldi_ meant 'slowly,'" said Elma.
+
+"Well, at any rate you have learnt one word of the language," said Mrs.
+Thompson, laughing.
+
+"I should not mind so much if mother was with me," said the girl; "but
+those horrid little jampans only hold one person--and mother's jampannis
+always run on so fast in front, and my men have to keep up with them. I
+wish I wasn't going this evening."
+
+"She has the sweetest frock you ever saw," said Mrs. Macdonald, turning
+to a pleasanter aspect of the subject. "I must say my sister-in-law took
+great pains with her outfit, and she certainly has excellent taste."
+
+"Didn't you ever feel nervous at first," Elma asked, "when you went out
+in a jampan on a dark night down a very steep road?"
+
+Mrs. Thompson laughed. "I can't say I remember it," she said. "I never
+fancied myself going over the _kudd_--the 'precipice' as you call it. I
+suppose I should have made my husband walk by the side of the jampan if
+I had been afraid."
+
+Then she got up to go, and Mrs. Macdonald went out with her and stood
+talking for a minute in the long corridor outside her rooms.
+
+"She is a very lovely creature," said Mrs. Thompson pleasantly. "I
+should think she is quite the prettiest girl in Simla this year."
+
+"I think she is," the mother agreed; "but I am afraid she will be very
+difficult to manage. She is only just out of the schoolroom, you know,
+and girls are so unpractical. She doesn't care to talk to any one but
+the subalterns and boys of her own age--and it is so important she
+should settle this year. You know we retire next year."
+
+"It is early days yet," said the other cheerfully.
+
+She had come out to India herself as the bride of a very rising young
+civilian, and she knew nothing of the campaign of the mothers at Simla.
+
+Elma indeed looked a lovely creature when she came out of her room an
+hour or two later to show herself to her mother before she stepped into
+the hated jampan. Her dress was a delicate creation of white lace and
+chiffon, with illusive shimmerings of silver in its folds that came and
+went with every one of her graceful movements. She was a tall and
+slender girl, with a beautiful long white throat, smooth and round, that
+took on entrancing curves of pride and gentleness, of humility and
+nobleness. She had splendid rippling hair of a deep bronze, that had
+been red a few years earlier; and dark blue dreamy eyes under broad dark
+eyebrows; a long sweep of cool fair cheek, and a rather wide mouth with
+a little tender, pathetic droop at the corners.
+
+"That frock certainly becomes you to perfection," said the mother. "I
+hope you will enjoy yourself; and do try not to let the boys monopolise
+you this evening. It is not like a dance, you know, and really, it is
+not good form to snub all the older men who try to talk to you."
+
+Elma lifted her long lashes with a glance of unfeigned surprise. "Oh,
+mother," she said humbly, "how could I snub any one? I am afraid of the
+clever men. I like to talk to the boys because they are as silly as I am
+myself, and they would not laugh at me for saying stupid things."
+
+"No one is going to laugh at you, goosey," said her mother.
+
+"I wish I was not going," said Elma.
+
+The ayah came out of the bedroom, and wrapped the tall young figure in a
+long white opera-cloak; and then they all went down together to the
+front verandah, where the jampans waited with the brown, bare-legged
+runners in their smart grey and blue liveries.
+
+Mrs. Macdonald started first. "Don't call out _jeldi_ too often, Elma,"
+she called back, laughing: "I don't want to be run over."
+
+And the ayah, hearing the word _jeldi_, explained to the jampannis that
+the Miss Sahib desired, above all things, fleetness, and that she had no
+mind to sit behind a team of slugs.
+
+Elma got in very gingerly, and the ayah settled her draperies with
+affectionate care. The dark little woman loved her, because she was
+gentle and fair and never scolded or hurried.
+
+The night was very dark. The road was by narrow backways, rough, heavily
+shadowed, and unprotected in many places. The jampannis started off at a
+run down the steep path as soon as they had passed through the gate, and
+Elma sat trembling and quaking behind them, gripping both sides of the
+little narrow carriage as she was whirled along. Once or twice it bumped
+heavily over large stones in the road; and when they had gone some
+little distance a dispute seemed to arise between the runners. They
+stopped the jampan and appealed to her, but she could not understand a
+word they said. She could only shake her head and point forward. Several
+minutes were lost in this discussion, and when at length it was decided
+one way or the other, the men started again at a greater speed than
+ever, to make up for the lost time.
+
+They bumped and flew along the dark road, and whirled round a corner too
+short. One of the men on the inner side of the road stumbled up the
+bank, and, losing his balance, let go the pole, and the jampan heeled
+over. Elma's startled scream unnerved the other runners, who swerved and
+stumbled, and in a moment the jampan was overturned down the side of the
+_kudd_. The white figure in it was shot out and went rolling down the
+rough hillside among the scrub and thorny bushes and broken stakes that
+covered it.
+
+The jampannis ran away; and after that one scream of Elma's there was
+silence on the dark road.
+
+It seemed to her that she was years rolling and buffeting down that
+steep hillside, which happily at that point was not precipitous. Then
+something struck her sharply on the side and stopped her farther
+progress. She did not faint, though the pain in her side gripped her
+breath for a moment. For all her delicate ethereal appearance, she was a
+strong girl, and, like many timid people, found courage when a disaster
+had really happened. She could not move. She was pinned down among the
+short, stiff branches of a thorny shrub; but she screamed again as loud
+as she could--not a scream of terror, but a call for help. Then she lay
+and listened. All about her there was no sound but the rustling murmur
+of the leaves and the tiny, mysterious noises of the little creatures of
+the night whose realm she had invaded. Now and again she tried to move
+and disentangle herself from the strong branches that held her; but they
+pressed her down, the thorns pinned her clothes, and her bruised side
+ached with every movement--and she was forced to lie still again and
+listen for some sound of the jampannis, who must surely be looking for
+her.
+
+Presently, on the road above, there sounded, very faint and far off, the
+tramp of shod feet. She called again, and the tramp quickened to a run,
+and a man's voice shouted in the distance: "Hullo! Hullo!"
+
+As the steps came nearer above her, she cried again: "Help! I am
+here--down the _kudd_."
+
+In the leafy stillness her shrill young voice rang far and clear.
+
+"Where are you?" came the answering voice.
+
+"Down the _kudd_."
+
+The steps stopped on the road above.
+
+"Are you there?" the voice called. "I see something white glimmering."
+
+"I am here," she answered; then, as the bushes crackled above her, she
+called a warning: "It is very steep. Be careful."
+
+Very slowly and cautiously the steps came down the steep side of the
+_kudd_ to an accompaniment of rolling stones and crashing and tearing
+branches, and now and then a muttered exclamation. Then she was aware of
+a white face glimmering out of the darkness.
+
+"Are you there?" said the voice again, quite close to her.
+
+"Yes, I am here, but I cannot move; the branches hold me down."
+
+"Wait a moment. I will get a light."
+
+She was lying on her back, and, turning her head a little, she could see
+a match struck and the face it illuminated--a strong, dark, clean-shaven
+face; a close-cropped, dark, uncovered head. The match was held over her
+for a moment, then it went out.
+
+"I see where you are," said the rescuer, "we must try to get you out.
+Are you hurt?"
+
+"I have hurt my side, I think," she said.
+
+Without more words he knelt down beside her and began to tear away and
+loosen the short, sturdy branches; then he took her under the shoulders,
+and drew her slowly along the ground. There was a great rending and
+tearing in every direction of her delicate garments; but at last she was
+free of the clinging thorns and branches.
+
+"I am afraid the thorns have scratched you a good deal," he said in a
+very matter-of-fact voice. "Will you try if you can stand up now? Lean
+on me."
+
+Elma scrambled to her feet, and stood leaning against him--a glimmering,
+ghostly figure, whose tattered garments were happily hidden by the
+darkness.
+
+"Do you think you can manage to climb back to the road now?" he asked;
+"there may be snakes about here, you know."
+
+"I will try," said Elma.
+
+"I will go first," he said. "You had better hold on to my coat, I think.
+That will leave my hands free to pull us up."
+
+Very slowly and laboriously they clambered back again to the road above;
+there was no sign of the jampannis, and the jampan itself had gone over
+the _kudd_ and was no more to be seen.
+
+They sat down exhausted on the rising bank on the other side of the
+road.
+
+"How did you get here?" he asked.
+
+"My jampan went over the side, down the precipice," said Elma, "and I am
+afraid those poor jampannis must have been killed."
+
+The stranger laughed long and loud, and Elma, in the reaction of her
+relief, laughed too.
+
+"I have not the slightest idea what you are laughing at," she said.
+
+"You have not been long in this country?" he asked.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You do not know the jampanni. As soon as the jampan tilted they let go,
+and directly they saw you had gone over they ran away. Killed! Well,
+that is likely! I daresay they will come back here presently to pick up
+the pieces, when they have got over their panic: they are not really
+bad-hearted, you know. We will wait a little while and see."
+
+There was silence between them for a few peaceful moments; then Elma
+said gently, "I thank you with all my heart."
+
+"Oh, not at all!" said the stranger politely.
+
+They both laughed again, young, heart-whole, clear laughter, that echoed
+strangely on those world-old hills.
+
+"Words are very inadequate," said Elma presently.
+
+"Oh, one understands all right without words," said he; "but where is
+the rest of your party, I wonder? I suppose you were not alone?"
+
+"Mother has gone to a dinner-party," she answered. "Oh dear, what ought
+I to do? She will be so frightened! She is waiting for me. I must get
+some one to go and tell her I am all right. How could I sit here and
+forget how frightened she will be when I don't come!"
+
+"We had better wait a little longer, I think," he said. "You cannot walk
+just yet, can you?"
+
+"My shoes are all cut to pieces," she owned ruefully. "I suppose we must
+wait. It was very lucky for me you were passing just then."
+
+"Yes, I had just cut the shop for an hour or two, and I came round here
+to have a quiet smoke. Lost my way, as a matter of fact."
+
+"They must keep open very late at your shop," she remarked.
+
+He hesitated a moment before he answered, "Very late."
+
+"And I suppose you haven't dined?" she went on. "You must come back with
+me, and dine at the hotel. I cannot go on to the party now, at any rate;
+my clothes are in rags, and, besides, it must be quite late."
+
+"Do you know your way back to the hotel?" he asked, as the time went on
+and the jampannis remained, to all appearance, as dead as ever.
+
+"No, I have never walked down this way, and it is far too dark to
+attempt it now," said Elma very decidedly.
+
+The time passed pleasantly enough while they waited, and more than once
+their light-hearted laughter rang out into the night.
+
+At last they heard a pattering of bare feet coming down the road. The
+stranger hailed in Hindustani, and the natives stopped and began an
+excited jabbering all together, which the stranger answered in their own
+language.
+
+"These are the jampannis who were killed," he announced to Elma. "If you
+wish it, I will send one of them with a message to your mother, and the
+others can fetch a couple of jampans to take us to the hotel."
+
+"You seem to know Hindustani very well," she remarked, when the men had
+been sent on their various errands.
+
+"Yes, I have been some little time in India," he answered, "though I
+have only been a few days at Simla. Will you allow me to introduce
+myself? My name is Angus McIvor."
+
+"And I am Elma Macdonald. I hope we shall not meet any one at the hotel
+before I can get to my room. Oh! and will you let me go on in front, and
+get out before you come?--I am so dreadfully tattered and torn."
+
+"I promise not to look at you at all until you give me leave," he
+answered gravely. "And what about me? I have lost my hat, and as yet I
+have no idea of the extent of the damage my garments have sustained."
+
+"Then I won't look at you either," said Elma, and they laughed together
+again in the gayest _camaraderie_.
+
+Dinner was over at the Bellevue when they got back there; but they
+neither of them felt the want of other company. They had a very merry
+little dinner-party all to themselves, and Angus was able to look at the
+damsel errant he had rescued. Her beauty came upon him with a shock of
+surprise. He had seen many beautiful women in his time, but never
+anything so enchanting as the droop of her mouth, or the lovely curves
+of her throat, or the transparent candour of her sweet blue eyes.
+
+What Elma saw was a tall, well-knit young fellow, with a dark, plain
+face, a hawk nose, and grey eyes. He was clean-shaven; no moustache or
+beard concealed the masterful squareness of his jaw or the rather
+satirical curve of his thin lips.
+
+Directly dinner was over he left her, though she begged him to stay till
+her mother came home.
+
+"Mother would like to thank you for what you did for me," she said.
+
+"I will come and be thanked to-morrow morning, then," he said, laughing.
+"I shall want to know how you are after your accident, you know--that
+is, if I can get away from the shop."
+
+Mrs. Macdonald came home rather early, and not in the best of tempers.
+She had been a good deal alarmed and upset when Elma failed to arrive at
+Government House; and even after the jampanni had brought the message
+that her daughter was safe at the hotel she was extremely annoyed at
+Elma's absence from the party. There were several bachelor guests whom
+she would have been glad to introduce to her; and when she thought of
+the radiant figure in the shimmering white robe that she had last seen
+on the hotel verandah, she was ready to cry with vexation and
+disappointment.
+
+She listened with ill-concealed impatience to Elma's account of her
+accident. "And pray who is this Mr. McIvor who roams about rescuing
+distressed damsels?" she asked. "I never heard his name before."
+
+"He said he came out of a shop," said Elma simply.
+
+"A shop!" cried Mrs. Macdonald. "Really, Elma, you are no better than an
+idiot! The idea of asking a man who comes out of a shop to dine with you
+here! What will people say? You must be mad."
+
+"But he was very kind to me, mother," said Elma, "and he missed his own
+dinner by helping me. And, you know, I might have lain in that horrible
+place all night if he had not helped me out. I don't see that any one
+here can complain about his shop; they were not asked to meet him: we
+dined quite by ourselves, he and I."
+
+Mrs. Macdonald stamped her foot. "You are hopeless, Elma--quite
+hopeless!" she cried. "What was your aunt dreaming of to bring you up to
+have no more sense than a child of three years old?"
+
+"He is very gentlemanly," said Elma, still gently expostulating. "You
+will see for yourself: he is coming to call on you to-morrow, and to ask
+how I am."
+
+"Elma, I forbid you to see him again!" said the mother, now tragically
+impressive. "If he calls to-morrow, I shall see him alone. You are not
+to come into the room."
+
+"I am afraid he will think it very unkind and rude," said Elma
+regretfully; "and I can never forget how kind he was and how glad I was
+to see him when he came down the _kudd_ after me."
+
+But she made no further resistance to her mother's orders, having
+privately decided in her own mind to find out what shop in Simla had the
+advantage of his services, and to see him there herself and thank him
+again.
+
+Angus McIvor duly called next morning, and was received by Mrs.
+Macdonald alone; but what passed between them at that interview remains
+a secret between him and that lady.
+
+After lunch Elma strolled out for her usual solitary walk while her
+mother was enjoying her siesta. She wandered idly along under the trees
+down the road along which the jampannis had whirled her the evening
+before, and so to the broken edge of the _kudd_ where she had rolled
+over.
+
+There, sitting on the bank, smoking serenely, was Angus McIvor. He threw
+away his cigar, and got up as soon as she saw him.
+
+Her lovely face flushed, her blue eyes darkened with pleasure, as she
+held out her hand in greeting.
+
+"I thought you would be sure to come here," he said, smiling down upon
+her.
+
+"Oh, you expected me, then?" she said, and her eyes fell before his.
+
+"Why weren't you there this morning when I came to be thanked?" he
+asked.
+
+She turned her head away uneasily. "Mother did not wish me to come in,"
+she said.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Well, never mind that now," he said. "I will ask you again some other
+time. Now let us go up towards the top of Jacko; there are some pretty
+views I should like to show you."
+
+And, nothing loth, Elma went with him.
+
+"Why did your mother not wish you to see me this morning?"
+
+"I cannot tell," said Elma lamely.
+
+"Was it because of the shop?" he persisted. "Tell me. I promise you I
+will not mind. Was it?"
+
+The fair head drooped a little, and the answer came in a whisper he
+could hardly hear: "Yes."
+
+"And do you mind about the shop?"
+
+She raised indignant blue eyes to his. "Of course not!" she said. "You
+ought to know that without asking me."
+
+"Then will you meet me again to-morrow outside here?" he asked.
+
+"No, I cannot do that."
+
+"Then you are ashamed of the shop?"
+
+"Indeed, I am not!"
+
+"But I cannot meet you any other way," he urged. "I cannot come to see
+you, and you have not been to my shop yet since I came to Simla. So
+where can I see you? Will you meet me again?"
+
+"Indeed, I cannot!"
+
+"Then it is the shop?"
+
+The blue eyes were full of distress, the tender mouth grew more
+pathetic. "I will come just once," she said, "to show you I care nothing
+about the shop. But you must not ask me again to do what I know my
+mother would not like. I cannot deceive her."
+
+And on the next day they met again and walked together.
+
+He did not ask her to meet him again, but on the third day he joined her
+at the gate.
+
+"This is quite accidental, you know," he said, laughing down into her
+happy eyes.
+
+And as they walked in the tender green shadows upon wooded Jacko, his
+eyes said, "I love you," and hers faltered and looked down.
+
+And on the homeward way he took her hand. "I will not ask you to meet me
+again in secret, my sweetest," he said, "because I love you. I am
+ashamed that for one moment I doubted your innocent, unworldly heart. I
+will woo and win you openly as you should be wooed."
+
+And without waiting for an answer, he kissed her hand and left her.
+
+That evening there was a great reception at Government House, and the
+Viceroy's new aide-de-camp, Lord Angus McIvor Stuart, helped to receive
+the guests.
+
+"This is my 'shop,' Mrs. Macdonald," he said. "It was a silly and slangy
+way to speak of it; but, upon my honour, I never meant to deceive any
+one when I said it first."
+
+Then was Elma Macdonald openly wooed and won by the man who loved her.
+
+
+
+
+THE TREVERN TREASURE.
+
+BY LUCY HARDY.
+
+
+A garden in the west of England some two and a half centuries ago; an
+old-world garden, with prim yew hedges and a sundial, and, in one shady
+and sequestered nook, two persons standing; one, a man some forty years
+of age, tall and handsome, the other a lady of grace and beauty some
+fifteen years his junior. Both were cloaked and muffled and spoke in low
+and anxious tones.
+
+"An anxious task well done, sweetheart," the husband said at length, in
+tones of satisfaction; "and now, my darling, remember that this secret
+lies betwixt thou and I. Be heedful in keeping it--for thine own sake
+and that of our little babe. Should evil times arise, this hidden
+treasure may yet prove provision for our boy and for thee." So saying,
+he drew her arm within his own and led her into the house.
+
+Sir Ralph Trevern had strongly espoused the Royal cause from the
+commencement of the Civil troubles, and was now paying a hurried visit
+to his home, to conceal his chief valuables, and to arrange for the
+departure of his wife Sybil and his baby heir to Exeter; a town still
+loyal to the king, and where he hoped his wife and babe would be safer
+than in their remote Devonshire Manor House amid neighbours of
+Parliamentary sympathies.
+
+At Exeter Sybil Trevern remained until the city was forced to capitulate
+in the spring of 1646; and then, widowed and landless (for Sir Ralph had
+fallen at Marston Moor and his estate had been confiscated), she was
+thankful to accept the invitation of some Royalist friends, who had
+accompanied the queen, Henrietta Maria, in her secret flight to France
+some while before, and journeyed, with her babe, to join them in Paris.
+
+There was no opportunity for Sybil Trevern to return to her old home,
+now in the possession of enemies; and, remembering her husband's strict
+charge of secrecy, she was reluctant to mention the hidden treasure,
+even to her friends.
+
+"I will reveal it to our boy when he is of an age to understand it,"
+thought Lady Trevern; but she never lived to see her son grow into
+manhood, or even into youth.
+
+The trials and sorrows which had befallen her had told upon the gentle
+woman; and while the little Ralph was still a child, his mother passed
+into the Silent Land.
+
+The concealment of valuables in secret places frequently results in
+misadventure. Sybil had often described to her little son the concealed
+valuables, which, if the exiled Royalists were ever able to re-visit
+England, she hoped to recover for herself and for him; and, in later
+years, Sir Ralph could still recall the enigmatical words in which his
+mother had (possibly with the idea that the rhyme might, as it did,
+cling to his childish memory) spoken to him of the hidden treasure.
+
+    "Near the water, by the fern,
+    The Trevern secret you shall learn,"
+
+had often been whispered into his childish ears, and this rhyme was now
+the only clue that he possessed to the hiding-place of all that remained
+of his family's fortunes. The articles heedfully concealed by the elder
+Sir Ralph were of no small value. Besides papers and documents of some
+moment to the family, and some heirlooms (antique silver so prized as to
+have been exempted, even by the devoted Royalists, from contribution to
+the king's "war treasure chest," for which the University of Oxford, and
+many a loyal family, had melted down their plate), Sir Ralph had hidden
+a most valuable collection of jewels, notably a necklace of rubies and
+diamonds, which had been a treasured possession of the Treverns since
+the days of Elizabeth, when one of the family had turned "gentleman
+adventurer," become a companion of Drake and Hawkins, and won it as a
+prize from a Spanish galloon.
+
+In his childhood, the present Sir Ralph had heard (from old servants as
+well as from his mother) descriptions of these treasured jewels; but the
+secret of their hiding-place now rested with the dead.
+
+Sir Ralph grew to manhood, returned to England at the Restoration, and
+finally, after much suing and delay, succeeded in obtaining repossession
+of his small paternal estate. Then, for many months, did he devote
+himself to a careful, but utterly unavailing, search about his property,
+vainly seeking along the lake-side and all round the big pond for the
+concealed valuables--but never finding aught but disappointment. The
+neighbours said that the silent, morose man, who spent his days walking
+about the estate with bent head and anxious, searching eyes, had become
+a trifle crazed; and indeed his fruitless search after his hidden wealth
+had grown into a monomania.
+
+As the years rolled by, Sir Ralph became a soured and misanthropic man;
+for his estate had returned to him in a ruinous and burthened condition,
+and the acquisition of his hidden treasure was really necessary to clear
+off incumbrances and to repair the family fortunes.
+
+Lady Trevern often assured her husband that it was more than probable
+that the late Cromwellian proprietor had discovered the jewels during
+his occupancy, and that, like a prudent man, he kept his own counsel in
+the matter. But Sir Ralph still clung to the belief that somewhere in
+his grounds, "near the water and by the fern," the wealth he now so
+sorely needed lay concealed. That in this faith Sir Ralph lived and died
+was proved by his will, in which he bequeathed to the younger of his two
+sons, "and to his heirs," the jewels and other specified valuables which
+the testator firmly believed were still concealed _somewhere_ about the
+Trevern property. The widowed Lady Trevern, however, was a capable and
+practically-minded woman, little inclined to set much value upon this
+visionary idea of "treasure trove." She was most reluctant to see her
+sons waste their lives in a hopeless search after the missing property,
+and succeeded in impressing both her children with her own views
+regarding the utter hopelessness of their father's quest. And, as the
+years passed away, the story of the "Trevern Treasure" became merely a
+kind of "family legend." The ferns said nothing, and the water kept its
+secret.
+
+Fortune was not more kindly to the Treverns in the eighteenth century
+than she had been in the seventeenth. Roger Trevern, the elder son and
+inheritor of the estate, found it a hard struggle to maintain himself
+and his large family upon the impoverished property, while the younger
+son Richard, the designated heir of the missing treasure, became
+implicated in the Jacobite rising of 1715, was forced to fly to Holland
+after Mar's defeat, and died in exile, a few years after the disaster of
+Sherrifmuir, bequeathing a destitute orphan girl to his brother's
+charge.
+
+Roger Trevern, a most kindly man, welcomed this addition to his already
+large family without a murmur; and little Mary Trevern grew up with her
+cousins, beloved and kindly treated by all in the household. It was only
+as the child grew into womanhood that a change came over Madam Trevern's
+feelings towards her young niece; for Madam Trevern was a shrewd and
+sensible woman, a devoted, but also an ambitious, mother. Much as she
+liked sweet Mary Trevern, she had no desire to see her eldest son, the
+youthful heir of the sadly encumbered estate, wedded to a portionless
+bride, however comely and amiable. And Dick Trevern had lately been
+exhibiting a marked preference for his pretty cousin, a fact which
+greatly disturbed his mother's peace of mind.
+
+Mary herself knew this, and did not resent her aunt's feelings in the
+matter. The girl, as one of the elders among the children, had long been
+familiar with the story of the family straits and struggles, and could
+only acquiesce (though with a stifled sigh) in Madam Trevern's oft
+repeated axiom that "whenever Dick wedded, his bride must bring with her
+sufficient dowry to free the estate" from some of the mortgages which
+were crushing and crippling it. Mary knew that a marriage between
+herself and Dick could only result in bringing troubles upon both--and
+yet--and yet--love and prudence do not often go hand-in-hand--and
+although no word of actual wooing had ever passed between the young
+folk, both had, unfortunately, learned to love each other but too well.
+Wistfully did she think of that hidden treasure, now but a forlorn hope,
+yet all the hope she had.
+
+"And had the poor child but a dowry there is none to whom I would sooner
+see our Dick wedded," Madam Trevern once remarked to her husband; "for
+Molly is a good girl, and like a daughter to us already. But, Roger,
+'tis but sheer midsummer madness to dream of such a marriage now; truly
+'twould be but 'hunger marrying thirst.' Dick must seek for a bride who
+at least brings some small fortune with her; and is there not Mistress
+Cynthia at the Hall, young and comely, and well dowered, casting eyes of
+favour upon him already?"
+
+Roger Trevern sighed a little; he honestly liked Mary, and would have
+welcomed her heartily as a daughter-in-law, though prudent
+considerations told him that his wife spoke truly regarding the
+hopelessness of such a marriage for his son.
+
+And then Madam Trevern went on to discuss with her husband the scheme
+she had now much at heart, viz., the separation of the young folks by
+the transference of Mary to the family of a distant kinsman in London.
+
+"You do but lose your youth buried here with us, child," said Madam
+Trevern to Mary, with kindly hypocrisy one day, "while with our cousin
+Martin, who would be glad enough to take a bright young maid like thee
+to be companion to his ailing wife, thou mayst see the world, and
+perchance make a great marriage, which will cause thee to look down upon
+us poor Devon rustics." But Mary wept silently, though she was ready,
+even willing, to go to London as desired.
+
+It was the girl's last day in the old home; her modest outfit had been
+prepared and packed, and the old waggoner was to call on the morrow to
+convey Mary and her uncle (who was to be her escort to the wonderful,
+far-off "London town") to Exeter; whence, by slow and tedious stages,
+the travellers would reach the metropolis at last.
+
+Dick, who had been astutely sent away from home for a few weeks, knew
+nothing of his cousin's intended departure--Madam Trevern had purposely
+schemed thus to escape any "farewells" between the young people,
+arranging Mary's London visit very suddenly; and "perhaps 'twas the
+wisest," the girl sighed to herself as she wandered for the last time
+round the old, familiar garden, and seated herself, _alone!_ on the
+mossy well curb, where she and Dick had so often sat and talked together
+on sweet summer evenings in the past.
+
+Mary's heart was indeed sad within her, and visions of what "might have
+been" would keep welling up before her. Oh! if only some good fairy had
+been keeping back the secret of the hidden treasure to reveal it now,
+how happy it would be.
+
+Her solitary musings were, however, put to flight by the appearance of
+the younger children, with whom she was a great favourite, and who had
+gained an hour's respite from their usual "bed-time" upon this, their
+cousin's last night at home. Tom, and Will, and Sally, and Ben, had
+indeed received the tidings of their beloved "Molly's" impending
+departure with great dismay; and their vociferous lamentations were
+hardly to be checked by their mother's assurances that one day "Cousin
+Molly" might come back to see them, when she was "a great lady, riding
+in her coach and six," and would bring them picture-books and gilt
+gingerbread.
+
+It was with a strange pang at her heart that Mary now submitted to the
+loving, if rather boisterous, caresses of the urchins who climbed her
+lap and clung around her neck.
+
+But Mary had not chosen her quiet seat with a view to childhood's romps
+or she had chosen a safer one. As it was the shout of merriment was
+quickly followed by a sudden cry, a splash, and a simultaneous
+exclamation of dismay from Mary and the children. Will, the youngest,
+most troublesome, and therefore best beloved of the family, the
+four-years-old "baby," had slipped on the curb of the well,
+overbalanced himself, and fallen in; dropping a toy into the water as he
+did so. In a moment Mary was on her feet. Seizing the bucket, she called
+the elder boys to work the windlass, and, with firm, but quiet
+instructions and a face as white as death, consigned herself to the
+unknown deep.
+
+Near the bottom of the well, which was not very deep, she came upon her
+little cousin suspended by his clothes to a hook fastened in the well
+side. She was not long in disengaging the little fellow's clothes from
+the friendly hook, and was about to signal to be drawn up, when beneath
+the hook, and explanatory of it--"near the water, by the fern"--what was
+it? A large hole in the side of the well, and in it--the Trevern
+treasure, found at last!
+
+Though the lapse of many years had rotted some of the leather covering
+of the jewel casket, the gems themselves, when lifted out, flashed forth
+in undimmed beauty; the silver cups and flagons, if discoloured, were
+still intact, and the papers in the metal case were well preserved.
+
+These last proved of great importance to Roger Trevern, enabling him to
+substantiate his claim to some disputed property, which was quite
+sufficient to relieve his estate of all its embarrassments.
+
+And as for Mary, she restored her youngest cousin to his mother's arms,
+and took the eldest to her own.
+
+
+
+
+A MEMORABLE DAY.
+
+BY SARAH DOUDNEY.
+
+
+Miss Tillotson's grey parrot had called "Clarissa" a dozen times at
+least, and was listening with his cunning head on one side for footsteps
+on the stairs. Breakfast was ready; an urn, shaped something like a
+sepulchral monument, was steaming on the table, and near it stood an old
+china jar filled with monthly roses. It was a warm, bright morning--that
+twenty-ninth of August in the year 1782. The windows at each end of the
+room were wide open, but scarcely a breath of air wandered in, or
+stirred the lilac bushes in the garden. For the Tillotsons' house could
+boast of a respectable strip of ground, although it stood in a street in
+Portsea.
+
+At a quarter past eight Clarissa Tillotson came downstairs, and entered
+the room with a quick, firm step, taking no notice of the parrot's
+salutation. She was a tall, fair girl of nineteen; her hair, worn
+according to the fashion of that period, in short curls, was almost
+flaxen; her eyes were clear blue, her features regular, and, but for a
+certain hardness and sternness about the mouth, she might have been
+pronounced beautiful. She was dressed in a short-waisted gown of white
+muslin, with a blue girdle; her bodice was cut square, leaving her neck
+uncovered; her tight sleeves reached to the wrists. The gown was so
+scanty, and the skirt clung so closely to her figure, that it made her
+appear even taller than she really was. And at this day, on the wall of
+a modern London mansion, Clarissa's grandchildren and
+great-grandchildren behold her in a tarnished gilt frame, habited in
+the very costume which she wore on that memorable morning.
+
+"Good-morning, Anthony," she said stiffly, as a young man, two years
+older than herself, made his appearance.
+
+"Good-morning, sister," he answered in a cheery tone, drawing a step
+nearer as if he meant to give her a kiss. But Clarissa drew up her
+stately figure to its full height, and turned quickly to the table.
+
+Her brother coloured with annoyance. There had been a quarrel between
+them on the preceding day, and Anthony was willing to make the first
+advance towards reconciliation. But he saw that Clarissa intended to
+keep him at a distance, and he knew the obstinacy of her nature too well
+to renew his attempt. He took his seat with a sigh, thinking how bright
+the home-life would be if the cloud of her unyielding temper did not too
+frequently darken the domestic sunshine.
+
+"I find that father is not well enough to come down yet," he said at
+last, breaking an awkward silence. "He means to leave his room this
+afternoon."
+
+"Dr. Vale charged him to be very cautious," rejoined Clarissa.
+
+These young people were motherless; the daughter reigned as mistress of
+her father's house, acknowledging no control save his, and that was of
+the mildest kind. Captain Tillotson was the most indulgent of parents;
+his wife had died while Clarissa was still too young to realize her
+loss, and the child had been entirely left to the care of an old
+servant, who allowed her to have her own way in all things. At school
+she had been forced to submit to discipline; but her strong will was
+never conquered, and she generally contrived to gain an ascendency over
+her companions. Having retired from long and honourable service in the
+Royal Navy, the captain settled himself at home, to pass his old age in
+peace; and Clarissa proved herself an affectionate daughter. But Anthony
+was scarcely so easy to manage as her father; to him, his sister's word
+was not always law, and she sometimes found herself good-humouredly
+contradicted.
+
+"If I give in," thought she, going over the before-mentioned quarrel,
+"he will think that he has got the mastery. No; I will treat him with
+marked coldness until he makes an apology."
+
+Thoroughly chilled by her frigid tone and manner, Anthony made few
+efforts to sustain the conversation. Breakfast was finished in silence,
+and he rose rather hastily from his seat at the table.
+
+"I am going on board the _Royal George_ this morning," he said, moving
+towards the door. "If my father asks for me, Clarissa, please tell him
+that I wanted to say a few words to Lieutenant Holloway. He will have to
+sail again shortly."
+
+"Very well," replied Clarissa, indifferently.
+
+The hall-door closed behind him, and she rung the bell to have the
+breakfast-table cleared. Then the sunshine tempted her to saunter into
+the garden, and gather a bunch of sweet lavender, but from some
+unexplained cause her mind was ill at ease. She could take no pleasure
+in her flowers; no interest in the vine which had been her especial
+care; and she returned to the house, determined to spend the morning at
+her worsted-work. Seating herself near the open window, she drew her
+frame towards her, and arranged her crewels. The shining needle darted
+in and out, and she was soon deeply absorbed in her occupation.
+
+Every piece of work has a history of its own; and this quaint
+representation of the woman of Samaria was fated to be of great interest
+to succeeding generations. But the busy worker little guessed what
+memories would hereafter cling to that morning's labour, nor dreamed
+that some day those very stitches would remind her of the darkest hours
+in her life.
+
+She worked on until the old clock in the hall struck ten; and at the
+same moment a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, strewing the
+table with petals from the over-blown roses in the jar, and blowing
+Clarissa's curls about her head. It was a welcome breeze, coming as it
+did after the sultry stillness, and she stood up between the two windows
+to enjoy the draught. Then, after pacing the long room to and fro for
+awhile, she sat down to her frame again, and began to think about her
+brother Anthony.
+
+Had she been quite right after all? Would it not have been well to have
+received that kiss of peace? Was it such a very meritorious thing to
+hold out until her adversary had humbled himself before her? Even if the
+apology were made, would it not be rather a poor victory--one of those
+conquests which degrade instead of exalting the conqueror? Anthony was a
+noble fellow, a brother of whom most girls would be proud. His only
+fault was that determination to maintain his own opinion; but was that
+indeed a fault? She worked faster, and almost decided that it was not.
+
+So busy was her brain that time flew by unheeded, and she started to
+hear the clock striking one. Scarcely had the stroke died away, when a
+shrill cry came ringing through the quiet street, driving the colour out
+of her face in an instant. Springing up from her chair, she hurried to
+the window that overlooked the pavement, and saw that people had come to
+their doors with dismayed faces, for a woman was standing on the
+causeway, raising that terrible wail.
+
+"It's all true--it's all true!" she shrieked. "The _Royal George_ has
+gone down at Spithead."
+
+The two maid-servants rushed upstairs in affright, for the cry had
+reached their ears. The captain heard it in his room overhead, and came
+down in his dressing-gown and slippers; but his daughter scarcely stayed
+to exchange a word with him. Mechanically seizing the garden-hat and
+shawl that hung in the hall, she put them on, and ran out into the
+street, setting off at full speed for the dockyard gates. Could it be
+true? Alas! the news was confirmed before she reached her destination,
+and the first wail was but the herald of many others. Even in that hour
+of universal distress and consternation people took note of the tall,
+fair young lady whose face and lips were as white as the dress she wore.
+
+The _Royal George_ had lately arrived at Spithead after a cruise, and on
+that fatal morning she was undergoing the operation known as a
+"parliament heel." The sea was smooth and the weather still, and the
+business was begun early in the morning, a number of men from Portsmouth
+dockyard going on board to assist the ship's carpenters. It was found
+necessary, it is said, to strip off more of the sheathing than had been
+intended; and the men, eager to reach the defect in the ship's bottom,
+were induced to heel her too much. Then indeed "the land-breeze shook
+her shrouds," throwing her wholly on one side; the cannon rolled over to
+the side depressed; the water rushed in; and the gallant ship met her
+doom. Such was the story, told in hurried and broken words, that
+Clarissa heard from the pale lips of an old seaman; but he could give no
+other tidings. The boats of the fleet had put off to the rescue; that
+was all he could tell.
+
+There was no hope in Clarissa's heart as she turned her steps homewards.
+Anthony had gone down--gone down with Admiral Kempenfeldt and his eight
+hundred. The same breeze that had scattered the rose-petals and played
+with her curls had a deadlier mission to perform. She remembered how she
+had stood rejoicing in that sudden gust of cool wind, and the thought
+turned her faint and sick as she reached her father's house.
+
+"Clarissa," cried the captain, meeting her at the door, "what is all
+this? Surely it can't be true. Where's Anthony?"
+
+Ay, where was Anthony? She threw her arms round the old man's neck, and
+hid her eyes upon his shoulder that she might not see his face.
+
+"Father--dear father! He said he was going to see Lieutenant Holloway on
+board----"
+
+She could not finish her sentence, and there was no need of more words.
+Captain Tillotson was a brave man; he had faced death many a time
+without flinching, but this was a blow which he was wholly unprepared to
+meet. Putting his daughter gently aside, he sat down on a sofa, and
+looked straight before him with that terrible blank look that tells its
+own tale of a stroke that has crushed out all strength. The servants,
+glancing from the father to the daughter, saw that on both faces this
+sudden sorrow had done the work of years. What was time? Was it months
+or minutes ago that the first cry had sounded through the street?
+
+"If I had only kissed him!" Clarissa did not know that she was saying
+the words aloud. To her, indeed, this cup was doubly bitter, for it was
+mingled with the gall of remorse. But for that hard nature of hers, she
+might have had the sweetness of a kind parting to think upon. Had he
+forgiven her, in his loving heart, while the great ship was going down,
+and the water was taking away his life? Ah, she might never know that,
+until the cruel sea gave up its dead.
+
+There was a noise of wheels in the street; but what were noises to her?
+The sound drew nearer; the wheels stopped at the door, but it could be
+only some friend, who had come in haste to tell them the bad news which
+they knew already.
+
+Battered, and bruised, and dripping with water, a man descended from the
+hackney coach, and Clarissa started up.
+
+The face was so pale, the whole aspect so strange, that she could not
+receive the great truth all at once. It was not until he entered the
+room, and knelt down, wet and trembling as he was, at his father's feet,
+that she realized her brother's safety.
+
+Anthony had been on the upper deck when the ship sank, and was among
+that small number who escaped death. All those who were between decks
+shared the fate of the great Admiral who went down with his sword in its
+sheath, and ended his threescore years and ten of hard service, in sight
+of shore. The many were taken, the few left; but although hundreds of
+homes were made desolate that day, there were some from whence the
+strain of thanksgiving ascended, tempered by the national woe.
+
+People were wont to say afterwards that Clarissa never again looked so
+young and fair as she did before the blow fell. But if that day's agony
+robbed her of her bloom, it left with her the "meek and quiet spirit"
+which never comes to some of us until it is gained through a great
+sorrow.
+
+
+
+
+DORA.
+
+_AN OSTLER'S STORY._
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+Tell you a story, Master 'Arry? Ah! there's only one story as ought to
+be told in this yer stable, and that's the old un as allus hupsets me to
+tell. But I don't mind a-goin' over the old ground once ag'in, Master
+'Arry, as you know werry well, if these yer gents 'as a mind to listen
+to a hold man's yarn. It beats all the printed stories as ever I see,
+but then, as I ain't no scholar, and can't see werry well neither,
+p'raps that ain't no much wonder arter all. Reading ain't much in my
+line, yer see, sir, and, as the old master used to say, "Bring up yer
+boys to the prerfishuns yer means 'em to foller." 'Osses is my
+prerfishun, sir, and 'osses I was brought up to.
+
+Excuse me just a minute, sir, if yer don't mind a-settin' on this yer
+stool. I don't like to see nobody a-leanin' ag'in that there post. That
+were "Snowflake's" stall, sir, in the old time, and "Snowflake" were
+little Dora's pony.
+
+My father were os'ler here, sir, afore I were born, and I growed up to
+the stable, Master 'Arry, just as your ole father growed up to the 'All.
+It were in ole Sir Markham's time, this were--ole Sir Markham, whose
+picture hangs above the mantel in the dinin'-'all, as fine a hold
+English gen'leman as ever crossed a 'unter and follered the 'ounds. The
+first time as ever I see Sir Markham were when I were about four year
+old. O' course, we lived on the estate, but I don't know as I'd ever
+been up to the 'All till that partickler mornin', when I came wi' a
+message for my father, and meets ole Sir Markham in the park. Now, yer
+know, Sir Markham were a queer ole chap when he liked. He didn't take no
+nonsens from nobody, he didn't. I've seen him thrash the keeper afore
+now with his own ridin' whip, and he wouldn't 'a' stood partickler about
+a boy or two, and as there'd been a deal of fruit stole out o' the
+orchard about that time, he thought he'd jist up and frighten me a bit.
+So he hollers out--"Hi! there, you boy, what right 'a' you got in my
+park?" but I see a sort o' twinkle in his eye, so I knowed he weren't
+real cross, and so I up and says, "Ain't boys got a right to go where
+their fathers is?" He didn't say nothing more to me then, but when he
+sees my father he says, "That's a smart boy o' yours, Jim," he says,
+"and when he's a bit older yer must 'ave 'im up 'ere to 'elp."
+
+Well, sir, I got a bit older in time, and I come up 'ere to 'elp, and,
+'ceptin' for a very little while, I've been 'ere ever since.
+
+I were a boy of fourteen when the things 'appened as make up the rest o'
+my story. Sir Markham he were a matter o' sixty year old, I should say,
+and Miss Dora, as I see it said in a book, once, "sweet, wery sweet,
+wery, wery sweet seventeen."
+
+I allus 'ad a hadmiration for Miss Dora. "Darling Dora" they called 'er
+at the 'All, and so did I, when nobody wasn't listenin'. Nobody couldn't
+know 'er without admirin' 'er, but I 'ad a special sort of hadmiration
+for 'er as 'ad made me do any mortal thing she asked me, whatever it
+might 'ave costed.
+
+Yer see, when I were quite a little chap, and she were no much bigger,
+she ses to me one day, when I were a bit scolded, she ses, "Never mind,
+Jim," she ses, "cheer up; you'll be a man o' some sort some day;" and I
+tell you, though I allus 'ad a hidea that way myself, when she said it I
+grow'd a hinch straight off. If yer believes in yourself, Master 'Arry,
+yer can do a lot, but if somebody else believes in yer there ain't
+nothink in the whole world what yer can't do.
+
+My particler business in the stable were Miss Dora's pony, Snowflake,
+darling Dora's darling, as it got called o' times. She rode out a great
+deal, did Miss Dora, and she rode well, and I generally 'ad to foller
+'er on the bay cob. She'd spend a lot o' time about this yer stable, one
+way and another, and we got to be werry partickler friends. Not as I
+presum'd, mind yer, nor as she forgot 'er station; she were just a
+hangel, she were, what couldn't be spoilt by nobody's company, and what
+couldn't 'elp a-makin' o' other people wish as they were summut in the
+hangel line, too.
+
+But yer a-gettin' impatient I see, gents, and I ax yer pardon for
+a-ramblin' a bit.
+
+Well, it were Chris'mas time, as it might be now, and young Markham
+(that were your father, Master 'Arry) he were 'ome from Oxford for 'is
+'olidays, with as nice a young fellow as ever stepped, as 'ad come with
+him to spend Chris'mas at the 'All. They called 'im the "Captain," not
+that he were a harmy captain, or anythink of that, he were a captain of
+summut at the college--maybe football or summut else. Somehow he often
+came 'ome with young Markham at 'oliday times, and 'im and Miss Dora was
+partickler friendly like.
+
+It were not a werry snowy Chris'mas that year, though there were plenty
+of frost, and the lake in the park would 'a' borne the London coach and
+four without a crack. Young Markham and the Captain and Miss Dora did a
+deal o' skatin', and ole Sir Markham invited a lot o' friends to come
+and stay Chris'mas for the sake o' the sport. They did say as Aunt
+Dorothy as Miss Dora were called arter 'ad been a-preachin' at 'im for
+a-neglectin' o' Miss Dora and a-keepin 'er at the 'All without no
+society, and I s'pose that's why Sir Markham were a-aggitatin' himself a
+bit cos' we never 'ad no fuss at Chris'mas as a rule.
+
+Well, we was werry busy at that time, I can tell yer; several of the
+wisitors brought their own 'osses with them, and me and my father had
+plenty to do a-lookin' arter 'em.
+
+Among the wisitors as come from London were a real military hofficer, a
+reg'lar scaff'ld pole he were, for length and breadth, with mustaches as
+'ud 'a' done for reins, if 'e'd only been a 'oss. He weren't no
+favourite o' mine, not from the fust. He were a bit too harbitry for me.
+He were a-thinkin' he were a-goin' to hintroduce 'is harmy regerlations
+into our stables; but he allus 'ad to wait the longest, for all 'is
+hinterferin'. But what used to rile me the most with him were 'is nasty,
+sneerin' ways at young Markham's friend, the Captain. Yer see, sir, he
+were a real harmy captain, and so I s'pose he were a bit jealous o' our
+young Captain, as was a lot better than 'im, arter all. O' course I
+didn't see it at the time, but I've said to myself lots o' times since,
+it were a reg'lar plant, that's what it were, that Aunt Dorothy 'ad
+brought the big soldier down o' purpose for Miss Dora to fall in love
+with; but 'e were just a little bit too late.
+
+Well, yer know, gents, I told yer as I were quite a youngster at the
+time, and though ole Sir Markham said as I were werry sharp, I must
+confess as I didn't quite understand 'ow things were a-goin' on. I
+noticed that the two captains kept pretty clear of each other, and that
+Miss Dora never came near the stables for three days together, which
+were a werry unusual thing for 'er; and one of the ole servants at the
+'All told me as the hofficer 'ad been hasking Sir Markham if he might
+pay his addresses to Miss Dora, and that Sir Markham 'ad said he might.
+
+My ole father were a-hactin' a bit queer about that time, too; he kept
+a-hasken' me if I'd like to be a postboy, or drive the London coach, or
+anything o' that, cos', he ses, "Yer know, Jim, Miss Dora 'll be
+marryin' somebody one o' these days, and maybe you'll 'ave to find
+summut else to do when Snowflake's gone." "Well," I ses, "if Miss Dora
+got married and go'd away, I reckon she'd take me with 'er to look arter
+'er 'osses, so I sha'n't want no postboy's place, nor coachun's neither,
+as I sees." And father he seemed pretty satisfied, he did, only 'e says,
+"If ever you should want to drive to Scotland, Jim," he ses, "you go
+across the moor to the Burnley Beeches, and then yer bears off to yer
+right by the Ambly Arms, three mile along you'll fine the great North
+Road, and there yer are."
+
+Well, I didn't take no notice of this, though father he kept on sayin'
+o' summut o' the sort all day long, and when it came to evenin', bein'
+Chris'mas Eve, we went up to the 'All to 'ave supper in the kitchen, and
+drink ole Sir Markham's 'elth. Sir Markham come down in the servants'
+'all and made a speech, and some o' the gents come down too; but while
+things were a-goin' at their 'ighest, my father he says to me, "Jim," 'e
+says, "if ever you want to go to Scotland you go across the moor to the
+Burnley Beeches, and then yer bears off to yer right by the Ambly Arms,
+three mile along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."
+"All right," I says, angry like, "I don't want no Scotland; what d'yer
+want to bother me for with yer Burnley Beeches, and yer Ambly Arms?"
+"Jim," 'e ses solemn, "yer never know how useful a bit of hinformation
+may come in sometimes; now," he says, "you'd better run over to the
+stables, and see if all is a-goin' on right." Well, I see it was no use
+argifyin', so off I starts. I sees as I comes near the stables as there
+were a light there, as ought not to be, and o' course, I run back'ard to
+tell my father, but lor, I thought he were off 'is 'ed, for all he ses
+was, "If ever you wants to go to Scotland, Jim, it's across the moor to
+the Burnley Beeches, off to yer right, by the Ambly Arms, three mile
+along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."
+
+They'd been a-drinkin' a bit 'ard some of 'em, and I ses to myself
+father's been a'elpin' of 'em, and I tears off to the stables to see
+what was up.
+
+Well, when I gets here, I comes in at that there door behind yer, sir,
+and what should I see, but Miss Dora in Snowflake's stall, a-kissin' and
+a-cryin' over 'im like mad. She didn't take no notice o' me no more'n if
+I hadn't been there at all, and I came and stood ag'in that there post
+as you were a-leanin' ag'in just now, sir. Little Dora were a-sobbin' as
+if 'er 'art would break, and she were a-tryin' to say "Good-bye."
+They're only little words, sir, at the most, but werry often they're the
+'ardest words in all the world to say.
+
+Well, sir, to make a long story short, it were just this: Sir Markham
+had told 'er as she mustn't think nothink of young Markham's college
+friend, 'cos 'e were poor and 'adn't nothink but 'is wits and 'is
+learnin' to live on, and that the tall soldier 'ad been a-haskin' for
+'er, and he'd promised 'er to 'im; and it 'ad clean broke 'er 'art, and
+so she 'ad come down to this yer stable where everythink loved 'er to
+tell 'er sorrows to her old pet Snowflake, to bury her face in his snowy
+neck, and wipe 'er eyes on his flowin' mane.
+
+But, afore I 'ad time to say anythink, who should foller me in at the
+door but the young Captain hisself, and 'e come and stood by me a moment
+without sayin' a word. He were werry pale, and 'is eyes shone like fire,
+and at last he ses, in a hoarse sort of a whisper, "Jim," 'e ses, "they
+wants to marry darling Dora to the big swaggerin' soldier, and I want
+yer to 'elp me prewent 'em." "'Elp yer prewent 'em," I ses; "why, I'll
+prewent 'em myself. I ain't werry big, p'r'aps, and maybe I couldn't
+reach 'is bloated face, but a stone 'ud find 'is head as quickly as it
+did the big Bible chap as David killed; and maybe I can shie." I hadn't
+practised on ole Sir Markham's apples for nothink.
+
+Well, sir, I needn't say as it didn't come to that. The fact is,
+everythink were arranged. It were a matter o' seventy miles to Scotland
+by the road, and they'd made up their minds to start for Gretna Green as
+soon as the wisitors 'ad gone to bed. Father were in the swim, and
+that's why he'd been a-'intin' to me all day and 'ad sent me to see what
+the light meant. My father 'e were a artful ole man, 'e were; he knowed
+better nor to 'ave anythink to do with it hisself. Why, I b'leave Sir
+Markham 'ud a murdered 'im if he 'ad, but me, o' course,--I was only a
+boy, and did as I were told.
+
+Well, sir, a-hactin' under horders, I were a-waitin' with the
+post-chaise at them Burnley Beeches at eleven o'clock. I'd been
+a-waitin' some time, and I begun to be afraid as they weren't a-comin'.
+At last I see a white somethink comin' along, and in another minute
+they was alongside. I shall never forget that night. Miss Dora fainted
+directly she were inside the carriage, and to me she looked as if she
+were dead. "For God's sake, and for Dora's sake, drive for your life,
+Jim!" said the young Captain, and I just did drive for my werry life. It
+was werry dark and I couldn't see much, and it must a bin a-rainin' or
+summut else,--anyhow there were a preshus lot o' water got in my eyes,
+till I couldn't see nothink. Father had taken care to git the 'osses in
+good condition, and they went away as though they knew as they were
+a-carryin' their darlin' Dora from death to life.
+
+From the Burnley Beeches I drove as I 'ad been directed, past the Ambly
+Arms, and three mile further I found the great North Road, and there I
+wore. You never know how useful a bit o' information may come in
+sometimes. It were pretty straight work now, and the only thing I 'ad to
+fear was a-wearin' out me 'osses afore we reached the Border. At two
+o'clock we stopped and baited, and the young Captain he give me the tip.
+He says, "Don't go _too_ fast," he ses; "they won't be arter us for an
+hour or two yet, if they come at all. I've given 'em summut else to look
+for fust," 'e ses, "and it'll take 'em all their time."
+
+Weil, there ain't no need to make a long story out o' our run to
+Scotland; we got there safe enough arter imaginin' as we was follered by
+highwaymen, and goblins, and soldiers, and hall sorts o' other hevil
+sperits, which were nothink but fancy arter all.
+
+Why, bless yer, we 'adn't no real need to fear; the young Captain he
+were one too many for 'em, he were, in more ways nor one. Afore he came
+away he smashed a big hole in the ice, in the middle of the lake, and
+put 'is 'at and Miss Dora's muff on the edge of the hole; and they were
+a-breaking up the ice and dragging the lake all Chris'mas Day instead of
+a-follerin' us.
+
+Next thing came the weddin' in the blacksmith's shop, where the young
+Captain took our darling Dora all to hisself, with ne'er a bridesmaid
+but me to give 'er away and everythink else. Poor little Dora, she
+fainted right off ag'in directly it were all over; and the young Captain
+he flushed up regular, like one o' them hero chaps as they put in books.
+I never see such a change in any one afore or since. 'E seemed as if 'e
+could do anything now Miss Dora were hall 'is own. I tell yer, sir, you
+can't fight nothing like 'arf so 'ard for yourself as yer can if you've
+got some one else to fight for.
+
+After the weddin', the Captain put up at the "Blacksmith's Arms," where
+'e writes a long letter to ole Sir Markham, and one to your father,
+Master 'Arry, which he give me to deliver, and with which I started 'ome
+ag'in.
+
+Ole Sir Markham never forgave the young Captain for a-runnin' off wi'
+Miss Dora, and if it 'adn't 'a' bin for your father, Master 'Arry, I
+shouldn't never 'a' come back to the 'All. Arter that they went abroad
+to some foreign place as I never heerd of, and they lost track of 'em up
+at the 'All too arter a bit; though I know as your father, Master 'Arry,
+used to send 'em lots o' things without Sir Markham a-knowin' anythink
+about it. And then came the letter with the black edge as said as our
+Dora 'ad died o' one of them furren fevers as I didn't even know the
+name of, and arter that we never heard no more. Poor ole Sir Markham
+began to break up werry soon arter that. He were not like the same man
+arter Miss Dora went, and werry soon 'e kept to the 'ouse altogether,
+and we never saw nothink of 'im out o' doors.
+
+Next thing we 'eard as he were ill, and everybody were a-wishin' as Miss
+Dora 'ud come back and comfort 'im. At last, when he were really
+a-dyin', 'e kep' on a-callin' her, "Dora, Dora," in 'is wanderin's like,
+and nobody couldn't answer 'im, their 'arts was that full as there
+weren't no room for words. I remember that night, sir, as if it were
+yesterday, and yet it were forty year ago, Master 'Arry, ten year afore
+you were born. It were Chris'mas Eve, and ole Sir Markham he were
+keepin' on a-haskin' for Miss Dora, and I couldn't stand it no longer,
+so I come over 'ere to smoke my pipe and be to myself, yer see, and bide
+my feelin's like. Well, I were a-sittin' on a stool in that there
+corner, a-thinkin' about ole Sir Markham and our darlin' Dora, when I
+looks up, and as true as I ever see anythin' in my life I see her
+a-standin' there afore me. She didn't take no notice of me, though, but
+she run into Snowflake's stall there, sir, and buried her pretty face in
+'is neck and stroked his mane and patted his sides, then she laughed one
+o' her silv'ry laughs and clapped 'er 'ands and calls out, "'Ome again,
+'ome again at last; happy, happy 'ome. Jim, Jim, where's that lazy Jim?"
+But lor', sir, she were gone ag'in afore I could get up off the stool. I
+rushed up to the 'All like lightnin', I can tell yer, and I see a bright
+light a-shinin' in ole Sir Markham's bedroom. I never knowed 'ow I got
+up them stairs, but I heerd ole Sir Markham cry out as loud as ever I
+heerd 'im in my life, "Dora, Dora, come at last; darling Dora, darling!"
+'E never said no more, did ole Sir Markham, she had taken 'im away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+You'll excuse me a-haskin' you not to lean ag'in that post, won't you,
+sir? It's a kind o' sort o' friend o' mine. There ain't a sorrow as I've
+ever had these forty year that I haven't shared with that post. It 'ave
+been watered by little Dora's tears, and it 'ave been watered by mine,
+and there ain't nothink in the 'ole world as I walues more. It ain't for
+the likes o' me to talk o' lovin' a hangel like 'er, sir, but I 'av'n't
+never loved no one else from that day to this, and maybe when my turn
+comes at last, Master 'Arry, to go where there ain't no difference
+between rich and poor, I may 'ear 'er bright sweet voice cry out ag'in
+to me: "'Ome ag'in, Jim: happy, happy 'ome!"
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE PEACE.
+
+BY NORA RYEMAN.
+
+
+In the heart of England stands a sleepy hollow called "Green Corner,"
+and in this same sleepy hollow stands a fine old English manor house
+styled "Green Corner Manor." It belongs to the Medlicott family, who
+have owned it for generations. In their picture gallery hangs a most
+singular picture, which is known far and wide as "The Portrait of Little
+Peace." It depicts a beautiful child in the quaint and picturesque
+costume of the age of King Charles II. A lamb stands by her side, and a
+tame ringdove is perched on her wrist. Her eyes are deeply, darkly blue,
+the curls which "fall adown her back are yellow, like ripe corn."
+Beneath this portrait in tarnished golden letters are these words of
+Holy Writ, "Blessed are the peacemakers," and if you read the chronicles
+of the Medlicott family you will read the history of this child. It was
+written by Dame Ursula, the wife of Godfrey Medlicott, and runs as
+under:--
+
+"It was New Year's Eve, and my heart was heavy, so also was my
+husband's. For 'Verily our house had been left unto us desolate.' Our
+son Hilary had died in France, and our daughter, Grace, slept in the
+chancel of the parish church with dusty banners once borne by heroic
+Medlicotts waving over her marble tomb. 'Would God, that I had died for
+thee, my boy,' said dead Hilary's father when he looked at the empty
+chair in the chimney corner; 'and, my darling, life is savourless
+without thee,' I cried in bitterness of spirit, as I looked at the
+little plot of garden ground which had been known as Mistress Gracie's
+garden when my sweet one lived. Scarcely had this cry escaped my lips
+when a most strange thing befel. Seated on the last of the terrace steps
+was a little child, who as I passed her stretched out her hand and
+caught fast hold of my gown. I looked down, and there, beside me, was a
+most singular and beautiful child. The moonlight fell on her small, pale
+face and long, yellow hair, and I saw that she was both poorly and
+plainly clad. 'What do you want, my little maid?' I asked. 'You, madam,'
+she said serenely. 'From whence have you come?' was my next query. 'From
+a prison in London town,' was the strange reply. Doubtless this child
+(so I reasoned) was the daughter of some poor man who had suffered for
+conscience' sake; and, mayhap, some person who pitied his sad plight had
+taken the girl and thrown her on our charity, or, rather, mercy.
+'Child,' said I, 'wilt come into the Manor with me, and have some
+chocolate and cake?' 'That will I, madam,' she answered softly. 'I came
+on purpose to stay with you.' The little one has partly lost her wits, I
+thought, but I said nothing, and the stranger trotted after me into my
+own parlour, just as a tame lamb or a little dog might have done. She
+took her seat on a tabouret at my knee, and ate her spiced cake and
+sipped her chocolate with a pretty, modest air. Just so was my Gracie
+wont to sit, and even as I thought of her my dim eyes grew dimmer still
+with tears. At last they fell, and some of them dropped on the strange
+guest's golden head, which she had confidingly placed on my knee.
+'Don't, sweet madam,' she said, 'don't grieve overmuch! You will find
+balm in giving balm! You will find comfort in giving comfort! For _I am
+Peace_, and I have come to tarry with you for a little space!' I
+perceived that the child's wits were astray, but, somehow, I felt
+strangely drawn to her, and as she had nowhere else to go I kept her
+with me, and that New Year's Eve she slept in my Grace's bed, and on
+the succeeding day she was clothed in one of my lost ewe lamb's gowns,
+and all in the household styled her Little Peace, because she gave no
+other name at all.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Time passed on--and the strange child still abode with us, and every
+day we loved her more, for she 'went about doing good,' and, what is
+more, became my schoolmistress, and instructed me in the holy art of
+charity. For my own great woe had made me forgetful of the woes and
+afflictions of others. This is how she went about her work. One winter
+day, when the fountain in the park was frozen, the child, who had been
+a-walking, came up to me and said, 'Dear madam, are apples good?' 'Of a
+surety they are--excellent for dessert, and also baked, with spiced ale.
+Wherefore dost ask?' 'Because old Gaffer Cressidge, and the dame his
+wife, are sitting eating baked apples and dry bread over in Ashete
+village, and methinks that soup would suit them better. Madam, we must
+set the pot boiling, and I will take them some. And, madam, dear, there
+must be a cupboard in this house.' 'Alack, my pretty one,' said I, 'of
+cupboards we already have enow. There is King Charles's cupboard in
+which we hid his Majesty after Worcester fight, and the green and blue
+closet, as well as many others. Sure, you prattle of that of which you
+do not know.' She shook her fair, bright head, and answered, 'Nay,
+madam, there is no strangers' cupboard for forlorn wayfarers, and there
+must be one, full of food, and wine, and physic, and sweet,
+health-restoring cordials. And the birdies must have a breakfast daily.
+Dorothy, the cookmaid, must boil bread in skimmed milk, and throw it on
+the lawn; then Master Robin and Master Thrush and Mistress Jenny Wren
+will all feast together. I once saw the little princes, in King Edward's
+time, feed the birdies thus; and so did Willie Shakespeare, in Stratford
+town.' Alas, I thought, alas, all is _now too_ plain. This child must
+have been akin to some great scholar, who taught her his own lore, and
+too much learning hath assuredly made her mad; but I will humour her,
+and then will try to bring her poor wits home. Thus reasoning, I placed
+her by my side, and cast my arms around her, and then I whispered, 'Tell
+me of thyself.' 'That will I,' she replied. 'I am Peace, and I come both
+in storms and after them. I came to Joan the Maid, on her stone scaffold
+in the Market Place of Rouen. I came to Rachel Russel when she sustained
+her husband's courage. I came to Mere Toinette, the brown-faced peasant
+woman, when she denied herself for her children. I came to Gaffer and
+Grannie Cressidge as they smiled at each other when eating the apples
+and bread. And I came to a man named Bunyan in his prison, and lo! he
+wrote of _me_. Now I have come to you.' 'Yea, to stay with me,' I said,
+but she answered not, she only kissed my hand, and on the morrow, when
+the wintry sunlight shone on all things within the manor house, it did
+_not_ shine upon her golden head! Her little bed was empty, so was her
+little chair; but the place she had filled in my heart was _still_
+filled, and so I think it will be for ever! Some there are who call her
+a Good Fay or Fairy, and some there are who call her by another and
+sweeter name, but I think of her always as Little Peace, the hope giver,
+who came to teach me when my eyes were dim with grief. For no one can
+tell in what form a blessing will cross his threshold and dwell beside
+him as his helper, friend, and guest."
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF WASSILI AND DARIA.
+
+_A RUSSIAN STORY._
+
+BY ROBERT GUILLEMARD.
+
+
+Whilst staying in Siberia, on one occasion, when returning from an
+evening walk in the woods I was surprised at seeing a young Russian girl
+crying beside a clump of trees; she seemed pretty, and I approached; she
+saw me not, but continued to give vent to her tears.
+
+I stopped to examine her appearance; her black hair, arranged in the
+fashion of the country, flowed from under the diadem usually worn by the
+Siberian girls, and formed a striking contrast, by its jet black colour,
+with the fairness of her skin. Whilst I was looking at her, she turned
+her head, and, perceiving me, rose in great haste, wiped off her tears,
+and said to me:
+
+"Pardon me, father--but I am very unfortunate."
+
+"I wish," said I, "that it were in my power to give you any
+consolation."
+
+"I expect no consolation," she replied; "it is out of your power to give
+me any."
+
+"But why are you crying?"
+
+She was silent, and her sobs alone intimated that she was deeply
+afflicted.
+
+"Can you have committed any fault," said I, "that has roused your
+father's anger against you?"
+
+"He is angry with me, it is true; but is it my fault if I cannot love
+his Aphanassi?"
+
+The subject now began to be interesting; for as Chateaubriand says,
+there were love and tears at the bottom of this story. I felt peculiarly
+interested in the narrative.
+
+I asked the young Siberian girl who this Aphanassi was whom she could
+not love. She became more composed, and with enchanting grace, and
+almost French volubility, she informed me that the summer before a
+Baskir family had travelled further to the north than these tribes are
+accustomed to do, and had brought their flocks into the neighbourhood of
+the zavode of Tchornaia; they came from time to time to the village to
+buy things, and to sell the gowns called _doubas_, which their wives dye
+of a yellow colour with the bark of the birch tree. Now her father, the
+respectable Michael, was a shopkeeper, and constant communications began
+to be established between the Baskir and the Russian family. This
+connection became more close, when it was discovered that both families
+were of that sect which pretends to have preserved its religion free
+from all pollution or mixture, and gives its members the name of
+_Stareobratzi_. The head of the Baskir family, Aphanassi, soon fell in
+love with young Daria, and asked her in marriage from her father; but
+though wealthy, Aphanassi had a rough and repulsive look, and Daria
+could not bear him; she had, therefore, given him an absolute refusal.
+Her father doated on her, and had not pressed the matter farther, though
+he was desirous of forming an alliance so advantageous to his trade; and
+the Baskir had returned to his own country in the month of August to
+gather the crops of hemp and rye. But winter passed away, and the heats
+of June had scarcely been felt before Aphanassi had again appeared, with
+an immense quantity of bales of rich _doubas_, Chinese belts, and
+kaftans, and a herd of more than five hundred horses; he came, in fact,
+surrounded with all his splendour, and renewed again his offers and his
+entreaties. Old Michael was nearly gained by his offers, and Daria was
+in despair, for she was about to be sacrificed to gain, and she detested
+Aphanassi more than she had done the year before.
+
+I listened to her with strong emotion, pitied her sorrows, which had so
+easily procured me her confidence, and when she left me, she was less
+afflicted than before.
+
+The next day I returned to the spot where I had seen her, and found her
+again; she received me with a smile. Aphanassi had not come that
+morning, and Daria, probably thinking that I would come back to the
+spot, had come to ask me what she ought to reply to him, as well as to
+her father. I gave her my advice with a strong feeling of interest, and
+convinced that pity would henceforward open to me the road to her heart,
+I tried to become acquainted with her family. The same evening I bought
+some things from old Michael, and flattering him on his judgment and
+experience, endeavoured to lay the foundation of intimacy.
+
+During several days I went regularly to the same spot, and almost always
+found Daria, as if we had appointed a meeting. Her melancholy increased;
+every time she saw me she asked for further advice, and although she
+showed me nothing but confidence, yet the habit of seeing her, of
+deploring her situation, of having near me a young and beautiful woman,
+after hearing for many, many months no other voices than the rough ones
+of officers, soldiers, and smiths--all these circumstances affected my
+heart with unusual emotion.
+
+The sight of Daria reminded me of the circumstances of my first love;
+and these recollections, in their turn, embellished Daria with all their
+charms.
+
+One day she said to me:
+
+"You have seen Aphanassi this morning at my father's; don't you think he
+is very rough, and has an ugly, ill-natured countenance?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+"Well, I will show you whom I prefer to him." She smiled in saying this,
+and I was powerfully affected, as if she had been about to say, "You are
+the man!" She then threw back the gauze veil that flowed from her
+head-dress, and instantly, at a certain signal, a young man sprung from
+behind the trees and cried out to me:
+
+"Thank you, Frenchman, for your good advice! I am Wassili, the friend of
+Daria!"
+
+This sight perfectly confounded me. So close to love, and to be nothing
+but a confidant after all! I blushed for shame, but Daria soon
+dispelled this impulse of ill-humour. She said to me:
+
+"Wassili, whom I have never mentioned to you, is my friend; I was
+desirous of making you acquainted with him. But he was jealous because
+you gave me consolation and I wished him to remain concealed from you,
+that he might be convinced by your language of the worthiness of your
+sentiments. Wassili will love you as I do; stranger, still give us your
+advice!"
+
+The words of Daria calmed my trouble; and I felt happy that, at a
+thousand leagues from my native land, in the bosom of an enemy's
+country, I was bound by no tie to a foreign soil, but could still afford
+consolation to two beings in misfortune.
+
+Wassili was handsome and amiable; he was also wealthy; but Aphanassi was
+much more so, and old Michael, though formerly flattered with the
+attentions of Wassili to his daughter, now rejected them with disdain.
+We agreed upon a plan of attack against the Baskir. I talked to Michael
+several times on the subject, and tried to arrange their differences;
+but it was of no avail.
+
+Meanwhile took place the feast of St. John, the patron saint of
+Tchornaia, which assembled all the inhabitants of the neighbouring
+villages.
+
+Early in the morning of the holiday, the whole of the inhabitants,
+dressed in their finest clothes, get into a number of little narrow
+boats, made of a single tree, like the canoes of the South Sea savages.
+A man is placed in the middle with one oar in his hands, and strikes the
+water first on one side and then on the other, and makes the boat move
+forward with great velocity. These frail skiffs are all in a line, race
+against each other, and perform a variety of evolutions on the lake. The
+women are placed at the bow and stern, and sing national songs, while
+the men are engaged in a variety of exercises and amusements on the
+shore. A large barge, carrying the heads of the village and the most
+distinguished inhabitants, contains a band of music, whose harmony
+contrasts with the songs that are heard from the other boats.
+
+Beautiful weather usually prevails at this season, and the day closes
+with dances and suppers in the open air; and the lake of Tchornaia,
+naturally of a solitary aspect, becomes all at once full of life and
+animation, and presents an enchanting prospect.
+
+Wassili had got several boats ready, which were filled with musicians,
+who attracted general attention, and were soon followed by almost all
+the skiffs in the same way as the gondolas in the Venetian lagoons
+follow the musical amateurs who sing during the night. Wassili knew that
+Michael would be flattered to hear an account of the success he had
+obtained: but Aphanassi had also come to the festival. As soon as he
+learned that the musicians of Wassili were followed by the crowd, and
+that his rival's name was in every one's mouth, he collected twenty of
+his finest horses, covered them with rich stuffs, and, as soon as the
+sports on the lake were over, began, by the sound of Tartar music, a
+series of races on the shore, which was a novel sight in the summer
+season, and was generally admired. His triumph was complete, and at
+Tchornaia nothing was talked of for several days but the races on the
+shore of the lake, and the Baskir's influence with Michael increased
+considerably.
+
+The grief of Daria made her father suspect that she met Wassili out of
+the house, and he confined her at home. I saw none but the young man,
+whose communications were far from being so pleasing to me as those of
+Daria. Towards the end of July he informed me that Aphanassi had made
+another attempt to get her from her father; but that the old man was so
+overcome with her despair that he had only agreed that the marriage
+should take place the ensuing summer, delaying the matter under the
+pretext of getting her portion ready, but, in truth, to give her time to
+make up her mind to follow the Baskir.
+
+About this period Wassili was sent by M. Demidoff's agent, at the head
+of a body of workmen, to the centre of the Ural Mountains to cut down
+trees and burn them into charcoal. He was not to return till the middle
+of September. During his absence I saw Daria almost daily; she had lost
+the brilliancy of her look, but it seemed to me that her beauty was
+increased, her countenance had assumed such an expression of melancholy.
+I had gradually obtained the goodwill of Michael, and dispelled, as far
+as lay in my power, the sorrows of his daughter. I was a foreigner, a
+prisoner, little to be feared, and pretty well off in regard to money,
+so that Michael felt no alarm at seeing me, and neglected no opportunity
+of showing me his goodwill.
+
+I received a strong proof of this about the middle of August. He brought
+me to a family festival that takes place at the gathering of the
+cabbage, and to which women only are usually admitted; it is, in fact,
+their vintage season.
+
+On the day that a family is to gather in their cabbage, which they salt
+and lay up for the winter season, the women invite their female friends
+and neighbours to come and assist them. On the evening before, they cut
+the cabbages from the stem, and pull off the outside leaves and earth
+that may be adhering to them. On the grand day, at the house where the
+cabbages are collected, the women assemble, dressed in their most
+brilliant manner, and armed with a sort of cleaver, with a handle in the
+centre, more or less ornamented, according to the person's rank. They
+place themselves round a kind of trough containing the cabbages. The old
+women give the signal for action; two of the youngest girls take their
+places in the middle of the room, and begin to dance a kind of
+allemande, while the rest of the women sing national songs, and keep
+time in driving their knives into the trough. When the girls are tired
+with dancing, two more take their place, always eager to surpass the
+former by the grace with which they make their movements. The songs
+continue without intermission, and the cabbages are thus cut up in the
+midst of a ball, which lasts from morning till night. Meanwhile, the
+married women carry on the work, salt the cabbages, and carefully pack
+them in barrels. In the evening the whole party sit down to supper,
+after which only the men are admitted, but even then they remain apart
+from the women. Glasses of wine and punch go round, dancing begins in a
+more general manner, and they withdraw at a late hour, to begin the same
+amusement at another neighbour's till all the harvest is finished.
+
+Amidst all these young girls Daria always seemed to me the most amiable!
+she danced when called upon by her mother; her motions expressed
+satisfaction, and her eyes, scarcely refraining from tears, turned
+towards the stranger, who alone knew her real situation, though amidst
+so many indifferent people who called themselves her friends.
+
+Towards the end of September, Wassili returned from the woods. Daria had
+a prospect of several months before her before the return of Aphanassi,
+if ever he should return at all; and she gave herself up to her love
+with pleasing improvidence.
+
+At this period there came to Tchornaia two Russian officers, with
+several sergeants, who were much more like Cossacks than regular
+soldiers. Their appearance was the signal of universal mourning--they
+came to recruit. They proclaimed, in the Emperor's name, that on a
+certain day all the men in the district, whatever their age might be,
+were to assemble in the public square, there to be inspected.
+
+At the appointed day every one was on the spot; but it was easy to see
+by their looks that it was with the utmost repugnance that they had
+obeyed. All the women were placed on the other side, and anxiously
+waited for the result of the inspection, and some of them were crying
+bitterly. I was present at this scene. The officers placed the men in
+two rows, and passed along the ranks very slowly. Now and then they
+touched a man, and he was immediately taken to a little group that was
+formed in the centre of the square. When they had run over the two rows,
+they again inspected the men that had been set apart, made them walk and
+strip, _verified_ them, in a word, such as our recruiting _councils_ did
+in our departments for many years. When a man was examined he was
+allowed to go, when the crowd raised a shout of joy; or he was
+immediately put in irons, in presence of his family, who raised cries of
+despair--this man was fit for service.
+
+These unfortunate beings, thus chained up, were kept out of view till
+the very moment of their departure. No claims were valid against the
+recruiting officer; age, marriage, the duties required to be paid to an
+infirm parent, were all of no avail; sometimes, indeed, it happened, and
+that but rarely, that a secret arrangement with the officer, for a sum
+of money, saved a young man, a husband, or a father from his caprice,
+for he was bound by no rule; it often happened, also, that he marked out
+for the army a young man whose wife or mistress was coveted by the
+neighbouring lord, or whom injustice had irritated and rendered
+suspected.
+
+To finish this description, which has made me leave my friends out of
+view, at a very melancholy period, I shall add a few more particulars.
+
+Wassili, as I said before, was at the review; the recruiting officer
+thought he would make a handsome dragoon, or a soldier of the guard,
+and, having looked at him from top to toe, he declared him fit for the
+army.
+
+Whilst his family were deploring his fate, and preparing to make every
+sacrifice to obtain his discharge, some one cried out that the officer
+would allow him to get off because he was wealthy, but that the poor
+must march.
+
+The Russian heard this, and perhaps on the point of making a bargain,
+felt irritated, and would listen to no sort of arrangement, as a
+scoundrel always does when you have been on the point of buying. Wassili
+was put in irons, and destined to unlimited service--that is, to an
+eternal exile, for the Russian soldier is never allowed to return to his
+home.[1] Daria nearly fell a victim to her grief, and only recovered
+some portion of vigour when the recruits were to set out.
+
+[Footnote 1: He is enrolled for twenty years--that is, for a
+whole life.]
+
+On that day the recruiting party gorge them with meat and brandy till
+they are nearly dead drunk. They are then thrown into the sledges and
+carried off, still loaded with irons. A most heart-rending scene now
+takes place; every family follows them with their cries, and chants the
+prayers for the dead and the dying, while the unfortunate conscripts
+themselves, besotted with liquor, remain stupid and indifferent, burst
+into roars of laughter, or answer their friends with oaths and
+imprecations.
+
+Notwithstanding the force that had been shown to him, Wassili had drunk
+nothing, and preserved his judgment unclouded; he stretched out his arms
+towards Daria, towards his friends, and towards me, and bade us adieu
+with many tears. Amidst the mournful sounds that struck upon her ears,
+the young girl followed him rapidly, and had time to throw herself into
+his arms before the sledge set out; but the moment he was beyond her
+reach, she fell backward with violence on the ice. No one paid the least
+attention to her; they all rushed forward and followed the sledges of
+the recruiting party, which soon galloped out of sight. I lifted Daria
+up; I did not attempt to restrain her grief, but took her back to her
+father's, where she was paid every attention her situation required. In
+about a month's time she was able to resume her usual occupations, but
+she recovered only a portion of her former self.
+
+Winter again set in. I often saw Daria, either at her father's house, or
+when she walked out on purpose to meet me, which her father allowed, in
+the hope of dissipating her sorrows. How the poor girl was altered since
+the departure of Wassili! How many sad things the young Siberian told me
+when our sledges glided together along the surface of the lake! What
+melancholy there was in her language, and superstition in her belief!
+
+I attempted to dissipate her sombre thoughts; but I soon perceived that
+everything brought them back to her mind, and that the sight of this
+savage nature, whose solitude affected my own thoughts with sorrow,
+contributed to increase her melancholy. Within her own dwelling she was
+less agitated, but more depressed; her fever was then languid, and her
+beautiful face despoiled of that expression, full of agreeable
+recollections, that animated her in our private conversation. These
+walks could only make her worse, and I endeavoured to avoid them. She
+understood my meaning. "Go," said she, "kind Frenchman, you are taking
+fruitless care; Wassili has taken my life away with him; it cannot
+return any more than he can."
+
+I still continued to see her frequently. Old Michael was unhappy because
+she wept on hearing even the name of Aphanassi; he foresaw that it would
+be out of his power to have this wealthy man for his son-in-law, for his
+promises had gained his heart long ago. However this may be, he made his
+preparations in secret, bought fine silks, and ordered a magnificent
+diadem to be made for his daughter. She guessed his object, and once
+said to me, "My father is preparing a handsome ornament for me; it is
+intended for the last time I shall be at church; let him make haste, for
+Daria won't keep him waiting."
+
+About the middle of June Aphanassi returned, more in love and more eager
+than ever, and, as soon as he appeared, the daughter of Michael was
+attacked by a burning fever that never left her. In a few days she was
+at the gates of death. All the care bestowed upon her was of no avail,
+and she died pronouncing the name of Wassili.
+
+Full of profound grief, I followed her body to the church of the
+Stareobratzi, at Nishnei-Taguil. It had been dressed in her finest
+clothing, and she was placed in the coffin with her face uncovered. The
+relations, friends, and members of the same church were present. The men
+were ranged on one side, and the women on the other. After a funeral
+hymn, in the language of the country, the priest, who was bare-headed,
+pronounced the eulogium of the defunct. His grey hair, long beard,
+Asiatic gown, and loud sobs, gave his discourse a peculiar solemnity.
+When it was finished, every one came forward silently to bid farewell to
+Daria, and kiss her hand. I went like the rest; like them I went alone
+towards the coffin, took hold of the hand I had so often pressed, and
+gave it the last farewell kiss.
+
+
+
+
+PLUCK, PERIL & ADVENTURE.
+
+
+
+
+MARJORIE MAY: A WILFUL YOUNG WOMAN.
+
+BY EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN.
+
+
+"How perfectly delightful! Just fancy riding along those lovely sands,
+and seeing real live Bedouins on their horses or camels! I declare I see
+camels padding along now! I wish it wouldn't get dark so fast. But the
+city will look lovely when the moon is up."
+
+"Is it quite safe?" asked a lady passenger, eager for the proposed
+excursion, but a little timid in such strange surroundings. For Mogador
+seemed like the ends of the earth to her. She had never been for a sea
+voyage before.
+
+"Oh, yes; safe enough, or Captain Taylor would never have arranged it.
+Of course, it might not be safe to go quite alone; but a party
+together--why, it's as safe as Regent Street."
+
+"What is this excursion they are all talking about?" asked Marjorie May,
+who had been standing apart in the bow of the boat, trying to dash in
+the effect of the sunset lights upon the solemn, lonely African
+mountains, with the white city sleeping on the edge of the sea,
+surrounded by its stretch of desert. It was too dark for further
+sketching, and the first bell had sounded for dinner. She joined the
+group of passengers, eagerly discussing the proposed jaunt for the
+morrow. Several voices answered her.
+
+"Oh, the captain is going to arrange a sort of picnic for us to-morrow.
+We have all day in harbour, you know, and part of the next. So to-morrow
+we are to go ashore and take donkeys, and ride out along the shore there
+for several miles, to some queer place or other, where they will arrange
+lunch for us; and we can wander about and see the place, and get back on
+board in time for dinner; and next day we can see the town. That only
+takes an hour or so. We leave after lunch, but it will give plenty of
+time."
+
+"I think the town sounds more interesting than the donkey-rides," said
+Marjorie. "I had not time to sketch in Tangiers, except just a few
+figures dashed off anyhow. I must make some studies of the Arabs and
+Nubians and Bedouins here. I shan't get another chance. This is the last
+African port we stop at."
+
+"Oh, I daresay you'll have plenty of time for sketching," answered her
+cabin companion to whom she had spoken; "but I wouldn't miss the ride if
+I were you. It'll be quite a unique experience."
+
+The dinner-bell rang, and the company on board the _Oratava_ took their
+seats in the pleasant upper deck saloon, where there was fresh air to be
+had, and glimpses through the windows of the darkening sky, the rising
+moon and brightening stars.
+
+Marjorie's next-door neighbours were, on one side, the lady whose cabin
+she shared, on the other a Mr. Stuart, with whom she waged a frequent
+warfare. He was an experienced traveller, whilst she was quite
+inexperienced; and sometimes he had spoken to her with an air of
+authority which she resented, had nipped in the bud some pet project of
+hers, or had overthrown some cherished theory by the weight of his
+knowledge of stern facts.
+
+But he had been to Mogador before, and Marjorie condescended to-night to
+be gracious and ask questions. She was keenly interested in what she
+heard. There was a Jewish quarter in the city as well as the Arab one.
+There was a curious market. The whole town was very curious, being all
+built in arcades and squares. It was not the least like Tangiers, he
+told her, which was the only African town Marjorie had yet visited. This
+cruise of the _Oratava_ had been a little unfortunate. The surf had been
+so heavy along the coast, that the passengers had not been able to land
+at any port of call since leaving Tangiers. They had had perforce to
+remain upon the vessel whilst cargo was being taken on and shipped off.
+But the sea had now calmed down. The restless Atlantic was quieting
+itself. The vessel at anchor in the little harbour scarcely moved. The
+conditions were all favourable for good weather, and the passengers were
+confident of their pleasure trip on the morrow.
+
+As Marjorie heard Mr. Stuart's description of the old town--one of the
+most ancient in Africa--she was more and more resolved not to waste
+precious moments in a stupid donkey-ride across the desert. Of course it
+would be interesting in its way; but she had had excellent views of the
+desert at several ports, whereas the interior of the old city was a
+thing altogether new.
+
+"I suppose it's quite a safe place?" she asked carelessly; and Mr.
+Stuart answered at once:
+
+"Oh, yes, perfectly safe. There are several English families living in
+it. I lived there a year once. Of course, a stranger lady would not walk
+about there alone; she might get lost in the perplexing arcades, and
+Arab towns are never too sweet or too suitable for a lady to go about in
+by herself. But I shall go and look up my friends there. It's safe
+enough in that sense."
+
+Marjorie's eyes began to sparkle under their long lashes. A plan was
+fermenting in her brain.
+
+"I think I shall spend my day there sketching," she said.
+
+"All right; only you mustn't be alone," answered Mr. Stuart in his
+rather imperious way. "You'd better take Colquhoun and his sister along
+with you. They're artists, and he knows something of the language and
+the ways of the Arabs."
+
+A mutinous look came over Marjorie's face. She was not going to join
+company with Mr. and Miss Colquhoun any more. She had struck up a rather
+impulsive friendship with them at the outset of the voyage, but now she
+could not bear them. It was not an exceptional experience with her. She
+was eager to be friends with all the world; but again and again she
+discovered that too promiscuous friendship was not always wise. It had
+been so in this case, and Mr. Colquhoun had gone too far in some of his
+expressions of admiration. Marjorie had discovered that his views were
+much too lax to please her. She had resolved to have very little more to
+do with them for the future. To ask to join them on the morrow, even if
+they were going sketching, was a thing she could not and would not
+condescend to.
+
+No, her mind was quickly made up. It was all nonsense about its not
+being safe. Why, there were English families and agents living in the
+place, and she would never be silly and lose herself or her head. She
+would land with the rest. There were about five-and-twenty passengers,
+and all of them would go ashore, and most would probably go for the
+donkey-ride into the desert. But she would quietly slip away, and nobody
+would be anxious. Some would think she had gone with the Colquhouns, who
+always sketched, or perhaps with Mr. Stuart, who had taken care of her
+in Tangiers. She was an independent member of society--nobody's especial
+charge. In the crowded streets of an Arab town nothing would be easier
+than to slip away from the party soon after landing; and then she would
+have a glorious day of liberty, wandering about, and making her own
+studies and sketches, and joining the rest at the appointed time, when
+they would be going back to the ship.
+
+So Marjorie put her paints and sketching pad up, provided herself with
+everything needful, and slept happily in her narrow berth, eagerly
+waiting for the morrow, when so many new wonders would be revealed.
+
+The morning dawned clear and fair, and Marjorie was early on deck,
+watching with delight the beautiful effects of light as the sun rose
+over the solemn mountains and lighted up the wide, lonely desert wastes.
+She could see the caravans of camels coming citywards, could watch the
+sunbeams falling upon the white walls, domes, and flat roofs of the
+ancient town. She watched the cargo boats coming out with their loads,
+and the familiar rattle of the steam crane and the shouts of the men
+were in her ears. The deck was alive with curious forms of Arabs come to
+display their wares. A turbaned man in one of the boats below was
+eagerly offering a splendid-looking, sable-black Nubian for sale, and
+Mr. Colquhoun was amusing himself by chaffering as though he meant to
+buy, which he could have done for the sum of eight pounds; for there is
+a slave market yet in Mogador, where men and women are driven in like
+cattle to be bought and sold.
+
+A duck had escaped from the steward's stores and was triumphantly
+disporting himself in the green water. The steward had offered a reward
+of half a dozen empty soda-water bottles to the person who would
+recapture the bird, and two boats were in hot pursuit, whilst little
+brown Arab boys kept diving in to try to swim down the agile duck, who,
+however, succeeded in dodging them all with a neatness and sense of
+humour that evoked much applause from the on-lookers. Marjorie heard
+afterwards that it took three hours to effect the capture, and that at
+least a dozen men or boys had taken part in it, but the reward offered
+had amply contented them for their time and trouble.
+
+Breakfast was quickly despatched that morning. Marjorie was almost too
+excited to eat. She was full of delightful anticipations of a romantic,
+independent day. Mr. Stuart's voice interrupted the pleasant current of
+her thoughts.
+
+"Would you like to come with me, Miss May? My friends would be very
+pleased, I am sure. We could show you the town, and you would be sure of
+a good lunch." He added the last words a little mischievously, because
+Marjorie was often annoyed at the persistent way in which people made
+everything subservient to meals. A bit of bread and a few dates or an
+orange seemed to her quite sufficient sustenance between a ship's
+breakfast and dinner.
+
+But such a commonplace way of spending a day was not in the least in
+accord with Marjorie's views. She thought she knew exactly what it would
+be like to go with Mr. Stuart--a hurried walk through the town, an
+introduction to a family of strangers, who would wish her anywhere else,
+the obligation to sit still in a drawing-room or on a verandah whilst
+Mr. Stuart told all the news from England, and then the inevitable
+lunch, with only time for a perfunctory examination of the city. She
+would not have minded seeing one of the houses where the English
+families lived, but she could not sacrifice her day just for that.
+
+"Oh, thank you, but I have made my plans," she answered quickly; "I must
+do some sketching. I've not done half as much as I intended when I
+started. I am a professional woman, you know, Mr. Stuart; I can't amuse
+myself all day like you."
+
+This was Marjorie's little bit of revenge for some of Mr. Stuart's
+remarks to her at different times, when she had chosen to think that he
+was making game of her professional work.
+
+Marjorie was not exactly dependent upon her pencil and brush. She had a
+small income of her own; but she would not have been able to live as she
+did, or to enjoy the occasional jaunts abroad in which her soul
+delighted, had it not been that she had won for herself a place as
+illustrator upon one or two magazines. This trip was taken partly with a
+view to getting new subjects for the illustration of a story, a good
+deal of which was laid abroad and in the East. An Eastern tour was
+beyond Marjorie's reach; but she had heard of these itinerary trips by
+which for the modest sum of twenty guineas, she could travel as a
+first-class passenger and see Gibraltar, Tangiers, several African
+ports, including Mogador, the Canary Islands, and Madeira, and be back
+again in London within the month. She was a good sailor, and even the
+Bay had no terrors for her; so she had enjoyed herself to the full the
+whole time. But she had not done as much work upon Arab subjects as she
+had hoped, and she was resolved not to let this day be wasted.
+
+Mr. Stuart would have offered advice; but Marjorie was in one of her
+contrary moods, and was afraid of his ending by joining her, and
+sacrificing his own day for her sake. She had a vaguely uneasy feeling
+that what she intended to do would not be thought quite "proper," and
+that Mr. Stuart would disapprove rather vehemently. She was quite
+resolved not to allow Mr. Stuart's prejudices to influence her. What was
+he to her that she should care for his approval or good opinion? After
+the conclusion of the voyage she would never see him again. She never
+wanted to, she said sometimes to herself, rather angrily; he was an
+interfering kind of autocratic man, for whom she felt a considerable
+dislike--and yet, somehow, Marjorie was occasionally conscious that she
+thought more about Mr. Stuart than about all the rest of the passengers
+put together.
+
+It was very interesting getting off in the boats, and being rowed to the
+city by the shouting, gesticulating Arabs. Marjorie liked the masterful
+way of the captain and ship's officers with these dusky denizens of the
+desert. They seemed to be so completely the lords of creation, yet were
+immensely popular with the swarms of natives, who hung about the ship
+the whole time she was in harbour. The quay was alive with picturesque
+figures as they approached; but they did not land there. They passed
+under an archway into a smaller basin, and were rowed across this to
+another landing-place, where the same swarms of curious spectators
+awaited them.
+
+Marjorie's fingers were itching after brush and pencil. Everything about
+her seemed a living picture, but for the moment she was forced to remain
+with her fellow-passengers; and Mr. Stuart walked beside her, vainly
+offering to carry her impedimenta.
+
+"No, thank you," answered Marjorie briskly; "I like to have my own
+things myself. I am not used to being waited on. Besides, you are going
+to your friends. Oh, what a curious place! what big squares! And it's so
+beautifully clean too! Call Arab towns dirty? Why, there's no dirt
+anywhere; and oh, look at those people over yonder! What are they
+doing?"
+
+"Washing their clothes by treading on them. They always chant that sort
+of sing-song whilst they are trampling them in the water. That is the
+custom-house yonder, where they are taking the cargo we have just sent
+off. Now we must go through the gate, and so into the town; but you will
+find it all like this--one square or arcade leading into another by
+gateways at the end. That's the distinguishing feature of Mogador, and
+you will find some of them pretty dirty, though it's more dust than mud
+this time of year."
+
+Marjorie was enchanted by everything she saw. She only wished Mr. Stuart
+would take himself off, for she saw no chance of slipping away
+unobserved if he were at her side. Luckily for her, a young man came
+hurriedly to meet them from somewhere in the opposite direction, and,
+greeting Mr. Stuart with great effusion, carried him off forthwith,
+whilst Marjorie hurried along after the rest of the party.
+
+But they had no intention of exploring the wonderful old town that day.
+They turned into a little side street, where there was nothing
+particular to see, but where, outside the agent's office, a number of
+donkeys were waiting. Marjorie caught hold of Miss Craven, her cabin
+companion, and said hastily:
+
+"I'm not going this ride; I don't care for being jolted on a donkey,
+with only a pack of straw for a saddle and a rope for a bridle. I must
+get some sketches done. The Colquhouns are going to sketch. I can find
+them if I want. Don't let anybody bother about me. I'll join you in time
+to go back to the boat at five."
+
+"Well, take care of yourself," said Miss Craven, "and don't wander about
+alone, for it's a most heathenish-looking place. But you will be all
+right with the Colquhouns."
+
+"Oh, yes," answered Marjorie, turning away with a burning face. She
+felt rather guilty, as though she had gone near to speaking an untruth,
+although no actual falsehood had passed her lips. Nobody heeded her as
+she slipped through the crowd of donkey boys and onlookers. Some offered
+her their beasts, but she smiled and shook her head, and hurried back to
+the main route through the larger arcades. Once there, she went
+leisurely, eagerly looking into shop doors, watching the brass-beating,
+the hand-loom weaving, and dashing off little pencil sketches of the
+children squatting at their tasks, or walking to or fro as they
+performed some winding operations for an older person seated upon the
+floor.
+
+Nobody molested her in any way or seemed to notice her much. Sometimes a
+shopkeeper would offer her his wares in dumb show; but Marjorie had very
+little money with her, and, knowing nothing of the value of these
+things, was not to be tempted.
+
+The sun poured down hot and strong, but there was shade to be had in
+these arcaded streets; and though some of them were anything but clean
+or sweet, Marjorie forgave everything for the sake of the beauty and
+picturesqueness of the scene. She wandered here, there, and all over;
+she found herself in the long, straggling market, and made hasty
+sketches of the men and women chaffering at their stalls; of camels,
+with their strange, sleepy, or vicious faces, padding softly along,
+turning their heads this way and that. She watched the lading of the
+beasts, and heard their curious grunts of anger or remonstrance when the
+load exceeded their approval. Everything was full of attraction for her,
+and she only waited till she had explored the place to set herself down
+and make some coloured sketches.
+
+She soon had a following of small boys and loiterers, all interested in
+the doings of the strange lady with her sketchbook, but Marjorie did not
+mind that. She made some of the children stand to her, and got several
+rather effective groups.
+
+Then she set herself to work in greater earnest. She obtained a seat in
+one or two places, and dashed in rapid coloured studies which she could
+work upon afterwards. Her _forte_ was for bold effects rather than for
+detail, and the strange old city gave her endless subjects. She did not
+heed the flight of time. She passed from spot to spot, with her
+following growing larger and larger, more and more curious: and so
+engrossed was she in her task, that the lengthening of the shadows and
+the dipping of the sun behind the walls did not attract her attention.
+It was only when she suddenly found herself enveloped in the
+quick-coming, semi-tropical shades of darkness that she realised the
+necessity to beat a retreat.
+
+She rose quickly and put up her things. There was a ring many deep about
+her of curious natives, Arabs, Moors, Jews, Turks--she knew not how many
+nationalities were gathered together in that circle. In the broad light
+of day she had felt no qualm of uneasiness at the strange dusky faces.
+Nobody had molested her, and Marjorie, partly through temperament,
+partly through ignorance, had been perfectly fearless in this strange
+old city. But with the dimness of evening gathering, she began to wish
+herself safe on board the _Oratava_ again; and though she retained her
+air of serene composure, she felt a little inward tremor as she moved
+away.
+
+The crowd did not attempt to hold her back, but walked with her in a
+sort of compact bodyguard; and amongst themselves there was a great deal
+of talking and gesticulating, which sounded very heathenish and a little
+threatening to Marjorie.
+
+She had realised before that Mogador was a larger place than she had
+thought, and now she began to discover that she had no notion of the
+right way to the quay. The arcades hemmed her in. She could see nothing
+but walls about her and the ever-increasing crowd dogging her steps. Her
+heart was beating thick and fast. She was tired and faint from want of
+food, and this sudden and unfamiliar sense of fear robbed her of her
+customary self-command and courage. She felt more like bursting into
+tears than she ever remembered to have done before.
+
+It was no good going on like this, wandering helplessly about in the
+darkening town; she must do something and that quickly. Surely some of
+these people knew a few words of English.
+
+She stopped and faced them, and asked if nobody could take her to the
+ship. Instantly they crowded round her, pointing and gesticulating; but
+whether they understood, and what they meant, Marjorie could not
+imagine. She remembered the name of the ship's agents, and spoke that
+aloud several times, and there were more cries and more crowding and
+gesticulation. Each man seemed struggling to get possession of her, and
+Marjorie grew so frightened at the strange sounds, and the fierce
+faces--as they seemed to her--and the gathering darkness, that she
+completely lost her head. She looked wildly round her, gave a little
+shrill cry of terror, and seeing the ring thinner in one place than
+another, she made a dart through it, and began to run as if for her very
+life. It was the maddest thing to do. Hitherto there had been no real
+danger. Nobody had any thought of molesting the English lady, though her
+behaviour had excited much curiosity. Anybody would have taken her down
+to the quay, as they all knew where she came from. But this head-long
+flight first startled them, and then roused that latent demon of
+savagery which lies dormant in every son of the desert. Instantly, with
+yells which sounded terrific in Marjorie's ears, they gave chase. Fear
+lent her wings, but she heard the pursuit coming nearer and nearer. She
+knew not where she was flying, whether towards safety or into the heart
+of danger. Her breath came in sobbing gasps, her feet slipped and seemed
+as though they would carry her no farther. The cries behind and on all
+sides grew louder and fiercer. She was making blindly for the entrance
+to the arcade. Each moment she expected to feel a hand grasping her from
+the rear. There was no getting away from her pursuers in these terrible
+arcades. Oh, why had she ever trusted herself alone in this awful old
+city!
+
+She darted through the archway, and then, uttering a faint cry, gave
+herself up for lost, for she felt herself grasped tightly in a pair of
+powerful arms, and all the terrible stories she had heard from
+fellow-passengers about Europeans taken captive in Morocco, and put up
+for ransom recurred to her excited fancy. She had nobody to ransom her.
+She would be left to languish and die in some awful Moorish prison.
+Perhaps nobody would ever know of her fate. That was what came of always
+doing as one chose, and making one's friends believe a falsehood.
+
+Like a lightning flash all this passed through Marjorie's mind. The next
+instant she felt herself thrust against the wall. Some tall, dark figure
+was standing in front of her, and a masterful English voice speaking
+fluent Arabic was haranguing her pursuers in stern and menacing accents.
+
+A sob of wonder and relief escaped Marjorie's white lips. She had not
+fallen into the hands of the Moors. Mr. Stuart had caught her, was
+protecting her, and when the mists cleared away from her eyes she saw
+that the crowd was quickly melting away, and she knew that she was safe.
+
+"Take my arm, Miss May," said Mr. Stuart; "they have sent back a boat
+for you from the ship. Captain Taylor is making inquiries for you too.
+Had you not been warned that a lady was not safe alone in Mogador--at
+least, not after nightfall?"
+
+Marjorie hung her head; tears were dropping silently. She felt more
+humiliated than she had ever done in her life before. Suppose Mr. Stuart
+had not come? It was a thought she could not bear to pursue.
+
+They reached the boat. The captain listened to the story, and he spoke
+with some grave severity to Marjorie, as he had a right to do; for he
+had done everything to provide for the safety of his passengers, and it
+was not right to him, or the company, for a wilful girl to run into
+needless peril out of the waywardness of her heart.
+
+Marjorie accepted the reproof with unwonted humility, and Mr. Stuart
+suddenly spoke up for her:
+
+"She will not do it again, captain; I will answer for her."
+
+"All right, Mr. Stuart; I don't want to say any more. All's well that's
+ends well; but----"
+
+He checked further words, but Marjorie's cheeks whitened. She seemed to
+see again those strange, fierce faces, and hear the cries of her
+pursuers. In the gathering darkness Mr. Stuart put out his hand and took
+firm hold of hers. She started for a moment, and then let it lie in his
+clasp. Indeed, she felt her own fingers clinging to that strong hand,
+and a thrill went through her as she felt his clasp tighten upon them.
+
+They reached the side of the vessel; officers and passengers were
+craning over to get news of the missing passenger.
+
+"Here she is, all safe!" cried the captain rather gruffly, and a little
+cry of relief went up, followed by a cheer.
+
+Mr. Stuart leant forward in the darkness and whispered:
+
+"You see what a commotion you have made, Marjorie, I think you will have
+to let me answer for you, and take care of you in the future."
+
+"I think I shall," she answered, with a little tremulous laugh that was
+half a sob, and in the confusion of getting the boat brought up
+alongside Marjorie felt a lover's kiss upon her cheek.
+
+
+
+
+FOURTH COUSINS.
+
+BY GORDON STABLES, M.D., R.N.
+
+
+In the early summer of 1860 I went upon a visit to a distant relative of
+mine, who lived in one of the Shetland Islands. It was early summer with
+myself then: I was a medical student with life all before me--life and
+hope, and joy and sorrow as well. I went north with the intention of
+working hard, and took quite a small library with me; there was nothing
+in the shape of study I did not mean to do, and to drive at: botany, the
+_flora_ of the _Ultima Thule_, its _fauna_ and geology, too, to say
+nothing of chemistry and therapeutics. So much for good intentions,
+but--I may as well confess it as not--I never once opened my huge box of
+books during the five months I lived at R----, and if I studied at all
+it was from the book of Nature, which is open to every one who cares to
+con its pages.
+
+The steamboat landed me at Lerwick, and I completed my journey--with my
+boxes--next day in an open boat.
+
+It was a very cold morning, with a grey, cold, choppy sea on, the spray
+from which dashed over the boat, wetting me thoroughly, and making me
+feel pinched, blear-eyed, and miserable. I even envied the seals I saw
+cosily asleep in dry, sandy caves, at the foot of the black and beetling
+rocks.
+
+How very fantastic those rocks were, but cheerless--so cheerless! Even
+the sea birds that circled around them seemed screaming a dirge. An
+opening in a wall of rock took us at length into a long, winding fiord,
+or arm of the sea, with green bare fields on every side, and wild,
+weird-like sheep that gazed on us for a moment, then bleated and fled.
+Right at the end of this rock stood my friend's house, comfortable and
+solid-looking, but unsheltered by a single tree.
+
+"I sha'n't stay long here," I said to myself, as I landed.
+
+An hour or two afterwards I had changed my mind entirely. I was seated
+in a charmingly and cosily-furnished drawing-room upstairs. The windows
+looked out to and away across the broad Atlantic. How strange it was;
+for the loch that had led me to the front of the house, and the waters
+of which rippled up to the very lawn, was part of the German Ocean, and
+here at the back, and not a stone's throw distant, was the Atlantic! Its
+great, green, dark billows rolled up and broke into foam against the
+black breastwork of cliffs beneath us; the immense depth of its waves
+could be judged of by keeping the eye fixed upon the tall, steeple-like
+rocks which shot up here and there through the water a little way out to
+sea: at one moment these would appear like lofty spires, and next they
+would be almost entirely swallowed up.
+
+Beside the fire, in an easy chair, sat my grey-haired old relation and
+host, and, not far off, his wife. Hospitable, warm-hearted, and genial
+both of them were. If marriages really are made in heaven, I could not
+help thinking theirs must have been, so much did they seem each other's
+counterpart.
+
+Presently Cousin Maggie entered, smiling to me as she did so; her left
+hand lingered fondly for a moment on her father's grey locks, then she
+sat down unbidden to the piano. My own face was partially shaded by the
+window curtain, so that I could study that of my fair cousin as she
+played without appearing rude. Was she beautiful? that was the question
+I asked myself, and was trying hard to answer. Every feature of her face
+was faultless, her mouth and ears were small, she had a wealth of rich,
+deep auburn hair, and eyes that seemed to have borrowed the noonday
+tints of a summer sea, so bright, so blue were they. But was she
+beautiful? I could not answer the question then.
+
+On the strength of my blood relationship, distant though it was, for we
+were really only third or fourth cousins, I was made a member of this
+family from the first, and Maggie treated me as a brother. I was not
+entirely pleased with the latter arrangement, because many days had not
+passed ere I concluded it would be a pleasant pastime for me to make
+love to Cousin Maggie. But weeks went by, and my love-making was still
+postponed; it became a _sine die_ kind of a probability. Maggie was
+constantly with me when out of doors--my companion in all my fishing and
+shooting trips. But she carried not only a rod but even a rifle herself,
+she could give me lessons in casting the fly--and did; she often shot
+dead the seals that I had merely wounded, and her prowess in rowing
+astonished me, and her daring in venturing so far to sea in our broad,
+open boat often made me tremble for our safety.
+
+A frequent visitor for the first two months of my stay at R---- was a
+young and well-to-do farmer and fisher, who came in his boat from a
+neighbouring island, always accompanied by his sister, and they usually
+stayed a day or two. I was not long in perceiving that this Mr.
+Thorforth was very fond of my cousin; the state of her feelings towards
+him it was some time before I could fathom, but the revelation came at
+last, and quite unexpectedly.
+
+There was an old ruin some distance from the house, where, one lovely
+moonlight night, I happened to be seated alone. I was not long alone,
+however; from a window I could see my cousin and Thorforth coming
+towards the place, and, thinking to surprise them, I drew back under the
+shadow of a portion of the wall. But I was not to be an actor in that
+scene, though it was one I shall never forget. I could not see _his_
+face, but hers, on which the moonbeams fell, was pained,
+half-frightened, impatient. He was telling her he loved her and asking
+her to love him in return. She stopped him at last.
+
+What she said need not be told. In a few moments he was gone, and she
+was standing where he left her, following him with pitying eyes as he
+walked hurriedly away.
+
+Next day Magnus Thorforth said goodbye and left: even his sister looked
+sad. She must have known it all. I never saw them again.
+
+One day, about a month after this, Maggie and I were together in a cave
+close by the ocean--a favourite haunt of ours on hot forenoons. Our boat
+was drawn up close by, the day was bright, and the sea calm, its tiny
+wavelets making drowsy, dreamy music on the yellow sands.
+
+She had been reading aloud, and I was gazing at her face.
+
+"I begin to think you are beautiful," I said.
+
+She looked down at me where I lay with those innocent eyes of hers, that
+always looked into mine as frankly as a child's would.
+
+"I'm not sure," I continued, "that I sha'n't commence making love to
+you, and perhaps I might marry you. What would you think of that?"
+
+"Love!" she laughed, as musically as a sea-nymph--"love? Love betwixt a
+cousin and a cousin? Preposterous!"
+
+"I daresay," I said, pretending to pout, "you wouldn't marry me because
+I'm poor."
+
+"Poor!" she repeated, looking very firm and earnest now; "if the man I
+loved were poor, I'd carry a creel for him--I'd gather shells for his
+sake; but I don't love anybody and don't mean to. Come."
+
+So that was the beginning and end of my love-making for Cousin Maggie.
+
+And Maggie had said she never meant to love any one. Well, we never can
+tell what may be in our immediate future.
+
+Hardly had we left the cave that day, and put off from the shore, ere
+cat's-paws began to ruffle the water. They came in from the west, and
+before we had got half-way to the distant headland a steady breeze was
+blowing. We had hoisted our sail, and were running before it with the
+speed of a gull on the wing.
+
+Once round the point, we had a beam wind till we entered the fiord,
+then we had to beat to windward all the way home, by which time it was
+blowing quite a gale.
+
+It went round more to the north about sunset, and then, for the first
+time, we noticed a yacht of small dimensions on the distant horizon. Her
+intention appeared to be that of rounding the island, and probably
+anchoring on the lee side of it. She was in an ugly position, however,
+and we all watched her anxiously till nightfall hid her from our view.
+
+I retired early, but sleep was out of the question, for the wind raged
+and howled around the house like wild wolves. About twelve o'clock the
+sound of a gun fell on my ears. I could not be mistaken, for the window
+rattled in sharp response.
+
+I sprang from my couch and began to dress, and immediately after my aged
+relative entered the room. He looked younger and taller than I had seen
+him, but very serious.
+
+"The yacht is on the Ba,"[2] he said, solemnly.
+
+[Footnote 2: _Ba_ means a sunken rock.]
+
+They were words to me of fearful significance. The yacht, I knew, must
+soon break up, and nothing could save the crew.
+
+I quickly followed my relative into the back drawing-room, where Maggie
+was with her mother. We gazed out into the night, out and across the
+sea. At the same moment, out there on the terrible Ba, a blue light
+sprang up, revealing the yacht and even its people on board. She was
+leaning well over to one side, her masts gone, and the spray dashing
+over her.
+
+"Come!" cried Maggie, "there is no time to lose. We can guide their boat
+to the cave. Come, cousin!"
+
+I felt dazed, thunderstruck. Was I to take active part in a forlorn
+hope? Was Maggie--how beautiful and daring she looked now!--to assume
+the _role_ of a modern Grace Darling? So it appeared.
+
+The events of that night come back to my memory now as if they had
+happened but yesterday. It is a page in my past life that can never be
+obliterated.
+
+We pulled out of the fiord, Maggie and I, and up under lee of the
+island; then, on rounding the point, we encountered the whole force of
+the sea and wind. There was a glimmering light on the wrecked yacht, and
+for that we rowed, or rather were borne along on the gale. No boat, save
+a Shetland skiff, could have been trusted in such a sea.
+
+As we neared the Ba, steadying herself by leaning on my shoulder, Maggie
+stood half up and waved the lantern, and it was answered from the wreck.
+Next moment it seemed to me we were on the lee side, and Maggie herself
+hailed the shipwrecked people.
+
+"We cannot come nearer!" she cried; "lower your boat and follow our
+light closely."
+
+"Take the tiller now," she continued, addressing me, "and steer for the
+light you see on the cliff. Keep her well up, though, or all will be
+lost."
+
+We waited--and that with difficulty--for a few minutes, till we saw by
+the starlight that the yacht's boat was lowered, then away we went.
+
+The light on the cliff-top moved slowly down the wind. I kept the boat's
+head a point or two above it, and on she dashed. The rocks loomed black
+and high as we neared them, the waves breaking in terrible turmoil
+beneath.
+
+Suddenly the light was lowered over the cliff down to the very water's
+edge.
+
+"Steady, now!" cried my brave cousin, and next moment we were round a
+point and into smooth water, with the yacht's boat close beside us. The
+place was partly cave, partly "_noss_." We beached our boats, and here
+we remained all night, and were all rescued next morning by a
+fisherman's yawl.
+
+The yacht's people were the captain, his wife, and one boy--the whole
+crew Norwegians, Brinster by name.
+
+My story is nearly done. What need to tell of the gratitude of those
+Maggie's heroism had saved from a watery grave!
+
+But it came to pass that when, a few months afterwards, a beautiful new
+yacht came round to the fiord to take those shipwrecked mariners away,
+Cousin Maggie went with them on a visit.
+
+It came to pass also that when I paid my very next visit to R---- in the
+following summer, I found living at my relative's house a Major Brinster
+and a Mrs. Brinster.
+
+And Mrs. Brinster was my Cousin Maggie, and Major Brinster was my Cousin
+Maggie's fate.
+
+
+
+
+THE PEDLAR'S PACK.
+
+BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.
+
+
+Colonel Bingham was seated in his library facing the window that looked
+out on to the green sloping lawn, the smiling meadow, and the dark belt
+of firs which skirted the wood. There was a frown on his brow, and his
+eyes wore a perplexed look. On the opposite side of the room stood a
+young girl of seventeen balancing herself adroitly on the ridge of a
+chair, and smiling with evident satisfaction at her own achievement.
+
+The colonel was speaking irritably.
+
+"You see, you can't even now sit still while I speak to you, but you
+must poise yourself on your chair like a schoolboy. Is it a necessary
+part of your existence that you must behave like a boy rather than a
+girl?"
+
+Patty hung her head shamefacedly, and the smile left her lips.
+
+"And then, what is this that I hear about a rifle? Is it true that
+Captain Palmer has lent you one?"
+
+"Only just to practise with for a few weeks. Dad, don't be angry. He has
+a new one, so he doesn't miss it. Why"--warming to her subject and
+forgetting for the moment that she was in great danger of still further
+disgracing herself in her father's eyes by her confession--"I can hit
+even a small object at a very considerable distance five times out of
+six."
+
+The perplexed look deepened in her father's eyes, but the irritability
+had cleared away. He toyed with the open letter that he held in his
+hand. "I suppose it is for this as well as for your other schoolboy
+pranks that your aunt has invited only Rose. But I don't like it--it is
+not right. If it were not for the unfairness to Rose, I should have
+refused outright. As it is, the invitation has been accepted by me, and
+it must stand, for Rose must not be deprived of her pleasures because
+you like----"
+
+"Invitation! What invitation?" interrupted Patty.
+
+"Your aunt is giving a big ball on the 13th, and she is insistent that
+Rose should be present. It will be the child's first ball, and I cannot
+gainsay her. But, Patty, I should like you both to go. You are
+seventeen, are you not?"
+
+"Seventeen and a half," returned Patty with a little choke in her voice.
+
+It was the first she had heard of the invitation, and it stung her to
+think that Lady Glendower thought her too much of a hoyden to invite her
+with the sister who was but one year older. Patty was girl enough to
+love dancing even above her other amusements, and the unbidden tears
+came into her eyes as she stood looking forlornly at her father.
+
+Colonel Bingham coughed, and tapped his writing-desk with the letter.
+
+"Seventeen and a half," he repeated, "quite old enough to go to a ball.
+Never mind, Patty, I've a good mind to give a ball myself and leave out
+her younger daughter, only that it would be too much like _tu quoque_,
+and your aunt has a reason for not extending her invitation here which I
+should not have in relation to your cousin Fanny, eh, Patty?"
+
+But Patty's eyes were still humid, and she could only gaze dumbly at her
+father with such a pathetic look on her pretty face that Colonel Bingham
+could not stand it.
+
+"Look here, child," he said, "why aren't you more like your sister Rose?
+Then her pleasures would be always yours----"
+
+"Who's talking about me?" asked a gay voice, and into the room walked
+Patty's sister Rose.
+
+"I am. I have been telling Patty about the invitation."
+
+"Poor Patty!" said Rose, and she put her arm sympathetically round
+Patty's neck. "Aunt Glendower is most unkind, I think."
+
+"It can't be helped," murmured Patty, choking back the rising sob. "If I
+had been born a sweet maiden who did nothing but stitch at fancy-work
+all day long perhaps she would have invited me, but I can't give up my
+cricket, my riding my horse bare-backed, my shooting, just for the sake
+of a ball or two that Aunt Glendower feels inclined to give once a year.
+Much as I love dancing, I can't give up all these pleasures for an
+occasional dance."
+
+"Rose has pleasures too," said her father quietly, "but they are of the
+womanly kind--music, painting, reading, tending flowers."
+
+Rose laughed gaily as Patty turned up her pretty nose scornfully.
+
+"Let Patty alone, dad. You know very well that you would grow tired of
+too much sameness if Patty showed the same tastes that I have."
+
+Colonel Bingham glanced fondly at her and then at Patty, whose face, in
+spite of her brave words, was still very tearful-looking. He knew that
+in his heart he loved his two daughters equally--his "two motherless
+girls," as he was wont to call them--and although he belonged to the old
+school of those who abhor masculine pursuits for women, yet he felt that
+Rose's words were true, and for that very dissimilarity did he love
+them.
+
+"Heigho," said Patty, jumping off her chair, "I am not going to grieve
+any more. Let's talk of Rose's dress, and when she is going."
+
+"We both start to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow? And do you go too, dad?"
+
+"Yes, Patty. I have business in town with my lawyer, which I have been
+putting off from day to day, but now I feel I shall take the opportunity
+of transacting it with him on the occasion of taking Rose up with me.
+Besides, I can't let her go to her first ball without being there to see
+how she looks."
+
+"And what about the dress?"
+
+"Aunt says she will see to that, so we have to start a few days before
+the ball takes place for Celine to get a dress ready for me," said Rose,
+looking tenderly at Patty as she spoke, for the two girls loved each
+other, and it hurt her to think that Patty must be left behind.
+
+"You won't be nervous, child?" asked her father.
+
+"Nervous, father! dear me, no, a tomboy nervous? Why, I have Mrs.
+Tucker, cook, and Fanny to bear me company, and if you take the groom we
+shall still have the stable boy," returned Patty triumphantly.
+
+"I am glad you sent away that new coachman, dad," said Rose earnestly.
+"I never liked his face, it always looked so sly and sneaking."
+
+"Yes, I am glad too, and we must endeavour to find one when we are in
+town, and perhaps bring him back with us, Rose--the place is a lonely
+one without a man when I am away." He spoke the last words to himself,
+but the girls heard him and laughed. They knew no fear. Why should they?
+Nothing had ever come near to harm them during the short years of their
+existence in their country home.
+
+Colonel Bingham had of late questioned the wisdom of continuing to live
+with his daughters in his beautiful, isolated house. It was three miles
+from the nearest village, post-office, and church, and there was not
+another habitation within that distance; it was five miles from the
+nearest market town. But his heart clung to it. Hadn't he and his bride,
+twenty years before, chosen this beautiful spot of all others to build
+their house upon and make it their home? Had not his wife loved every
+nook and cranny, every stick and stone of the home they had beautified
+within and without? And therein lay the colonel's two chief objections
+to leaving the place--it was beautiful--and--his wife had loved it.
+
+So did his daughters too, for that matter; but they were growing up, and
+newer scenes and livelier surroundings were now needed for them. The
+colonel often caught himself pondering over the matter, and one of the
+reasons for his wishing to visit his sister was that of laying the
+matter open before her, and hearing her opinion from her own lips.
+
+At an early hour the next morning Colonel Bingham, Rose, and the groom,
+with two of the horses, had left the house.
+
+There was nothing to alarm Patty. The beautiful home with its peaceful
+surroundings was perfectly quiet for the two days that followed, and if
+Patty, in spite of her brave heart, had felt any qualms of fear, they
+had vanished on the morning of the third day, which dawned so
+brilliantly bright that she was eager to take her rifle and begin
+practising at the target she herself had set up at the end of the short
+wood to the left of the house.
+
+Meanwhile, the housekeeper had set both maids to work in turning out
+several unused rooms, and a great amount of brisk work was going on. The
+trim housemaid, Fanny, who was the housekeeper's niece, had come down
+the back stairs with an armful of carpets, and had brushed into the
+flagged yard before she noticed a pedlar-like-looking man standing
+before the back door with a pack upon his back.
+
+"What do you do here?" she called out sharply.
+
+The man appeared weighted down with his bundle, which looked to Fanny's
+eyes a good deal bigger than most of the pedlars' packs that she had
+seen.
+
+"I am on my way through the country-side selling what maids most love--a
+bit of ribbon, a tie, a good serviceable apron, a feather for the hat,
+and many a pretty gown; but on my way from the village I met a friend
+from my own part of the country, which is not in this county, but two
+counties up north, who tells me that my wife is lying dangerously ill.
+If I wish to see her alive I must needs travel fast, and a man can
+scarce do that with as heavy a pack on his back as I bear. What I
+venture to ask most respectfully is that I may place my pack in one
+corner of this house, and I will return to fetch it as soon as ever I
+can."
+
+He gave a furtive dab to his eyes with the corner of a blue-checked
+handkerchief he held in one hand, and hoisted his bundle up higher with
+apparent difficulty.
+
+Fanny looked gravely at him "Why didn't you leave your pack at the
+village inn?" was all she said.
+
+"I would have done so had I met my friend before leaving the village,
+but I met him just at the entrance to the wood, and it seemed hopeless
+to trudge all that way back with not only a heavy burden to bear, but a
+still heavier heart."
+
+He sighed miserably as he spoke, and Fanny's soft heart was touched.
+
+The man spoke well--better than many pedlars that Fanny had met with,
+and his tone was respectful, albeit very pleading. Fanny's heart was
+growing softer and softer. He looked faint and weary himself, she
+thought, and oh! so very sad----
+
+"Fanny, Fanny, what are you about? Ain't those carpets finished yet?"
+The housekeeper's voice sounded sharply at the top of the back
+staircase.
+
+The pedlar looked scared. Fanny beckoned him with one finger to follow
+her.
+
+"Coming, aunt," she called back. And, still silently beckoning, she
+conducted the pedlar into the small breakfast-room.
+
+"Put it down in this corner," she said, "and come for it as soon as you
+can."
+
+"May I beg that it will remain untouched," said the pedlar humbly. "It
+contains many valuables--at least to me--for it comprises nearly all
+that I possess in the world."
+
+"No one will touch it in here, for this room is never used."
+
+"I cannot thank you enough for your compassion----" began the pedlar,
+when the sharp voice was heard again.
+
+"Fanny, cook's waitin' for you to help her move some things. Are you
+comin' or not?"
+
+"Coming now," was Fanny's answer, and, shutting the breakfast-room door,
+she hustled the pedlar out into the flagged yard without ceremony.
+
+With a deferential lifting of his cap the pedlar again murmured his
+grateful thanks, and made his way out the way he had come in. Fanny
+waited to lock the yard gate after him, murmuring to herself: "That
+gate didn't ought to have been left open--it's just like that lazy boy
+Sam to think that now Britton's gone off with the horses he can do as he
+likes."
+
+It was not until the furniture in the room had been moved about to her
+satisfaction that the housekeeper demanded to know the reason for
+Fanny's delay downstairs.
+
+"It isn't cook's business to be waitin' about for you," she said
+sharply, "she's got her other duties to perform. What kept you?"
+
+Then Fanny told what had caused the delay, and was aghast at the effect
+it produced upon her aunt.
+
+"I wouldn't have had it happen just now for all my year's wages," the
+housekeeper exclaimed hotly. "What do we know about the man and his
+pack?"
+
+"He looked so white and quiet-like, and so sad," pleaded her niece half
+tearfully.
+
+"That's nothin' to us. I promised the master before he went away that I
+wouldn't let a strange foot pass over the doorway while he was away. And
+here you--a mere chit of a housemaid--go, without sayin', 'With your
+leave,' or, 'By your leave,' and let a dirty pedlar with his pack
+straight into the breakfast-room. He's sure to have scented the silver
+lyin' on the sideboard for cleanin' this afternoon. If I didn't think
+he'd gone a long way from here by this I would send you after him to
+tell him to take it away again."
+
+Having delivered herself of this long, explosive speech, the housekeeper
+proceeded in the direction of the breakfast-room to review the pack, and
+Fanny and the cook followed in her wake.
+
+"As I thought," she ejaculated, eyeing the pack from the doorway, "a
+dirty pedlar's smellin' pack." But the tone of her voice was mollified,
+for the pack looked innocent enough, although it was somewhat bulky and
+unwieldy in appearance.
+
+Her niece took heart of grace from her tone, and murmured
+apologetically:
+
+"He's got the loveliest things in that bundle that ever you'd see,
+aunt. Feathers, ribbons, dresses, aprons, and he'll unpack them all when
+he comes back to let us see them."
+
+"A pack o' tawdry rubbish, I have no doubt," was her aunt's reply; "only
+fit for flighty young girls, not for gentlemen's servants."
+
+Thus silenced, Fanny said no more, and the three women betook themselves
+to their different occupations.
+
+After half an hour's work her girlish glee was still unabated, and on
+passing the door of the breakfast-room mere curious elation impelled her
+to open it softly and to look in. A perplexed look stole into her eyes
+as they rested on the black object in the corner. It was there sure
+enough, safe and sound, but had it not been shifted from the corner in
+which the pedlar had placed it, and in which her aunt had seen it in
+company with herself and the cook? No, that was impossible. She had only
+fancied that it was right in the corner, and Fanny softly shut the door
+again without making a sound, and went on with her daily duties.
+
+This time her aunt employed her, and she was not free again till another
+two hours had passed. It was now close on the luncheon hour, and Fanny
+thought she would just take one little peep before setting the
+luncheon-table for the young mistress who would come home as usual as
+hungry as a hunter.
+
+Gently she turned the handle, and stood upon the threshold. Her eyes
+grew fixed and staring, her cheek blanched to a chalky white. Without
+all doubt--_the pack had moved_!
+
+Fanny stood rooted to the spot. Wild, strange ideas flitted through her
+brain. There was something uncanny in this pack. Was it bewitched? She
+dared not call her aunt or the cook: she was in disgrace with both, and
+no wonder, the poor girl thought miserably, for the very sight now of
+that uncouth-looking object in the corner was beginning to assume
+hideous proportions in the girl's mind. She must watch and wait, and
+wait and watch for every sign that the pack made, but oh! the agony of
+bearing that uncanny secret alone! Oh for some one to share it with
+her!
+
+A figure darkened the window of the breakfast-room, and Fanny caught
+sight of her young mistress's form as it passed with the rifle over her
+shoulder.
+
+With a soft step she left the room, and intercepted her on the other
+side of the verandah. "Miss Patty," she whispered miserably.
+
+Patty turned, her pretty face lighting up with a good-humoured smile as
+she nodded and said, "Luncheon ready, Fanny? I am simply ravenous."
+
+"Ye-es, I think so, miss. But oh! miss, I want to speak to you badly."
+
+Fatty came forward with the smile still on her lips. "Has Mrs. Tucker
+been scolding you dreadfully, you poor Fanny?"
+
+"Then she's told you?" gasped the girl.
+
+"She's told me nothing. I haven't seen her, but you look so woebegone
+that I thought she had been having a pitch battle with you for
+neglecting something or other, and you wanted me to get you out of the
+scrape."
+
+Fanny groaned inwardly. No, her aunt had said nothing, and she must
+brace herself up, and tell the whole story from beginning to end. The
+beginning, she began to think, was not so dreadful as the end. Oh that
+she could dare to disbelieve her eyes, and declare that there was no
+end--no awful, uncanny end!
+
+At length, in the quiet of the verandah, the story was told, and Fanny's
+heart misgave her more and more as she observed the exceeding gravity of
+her young mistress's bright face as the story neared its finish. When
+the finish did come, Patty's face was more than grave; the weight of
+responsibility was on her, and to young, unused shoulders that weight is
+particularly difficult to bear.
+
+"Come and show me where it is," was the only remark she made, but Fanny
+noticed that the red lips had lost some of their bright colour, and the
+pink in the soft cheeks was of a fainter tinge than when she had first
+seen her.
+
+Without making the slightest sound, without one click of the handle,
+Fanny opened the door, and Patty looked in. Her courage came back with
+a bound. Fanny was a goose, there was nothing to be alarmed about.
+
+She looked up to smile encouragingly at Fanny, when the smile froze on
+her lips, for Fanny's face was livid. Without a word she beckoned her
+young mistress out of the room, and as softly as before closed the door.
+Then, turning to her, she whispered through her set teeth:
+
+"_It has moved again!_"
+
+A cold shiver ran down through Patty's spine, but she was no girl to be
+frightened by the superstitious fancies of an ignorant serving maid.
+
+"Nonsense, Fanny!" she said sharply, "you are growing quite crazed over
+that stupid pack. I saw nothing unusual in it, it looked innocent enough
+in all conscience."
+
+"You never saw it move," was the answer, given in such a lifeless tone
+that Patty was chilled again.
+
+"I'll tell you what, Fanny. I'll go in after luncheon, and see if it has
+moved from the place I saw it in."
+
+"Did you notice the place well where it stood?" asked Fanny.
+
+"Yes," replied Patty, "I'd know if it moved again. Don't tell Mrs.
+Tucker or cook anything about it. You and I will try to checkmate that
+pack if there is anything uncanny in it. Now tell cook I am ready for
+luncheon if she is."
+
+But when the luncheon came on the table Patty had lost all hunger. She
+merely nibbled at trifles till Fanny came to clear away.
+
+"I'm going to that room," she whispered. "If Mrs. Tucker should want me,
+or perhaps Sam might, for I told him I was going to see how well he had
+cleaned the harness that I found in the loft, then you must come in
+quietly and beckon me out. Don't let any one know I am watching that
+pack."
+
+"Yes, miss," was Fanny's answer, given so hopelessly that Patty put a
+kind hand on her shoulder with the words:
+
+"Cheer up, Fanny. I don't believe it's so bad as you make out. It is my
+belief you have imagined that the pack moved."
+
+"It isn't my fancy, it isn't," cried the girl, the tears starting to her
+eyes. "If anything dreadful happens, then it is me that has injured the
+master--the best master that a poor girl could have." And with her apron
+to her eyes Fanny left the room.
+
+She came back a minute later to see Patty examining the priming of her
+rifle. "Miss Patty," she whispered aghast, "you ain't never going to
+shoot at it!"
+
+"I am going to sit in that room all the afternoon," said Patty calmly,
+"and if that pack moves while my eyes are on it I'll fire into that pack
+even if by so doing I riddle every garment in it." And without another
+word Patty stalked out of the room with her rifle on her shoulder.
+
+At the door of the breakfast-room she set her teeth hard, and opened the
+door.
+
+_The pack had moved since she saw it._
+
+It was with a face destitute of all colour that Patty seated herself
+upon the table to mount guard over that black object now lying several
+yards away from the corner. Her eyes were glued to the bundle; they grew
+large and glassy, and a film seemed to come over them as she gazed,
+without daring even to wink. How the minutes passed--if they revolved
+themselves into half hours--she did not know. No one called her, no one
+approached the door, she sat on with one fixed stare at the pedlar's
+pack.
+
+Was she dreaming? Was it fancy? No, the pack was moving! Slowly, very
+slowly it crept--it could hardly be called moving, and Patty watched it
+fascinated. Then it stopped, and Patty, creeping nearer, stood over it,
+and watched more closely. Something was breathing inside! Something
+inside that pack was alive! Patty could now clearly see the movement
+that each respiration made. She had made up her mind, and now she took
+her courage in both hands.
+
+She retreated softly to the opposite side of the room, and raising the
+rifle to her shoulder fired.
+
+There was a loud, a deafening report, a shrill scream, and a stream of
+blood trickled forth from the pack. Fanny was in the room crying
+hysterically, Mrs. Tucker and cook were looking over her shoulder with
+blanched faces.
+
+Patty, with her face not one whit less white than any of the others,
+laid the smoking rifle on the table, and spoke with a tremulousness not
+usual to her.
+
+"Mrs. Tucker, some vile plot has been hatched to rob this house while
+your master is away. That pack doesn't hold finery as Fanny was at first
+led to believe, but it holds a man, and I have shot him."
+
+With trembling hands and colourless lips Mrs. Tucker, with the help of
+her maids, cut away the oilcloth that bound the pack together, and
+disclosed the face of a short sturdy man, it was the face of the late
+coachman, Timothy Smith! With one voice they cried aloud as they saw it.
+
+"Dead! Is he dead?" cried Patty, shuddering and covering her face with
+her hands. "Oh, Mrs. Tucker, and it is I who have killed him!"
+
+A groan from the prostrate figure reassured the party as to the fatality
+of the adventure, and aroused in them a sense of the necessity of doing
+what they could to relieve the sufferings of their prostrate enemy.
+
+The huddled-up position occupied by the man when in the pack made him,
+of course, a good target, and made it possible for a single shot to do
+much more mischief than it might have done in passing once through any
+single part of his body. It was, of course, a random shot, and entering
+the pack vertically as the man was crouching with his hands upon his
+knees, it passed through his right arm and left hand and lodged in his
+left knee, thus completely disabling him without touching a vital part.
+
+With some difficulty they managed to get the wounded man on to a chair
+bedstead which they brought from the housekeeper's room for the purpose,
+and such "first aid" as Patty was able to render was quickly given.
+
+"And now," said Patty, "the question is, who will ride Black Bess to the
+village and procure help, for we must have help for the wounded as well
+as aid against the ruffians who no doubt intend to raid the house
+to-night."
+
+"Sam, miss?" questioned the housekeeper timidly. All her nerve seemed to
+have departed from her since the report of that shot had rung through
+the house, and there was Timothy Smith's face staring up at her. Usually
+a stout-hearted woman, all her courage had deserted her now.
+
+"Yes," said Patty gravely, "I think we shall have to take Sam into our
+confidence, unless I go myself. Perhaps, Mrs. Tucker, I had better go
+myself. Sam is only a boy, and he might be tempted to tell the story to
+everybody he met, and if the thieves themselves get wind of what has
+happened we shall have small chance of ever catching them. Would you be
+afraid if I rode off at once?"
+
+Without any false pride the young girl saw how much depended on her, and
+saw too the blanched faces of the two women as they looked in turn at
+each other at the thought of their sole protector vanishing.
+
+But it was only for a minute. Mrs. Tucker shook off with a courageous
+firmness the last remnant of nervousness that possessed her.
+
+"Go, and the Lord go with you, Miss Patty," she said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As she rode along through the quiet country lanes smelling sweet of the
+honeysuckle in the hedge and the wild dog-rose bursting into bloom,
+Patty's thoughts travelled fast and furiously, every whit as fast as
+Black Bess's hasty steps. Should she draw bridle at the village? No. She
+made up her mind quickly at that. In all probability the would-be
+thieves had made the village inn their headquarters for that day and
+night, and the pedlar--the man she wished most to avoid--would be the
+very person she would encounter. The village was small. Only one
+policeman patrolled the narrow-street, and that only occasionally, and
+how quickly would the news fly from mouth to mouth that a would-be
+robbery had been detected in time to save Colonel Bingham's valuable
+silver!
+
+No, the pedlar would not be allowed to escape in that way if she could
+help it. Every step of the five miles to the town of Frampton would she
+ride, and draw help from there.
+
+As she neared the village she walked her horse at a quiet pace, albeit
+her brain was throbbing, and her nerves all in a quiver to go faster.
+She nodded smilingly to the familiar faces as she met them in the
+street, although she felt very far from smiling, and everywhere she
+seemed to see the face of Timothy Smith. Then her heart gave a bound as
+she saw, leaning against the wicket-gate of the village inn, three
+men--two with the most villainous faces she had ever seen, and the third
+bore the face of the man that Fanny had described as the pedlar. She was
+not mistaken, then, when she thought they would make this their
+headquarters.
+
+She drew bridle as she neared the inn. Her quick brain saw the necessity
+of it, if but to explain her presence there.
+
+"Will you be so good as to ask the landlady to come out to me?" she
+asked, with a gracious smile--the smile that the villagers always said
+was "Miss Patty's own."
+
+The pedlar lifted his cap with the same air that Fanny had so accurately
+described, and himself undertook to go upon the mission.
+
+"Bless you, Miss Patty," exclaimed the buxom landlady as she came out,
+curtseying and smiling, followed in a leisurely manner by the pedlar,
+"where be you a-ridin' that Black Bess be so hot and foam-like about the
+mouth?"
+
+Patty stooped forward and patted her horse's neck, fully aware that
+three pairs of ears at the wicket-gate were being strained to catch her
+answer.
+
+"It is too bad of me to ride her so fast, Mrs. Clark. The fact of the
+matter is I ought to be at Miss Price's this moment for tennis and tea,
+but I am late, and have been trying to make up for lost time. However, I
+must not breathe Black Bess too much, must I, or else I shall not be
+allowed to ride her again?" and Patty smiled her bewitching smile,
+which always captivated the heart of the landlady of the Roaring Lion.
+
+An order for supplies for the servants' cellar, given in a firm voice,
+justified her appearance in the village and satisfied the eager
+listeners as to the object of her visit, after which, with a nod and a
+smile, Patty rode onwards.
+
+Not till she was out of sight and hearing of the village did she urge
+Black Bess to the top of her bent, and they flew onwards like the wind.
+
+Thud, thud, thud went the horse's hoofs, keeping time to the beating of
+Patty's heart as she recalled again and again the villainous faces
+leaning over the wicket-gate.
+
+Even Black Bess seemed to realise the importance of her mission and it
+was not long before Patty's heart grew lighter as she caught sight not
+very far off of the spire of Trinity Church, and the turreted roof of
+the Town Hall of Frampton. Reaching the town she drew rein at Major
+Price's house, where, with bated breath, her story was received by the
+major and his two grown-up sons. A message was sent to the police
+station, and in a short while two burly sergeants of police presented
+themselves, to whom Patty repeated her tale.
+
+Arrangements were soon made. A surgeon was sent for and engaged to drive
+over with the police.
+
+"They rascals won't break in till darkness falls, miss," said one of the
+men. "But we'll start at once in a trap. Better be too early than too
+late."
+
+The Prices would not hear of Patty riding Black Bess back. They
+themselves would drive her home in the high dog-cart, and Black Bess
+would be left behind to forget her fatigue in Major Price's comfortable
+stables.
+
+Of course they didn't go the way that Patty had come. It would never
+have done to go through the village and meet those same ruffians, who
+would have understood the position in the twinkling of an eye. Instead,
+they took a roundabout way, which, although it took an extra half hour,
+brought them through the wood on the other side of Colonel Bingham's
+house.
+
+"It is lonely--too lonely a place," muttered Major Price, as the two
+conveyances swung round to the front of the house.
+
+"But it's lovely, and we love it," answered Patty softly.
+
+Then the door was opened cautiously by Sam, and behind him were the
+huddled figures of Mrs. Tucker, cook, and Fanny. What a sigh of relief
+ran through the assembly when the burly forms of the two policeman made
+their appearance in the hall! And tears of real thankfulness sprang to
+poor Fanny's eyes, whose red rims told their own tale.
+
+Poor Patty's heart beat painfully as she conducted the six men to the
+breakfast-room where the wounded coachman lay. She stood with averted
+face and eyes as they bent over him, twining and re-twining her fingers
+with nervous terror as she thought that it was her hand that had perhaps
+killed him.
+
+"Ah! this tells something," exclaimed one of the officers in uniform,
+detaching as he spoke a small whistle fastened round the neck of the man
+who lay all unconscious of that official attention. "This was to give
+the alarm when all in the house were asleep. We shall use this when the
+time comes to attract the men here."
+
+Beyond the discovery of the whistle, and a revolver, nothing more of
+importance was found, and all caught themselves wishing for the time for
+action to arrive.
+
+The surgeon dressed the man's wounds and declared him to be in no
+immediate danger, after which they carried him upstairs to a remote
+room, where it would be quite impossible for him to give any warning to
+his confederates, even if he should have the strength.
+
+The hour came at last when poor Patty felt worn out with suspense and
+fearful anxiety; came, when Mrs. Tucker and her two maids were strung up
+to an almost hysterical pitch of excitement; came, when Sam was
+beginning to look absolutely hollow-eyed with watching every movement of
+the police with admiring yet fearful glances.
+
+It was twelve o'clock. The grandfather's clock on the stairs had struck
+the hour in company with several silvery chimes about the house, making
+music when all else was still as death.
+
+Up to that time the sky had been dark and lowering, causing darkness to
+reign supreme, till the full moon, suddenly emerging from the heavy
+flying clouds, lighted up the house and its surroundings with its
+refulgent beams. Then suddenly throughout the silent night there rang
+forth a low, soft, piercing whistle. Only once it sounded, and then dead
+silence fell again. The wounded man started in his bed, but he could not
+raise his hand, and the whistle was gone.
+
+The eyes of the women watchers looked at each other with faces weary and
+worn with anxiety and fear.
+
+Then another sound broke the stillness. Another whistle--an answering
+call to the one that had rung forth before! It had the effect of
+startling every one in the house, for it came from under the very window
+of the room in which they were gathered.
+
+With an upraised finger, cautioning silence, the sergeant stepped to the
+window and raised it softly.
+
+"Hist!" he said in a thrilling whisper, without showing himself, "the
+lib'ry winder."
+
+He softly closed the casement again, having discerned in that brief
+moment the moonlit shadows of three men lying athwart the lawn.
+
+In stockinged feet the five men slid noiselessly into the library where
+the Venetians had been so lowered as to prevent the silvery moonrays
+from penetrating into the room. Placing the three gentlemen in
+convenient places should their assistance be needed, one of the men in
+uniform pushed aside the French window which he had previously
+unfastened to be in readiness.
+
+"Hist! softly there," he growled; "the swag is ours."
+
+With a barely concealed grunt of satisfaction the window was pushed
+farther open, and the forms of three men made their way into the room.
+
+With lightning-like celerity the arms of the first man were pinioned,
+and when the others turned to fly they found their egress cut off by the
+three Prices, who stood pointing menacing revolvers at them.
+
+"The game's up!" growled the sham pedlar. "Who blabbed?"
+
+"Not Timothy Smith," said the elder sergeant lightly, as he adroitly
+fastened the handcuffs on his man.
+
+"What's come of him?"
+
+"He's in bed, as all decent people ought to be at this time o'night,"
+and the sergeant laughed at his own wit.
+
+The police carried their men off in triumph in the trap, and the wiry
+little pony, rejoiced to find his head turned homewards, trotted on
+right merrily, requiring neither whip nor word to urge him on to express
+speed, in total ignorance of the vindictive feelings that animated the
+breasts of three at least of the men seated behind him.
+
+Major Price and his two sons remained till the morning, for Patty had
+broken down when all was over, and then a telegram summoned Colonel
+Bingham to return.
+
+"I am not exactly surprised," he said at length, when he had heard the
+story; "something like this was bound to occur one day or other, and I
+cannot be too thankful that nothing has happened to injure my dear brave
+girl, or any of the household. Patty, I have felt so convinced of
+something dreadful happening during one of my unavoidable absences from
+home that I have made arrangements with an old friend of mine in town to
+lease this place to him for three years."
+
+"And when does he come?" asked Patty breathlessly.
+
+"Next month. He is going to make it a fishing- and shooting-box, and
+have bachelor friends to stay with him. So, my dear, we all clear out in
+a month's time."
+
+Patty gave a long-drawn sigh. Her father did not know whether it was one
+of pleasure or regret.
+
+"We can come back if we like after the three years," he whispered.
+
+"I am glad we are going just now," she whispered back. "That pedlar's
+eyes haunt me, and they are all desperate men."
+
+These words were sufficient to make Colonel Bingham hurry on his
+arrangements, so that before three weeks were over he and his whole
+household were on their way to their new home.
+
+As they got out of the train Colonel Bingham turned to Patty. "You and I
+will drive to Lady Glendower's, where we shall stay the night."
+
+"Oh, dad, darling dad, don't take me there. Aunt Glendower won't like a
+hoyden to visit her."
+
+"She will like to welcome a brave girl," answered her father quietly.
+
+But as Patty still shrank away from the thought he added:
+
+"I have told her all that has happened, and she herself wrote asking me
+to bring you, and I promised I would."
+
+Rose met her with soft, clinging kisses, and then Lady Glendower folded
+her in an embrace such as Patty had not thought her capable of giving.
+
+"I am proud of my brave niece," she whispered. "Patty, go upstairs with
+Rose, and get Celine to measure you for your ball-dress. I am going to
+give another ball next month, and you are to be the heroine."
+
+Under skilful treatment Timothy Smith recovered his usual health, though
+the injury to his hand and knee made him a cripple for the rest of his
+life. The trial was another terrible experience for Patty, and Fanny
+thought she would have died when she saw the prisoners stand forward in
+the dock to receive sentence. "Five years' penal servitude," said the
+judge, and Patty sometimes shudders to think that the five years are
+nearly up.
+
+
+
+
+THE UNBIDDEN GUEST.
+
+BY F. B. FORESTER.
+
+
+"No, sir," the old keeper said reflectively. "I don't know no ghost
+stories; none as you'd care to hear, that is. But I could tell you of
+something that happened in these parts once, and it was as strange a
+thing as any ghost story I ever heard tell on."
+
+I had spent the morning on the moor, grouse shooting, and mid-day had
+brought me for an hour's welcome rest to the lonely cottage, where the
+old superannuated keeper, father to the stalwart velvet-jacketed
+Hercules who had acted as my guide throughout the forenoon, lived from
+year's end to year's end with his son and half-a-dozen dogs for company.
+The level beams of the glowing August sun bathed in a golden glow the
+miles of purple moorland lying round us; air and scenery were good to
+breathe and to look on; and now, as the three of us sat on a turf seat
+outside the cottage door enjoying the soft sleepy inaction of the
+afternoon, a question of mine concerning the folk-lore of the district,
+after which, hardened materialist though I called myself, I was
+conscious of a secret hankering, had drawn the foregoing remark from the
+patriarchal lips.
+
+"Let's hear it, by all means," said I, lighting my pipe and settling
+myself preparatory to listening. A slight grunt, resembling a stifled
+laugh, came from Ben the keeper.
+
+"You'll have to mind, sir," he put in, a twinkle in his eye. "Dad
+believes what he's agoing to tell you, every word of it. It's gospel
+truth to him."
+
+"Ay, that I do," responded the old man warmly. "And why shouldn't I?
+Didn't I see it with my own eyes? And seein's believin', ain't it?"
+
+"You arouse my curiosity," I said. "Let us have the story by all means,
+and if it is a personal experience, so much the better."
+
+"Well, sir," began the old man, evidently gratified by these signs of
+interest, and casting a triumphant glance at his son, "what I've got to
+tell you don't belong to this time of day, of course. When I says I was
+a little chap of six years old or thereabouts, and that I'll be
+eighty-five come Michaelmas, you'll understand that it must have been a
+tidy sight of years ago.
+
+"Father, he was keeper on these moors here, same as his son's been after
+him, and as _his_ son"--with a glance of fatherly pride at the stalwart
+young fellow beside him--"is now, and will be for many years to come,
+please God. Him and mother and me, the three of us, lived together in
+just such another cottage as this one, across t'other side of the moor,
+out Farnington way. The railway runs past there now, over the very place
+the cottage stood on, I believe; but no one so much as dreamt o'
+railways, time I talk on. Not a road was near, and all around there was
+nothin' but the moors stretching away for miles, all purple ling and
+heather, with not a living soul nearer than Wharton, and that was a good
+twelve miles away. It was pretty lonely for mother, o' course, during
+the day; but she was a brave woman, and when dad come home at night,
+never a word would she let on to tell him how right down scared she got
+at times and how mortally sick she felt of hearing the sound of her own
+voice.
+
+"'Been pretty quiet for you, Polly?' dad would say at night sometimes,
+when the three of us would be sitting round the fire, with the flame
+dancing and shining on the wall and making black shadows in all the
+corners.
+
+"'Ye-es, so, so,' mother would answer, kind of grudging like, and then
+she'd start telling him what she'd been about all day, or something as
+I'd said or done, so as to turn his attention, you see, sir. And as a
+woman can gen'rally lead a man off on whatever trail she likes to get
+his nose on dad would never think no more about it; and as for mother
+and me being that lonely, when he and the dogs were all away, why, I
+don't suppose the thought of it ever entered his head. So, what with her
+never complaining, and that, dad grew easier in his mind, and once or
+twice, when he'd be away at the Castle late in the afternoon, he'd even
+stay there overnight.
+
+"Well, sir, one day when dad comes home to get his dinner he tells
+mother as how there's a lot of gentlemen come down from London for the
+shooting, and as he'd got orders to be on hand bright and early next
+morning,--the meaning of that being that he'd have to spend the night at
+the Castle. Mother didn't say much; 'twasn't her way to carry on when
+she knew a thing couldn't be helped, and dad went on talking.
+
+"'To-morrow's quarter-day, Polly, and you've got our rent all right for
+the agent when he comes. Put this along wi' it, lass, it's Tom Regan's,
+and he's asked me to hand it over for him and save the miles of
+walking.'
+
+"I don't know what come to mother, whether something warned her, or
+what, but she give a sort of jump as dad spoke.
+
+"'Oh, Jim,' says she, all in a twitter, 'you're never going to leave all
+that money here, and you away, and the child and me all alone. Can't
+you--can't you leave one of the dogs?'
+
+"Dad stared at her. 'No,' he says, 'I can't, more's the pity. They're
+all wanted to-morrow, and I've sent them on to the Castle. Why, Polly,
+lass, what's come to you? I've never known you take on like this
+before.'
+
+"Then mother, seeing how troubled and uneasy he looked, plucked up heart
+and told him, trying to laugh, never to mind her--she had only been
+feeling a bit low, and it made her timid like. But dad didn't laugh in
+answer, only said very grave that if he'd ha' known she felt that way,
+he'd have took good care she wasn't ever left alone overnight. This
+should be the last time, he'd see to that, and anyhow he'd take the
+rent money with him and wouldn't leave it to trouble her. Then he kissed
+her, and kissed me, and went off, striding away over the moors towards
+Farnington--the sunset way I called it, 'cause the sun set over there;
+and I can see him big and tall like Ben here, moving away among the
+heather till we lost him at the dip of the moor. And I mind how, just
+before we saw no more of him, he pulled up and looked back, as if
+mother's words stuck to him, somehow, and he couldn't get them out of
+his mind.
+
+"Mother seemed queer and anxious all that afternoon. Long before dusk
+she called me in from playing in the bit of garden in front of the door,
+and shut and barred it closely, not so much as letting me stand outside
+to watch the sunset, as I always liked to do. It was getting dark
+already, the shadows had begun to fall black and gloomy all round the
+cottage, and the fire was sending queer dancing gleams flickering up the
+wall, when I hears a queer, scratching, whining noise at the door.
+
+"Mother was putting out the tea-cups, and she didn't hear it at first.
+But I, sitting in front of the fire, heard it well enough, and I tumbled
+off my stool and ran to the door to get it open, for I thought I knew
+what it was. But mother had pulled the bar across at the top and I
+couldn't stir it.
+
+"'There's something at the door that wants to come in,' I says, pulling
+at it.
+
+"'There ain't nothing of the sort,' says mother shortly, and goes on
+putting out the tea. 'Let the door alone.'
+
+"'Yes, there is,' I says. 'It's a dog. It's Nip, or Juno,' meaning the
+brace of pointers that dad had usually in the kennels outside.
+
+"Then mother, thinking that perhaps dad had found that one of the dogs
+could be spared after all, and had told it to go home, went to the door
+and opened it. I had been right and wrong too, for on the doorstep there
+was a large black dog.
+
+"My word! but he was a beautiful creature, sir, the finest dog I ever
+set eyes on. Like a setter in the make of him, but no setter that ever
+I saw could match him for size or looks. His coat was jet-black, as
+glossy as the skin of a thoroughbred, with just one streak of white
+showing down the breast, and his eyes--well, they were the very
+humanest, sir, that ever I see looking out of a dog's face.
+
+"Now mother, although she had expected to find a dog outside, hadn't
+dreamt of anything except one of ourn, and she made like to shut the
+door on him. But the creature was too quick for her. He had pushed his
+head through before she knew it, and she scarcely saw how, or even felt
+the door press against her when he had slipped past and was in the room.
+
+"Mother was used to dogs, and hadn't no fear of them, but she didn't
+altogether like strange ones, you see, sir, me being such a child and
+all; and her first thought was to put the creature out. So she pulled
+the door wide open and pointed to it, stamping her foot and saying, 'Be
+off! Go-home.'
+
+"It was all very well to say that, but the dog wouldn't go. Not a step
+would he budge, but only stood there, wagging his tail and looking at
+her with them beautiful eyes of his, as were the biggest and
+beautifullest and softest I ever see in dog before or since. She took up
+a stick then, but his eyes were that imploring that she hadn't the heart
+to use it; and at last, for the odd kind of uneasiness that had hung
+about her ever since dad had gone was on her still, and the dog was a
+dog and meant protection whatever else it might be, she shut the door,
+barred it across, and said to me that we would let it stop.
+
+"I was delighted, of course, and wanted to make friends at once; but the
+queer thing was that the dog wouldn't let me touch him. He ran round
+under the table and lay down in a corner of the room, looking at me with
+his big soft eyes and wagging his tail, but never coming no nearer.
+Mother put down some water, and he lapped a little, but he only sniffed
+at a bone she threw him and didn't touch it.
+
+"It was quite dark by this time, and mother lit a candle and set it on
+the table to see to have tea by. Afterwards she took her knitting and
+sat down by the fire, and I leaned against her, nodding and half asleep.
+The dog lay in the corner farthest from us, between the fireplace and
+the wall; and I'd forgotten altogether about him, when mother looks up
+sudden. 'Bless me,' says she, 'how bright the fire do catch the wall
+to-night. I haven't dropped a spark over there, surely!' And up she gets
+and crosses over to t'other side to where the firelight was dancing and
+flickering on the cottage wall.
+
+"Now, sir, whether it was no more than just the light catching them,
+mind you, I can't say. I only know that as mother come to the corner
+where that dog was a-lying, and he lifted his head and looked at her,
+his eyes were a-shining with a queer lamping sort of light, that seemed
+to make the place bright all round him. But it wasn't till afterwards
+that she thought of it, for at that moment there came a sudden sharp
+knock at the door.
+
+"My eye! how mother jumped; and I see her face turn white. For in that
+lonely out-of-the-way place we never looked for visitors after dark, nor
+in the day time, many of 'em; and the sound of this knock now give her
+quite a turn. Presently there come a faint voice from outside, asking
+for a crust of bread.
+
+"Mother didn't stir for a moment, for the notion of unbarring the door
+went against her. The knock come a second time.
+
+"'For pity's sake--for the sake of the child,' the voice said again,
+pleading like.
+
+"Now, mother was terrible soft-hearted, sir, wherever children were
+concerned, and the mention of a child went straight home to her heart. I
+see her glance at me, and I knowed the thought passing through her mind,
+as after a moment's pause she got up, stepped across the room and
+unbarred the door. On the step outside stood a woman with a baby in her
+arms.
+
+"Her voice had sounded faint-like, but there was nothing in the
+fainting line about her when she had got inside, for she come inside
+quick enough the moment mother had unbarred the door. She looked like a
+gipsy, for her face was dark and swarthy, and the shawl round her head
+hid a'most all but the wild gleam of her eyes; and all the time she kep'
+on rock, rocking that child in her arms until I reckon she must have
+rocked all the crying out of it, for never a word come from its lips.
+She sat down where mother pointed, and took the food she was given, but
+she offered nothing to the child. It was asleep, she said, when mother
+wanted to look at it.
+
+"Yes, she was a gipsy, and on the tramp across the moor she had missed
+her way in the fog; for there was a heavy fog coming up. 'How far was it
+to Farnington? Twelve miles? She'd be thankful to sit and rest by the
+fire a bit, then, if mother would let her.' And without waiting for yes
+or no, she turned round and put the child out of her arms down on the
+settle at her back. Then she swung round again and sat staring with her
+black eyes at the fire. I was sat on my stool opposite, and, child-like,
+I never so much as took my eyes off her, wondering at her gaunt make,
+the big feet in the clumsy men's boots that showed beneath her skirts,
+and the lean powerful hands lying in her lap. Seems she didn't
+altogether like me watching her, for after a bit she turns on me and
+asks:
+
+"'What are you staring at, you brat?'
+
+"'Nothin',' says I.
+
+"'Then if you wants to look at nothin',' says she with a short laugh,
+'you can go and stare at the kiddy there, not at me.' And she jerked her
+head towards the settle, where the baby was a-lying.
+
+"'Ah, poor little thing,' says mother, getting up, 'it don't seem
+natural for it to lie there that quiet. I'll bring it to the fire and
+warm it a drop o' milk.'
+
+"She bent down over the baby and was just about to take it in her arms,
+when she give a scream that startled me off my stool, and stood up, her
+face as white as death. For it was nothing but a shawl or two rolled
+round something stiff and heavy as was lying on the settle, and no child
+at all.
+
+"I was a-looking at mother, and I had no eyes for the woman until I see
+mother's face change and an awful look of fear come over it. And when I
+turned to see what she was staring at with them wild eyes, the woman had
+flung off her shawl and the wrap she wore round her head, and was stood
+up with a horrid, mocking smile on his face. For it was no woman, sir,
+as you'll have guessed, but a man.
+
+"'Well, mistress,' he says, coming forward a pace or two, 'I didn't mean
+to let the cat out of the bag so soon; but what's done's done. There's a
+little trifle of rent-money put by for the agent, as I've taken a fancy
+to; and that's what's brought me here. If you hand it over quietly, so
+much the better for you; if not.... I'm not one to stick at trifles;
+I've come for that money, and have it I will.'
+
+"'I have not got it,' mother said, plucking up what heart she could, and
+speaking through her white and trembling lips.
+
+"'That don't go down with me,' said the fellow with an oath. 'I didn't
+sleep under the lee of Tom Regan's hayrick for nothin' last night, and I
+heard every word that was spoken between him and your Jim. You'd better
+tell me where you've got it stowed, or you'll be sorry for it. You're a
+woman, mind you, and alone.'
+
+"Mother's lips went whiter than ever, but she said never a word. I had
+begun to cry.
+
+"'Hold your row, you snivelling brat,' the fellow said with a curse.
+'Come, mistress, you'd best not try my patience too long.'
+
+"Now, mother was a brave woman, as I've said, and I don't believe, if
+the money had been left in her charge, as she'd have given it up tamely
+and without so much as a word. But of course, as things were, she could
+do no more than say, over and over again, as she hadn't got it. Then the
+brute began to threaten her, with threats that made her blood run cold;
+for she was only a woman, sir, and alone, except for me, a child as
+could do nothing in the way of help. With a last horrid threat on his
+lips the fellow turned towards the settle--there was a pistol hid in the
+clothes of the sham baby we found out afterwards--when he was stopped by
+something as come soft and noiseless out of the corner beyond and got
+right in his way. I see what it was after a minute. Between him and the
+settle where the pistol was lying there was standing that dog.
+
+"The creature had showed neither sight nor sound of itself since the
+woman had come in, and we'd forgotten about it altogether, mother and
+me. There it stood now, though, still as a stone, but all on the watch,
+the lips drawn back from the sharp white teeth, and its eyes fixed, with
+a savage gleam in them, on the fellow's face. I was nothing but a child,
+and no thought of anything beyond had come to me then; but I tell you,
+sir, child as I was, I couldn't help feeling that the grin on the
+creature's face had something more than dog-like in it; and for nights
+to come I couldn't get the thought of it out of my head.
+
+"Our visitor looked a bit took aback when he saw the creature, for most
+of his sort are terrible feared of a dog. But 'twas only for a moment,
+and then he laughed right out.
+
+"'He's an ugly customer, but he won't help you much, mistress,' he said
+with a sneer. 'I've something here as'll settle _him_ fast enough.' With
+that he stretched out his hand towards the bundle on the settle.
+
+"The hand never reached it, sir. You know the choking, worrying snarl a
+dog gives before he springs to grip his enemy by the throat, the growl
+that means a movement--and death! That sound stopped the scoundrel, and
+kept him, unable to stir hand or foot, with the dog in front of him,
+never moving, never uttering a sound beyond that low threatening growl,
+but watching, only watching. He might have been armed with a dozen
+weapons, and it would have been all the same. Those sharp, bared fangs
+would have met in his throat before he could have gripped the pistol
+within a foot of his hand; and he knew it, and the knowledge kept him
+there still as a stone, with the dog never taking its watching, burning
+eyes from his face.
+
+"'I'm done,' he owned at last, when minutes that seemed like hours had
+gone by. 'I'm done this time, mistress, thanks to the dog-fiend you've
+got here. I tell you I'd not have stopped at murder when I come in; but
+that kid of yours could best me now. Make the devil brute take his eyes
+off me, and let me go.'
+
+"All trembling like a leaf, mother got to the door and drew back the
+bar. The fellow crossed the kitchen and slunk out, and the dog went with
+him. It followed him with its nose close at his knee as he crossed the
+threshold, and the two of them went like that, out into the fog and over
+the lonely moorland into the night. We never saw nor heard of the dog
+again.
+
+"There were gipsies in the neighbourhood, crossing the moor out Wharton
+way, and when the story got about folk told us as 'twas known they had
+some strange-looking dogs with them, and said that this one must have
+belonged to the lot. But mother, she never believed in nothin' of the
+sort, and to the day of her death she would have it as the creature had
+been sent to guard her and me from the danger that was to come to us
+that night. She held that it was something more than a dog, sir; and you
+see there was one thing about it uncommon strange. When dad come back
+that next morning, our two pointers, Nip and Juno, followed him into the
+cottage. But the moment they got inside a sort of turn came over them,
+and they rushed out all queer and scared; while as for the water mother
+had set down for the black dog to drink, there was no getting them to
+put their lips to it. Not thirsty, sir? Well, sir, seeing as there
+warn't no water within six mile or so, and they'd come ten miles that
+morning over the moor, you'll excuse me saying you don't know much about
+dogs if you reckon they warn't thirsty!
+
+"Coincidence you say, sir? Well, I dunno the meaning of that--maybe
+it's a word you gentles gives to the things you can't explain. But I've
+told you the story just as it happened, and I'd swear it's true, anyhow.
+If a gentleman like you can't see daylight in it, t'ain't for the likes
+of me to try; but I sticks to it that, say what folks will, the thing
+was uncommon strange.... Not tried the west side, haven't you, sir?
+Bless your heart, Ben, what be you a-thinking of? The birds are as thick
+as blackberries down by the Grey Rock and Deadman's Hollow."
+
+"That's a gruesome name," I said, rising and lifting my gun, while Ben
+coupled up the brace of dogs. I noticed a glance exchanged between
+father and son as the younger man lifted his head.
+
+"Yes, sir," responded the former quietly; "the morning after that night
+I've been telling you of, the body of a man was found down there, and
+that's how the hollow got its name. Mother, she knew him again the
+moment she set eyes on the dead face, for all he'd got quit of the
+woman's clothes; and there warn't no mark nor wound on him, to show how
+he'd come by his death. Oh, yes, sir; I ain't saying as the fog warn't
+thick that night, nor as how it wouldn't have been easy enough for him
+to ha' missed his footing in the dark; though to be sure there were
+folks as would have it 'twarn't _that_ as killed him.... Good-day to
+you, sir, and thank you kindly. Ben here'll see to your having good
+sport."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was vexing to find so much gross superstition still extant in this
+last decade of the nineteenth century, certainly. Yet for all that, and
+though the notion of a spook dog was something too much for the
+materialistic mind to swallow, there is no use denying that, as I stood
+an hour later in Deadman's Hollow, with the recollection of the weird
+story I had just heard fresh in my memory, I was conscious of a cold
+shiver, which all the strength of the August sunshine, bathing the
+moorland in a glow of gold, was quite unable to lessen or to drive
+away.
+
+
+
+
+THE WRECK OF THE _MAY QUEEN_.
+
+BY ALICE F. JACKSON.
+
+
+There was something in the air. Something ominous. A whisper of which we
+heard only the rustle, as it were--nothing of the words; but when one is
+on the bosom of the deep--hundreds of miles from land--in the middle of
+the Pacific Ocean--ominous whispers are, to say the least of it, a
+trifle disconcerting.
+
+"What is it?" whispered Sylvia.
+
+"I don't know," I said.
+
+"Anything wrong with the ship?"
+
+But I could only shrug my shoulders.
+
+Sylvia said, "Let us ask Dr. Atherton."
+
+So we did. But Dr. Atherton only smiled.
+
+"There was something behind that smile of his," said Sylvia,
+suspiciously. "As if we were babies, either of us," she added, severely.
+
+Yes, there was something suspicious in that smile. And Dr. Atherton
+hadn't looked at us full in the face while he talked. Besides, there was
+a sort of lurking pity in his voice; and--yes, I'm sure his lip had
+twitched a little nervously.
+
+"Why should he be nervous if there is nothing the matter with the ship?"
+
+"And why should he look as if he felt sorry for us?"
+
+"Let's ask the captain," I said.
+
+"Just leave the ship in my keeping, young ladies," said the captain,
+when we asked him. "Go back to your fancy-work and your books."
+
+The _May Queen_ was not a regular passenger ship. Sylvia, and I, and
+Dr. Atherton were the only passengers. She was laden with wool--a cargo
+boat; but Sylvia and I were accommodated with such a pretty cabin!
+
+We had left Sydney in the captain's charge. Father wanted us to have a
+year's schooling in England; and we were coming to Devonshire to live
+with Aunt Sabina, and get a little polishing at a finishing school.
+
+Of course we had chummed up with Dr. Atherton, though we had never met
+him before. One's obliged to be friendly with every one on board, you
+know; and then he was the only one there was to be friendly with. He was
+acting as the ship's surgeon for the voyage home. He was going to
+practise in England. He was, perhaps, twenty-five--not more than
+twenty-six, at any rate, and on the strength of that he began to
+constitute himself a sort of second guardian over us.
+
+We didn't object. He was very nice. And, indeed, he made the time pass
+very pleasantly for us.
+
+Sylvia was sixteen, and I was fifteen; and the grey-haired captain was
+the kindest chaperon.
+
+For the first fortnight we had the most delightful weather; and then it
+began to blow a horrid gale. The _May Queen_ pitched frightfully, and
+"took in," as the sailors said, "a deal of water."
+
+For three days the storm raged violently. We thought the ship would
+never weather it. I don't know what we should have done without Dr.
+Atherton. And then quite suddenly the wind died away, and there came a
+heavenly calm.
+
+The sea was like a mill-pond. It was beautiful! Sylvia and I began to
+breathe again, when, all at once, we felt that ominous something in the
+air.
+
+"Thud! thud! thud!" All day long we heard that curious sound--and at
+dead of night too, if we happened to be awake. "Thud! thud! thud!"
+unceasingly.
+
+The sailors, too, forgot their jocular sayings, and seemed too busy now
+to notice us. Some looked flurried, some looked sullen; but all looked
+anxious, we thought. And they were working, working, always working away
+at the bottom of the ship. And always that "thud! thud! thud!"
+
+And then we learned by accident what the matter was.
+
+"Five feet of water in the well!" It was the captain's voice.
+
+And Dr. Atherton's murmured something that we did not catch.
+
+We were in the cabin, and the door was just ajar. They thought we girls
+were up on deck, I suppose. Sylvia flung out her hand and pressed me on
+the arm; and then she put her finger on her lip.
+
+"All hands are at the pumps," the captain said. "Their exertions are
+counteracting the leak. The water in the well is neither more nor less.
+I've just been sounding it again."
+
+"Can't the leak be stopped?" asked Dr. Atherton.
+
+"Yes, if we could find it. We've been creeping about her ribs all the
+better part of the morning, but we cannot discover the leak."
+
+"And the water's still coming in?"
+
+"Still coming in. They're working like galley-slaves to keep it under,
+but we make no headway at all. I greatly fear that some of her seams
+have opened during the gale."
+
+"And that means----"
+
+"That means the water is coming in through numerous apertures," said the
+captain grimly.
+
+"Is the _May Queen_ in danger, captain?" asked Dr. Atherton in a steady
+voice.
+
+There was a pause. We could hear our own hearts beat. And then:
+
+"I would to Heaven that those girls were not on board!"
+
+"But we are!" It was Sylvia's voice. With a bound she had flung open the
+door, and stood confronting the astonished pair. "We are here. And as we
+are here, Captain Maitland, oh! don't, don't keep us in the dark!"
+
+"Good heavens!" ejaculated the doctor.
+
+And the captain said in his severest tones:
+
+"Young lady, you've been eavesdropping, I see. Let me tell you that's a
+thing I won't allow."
+
+"Oh! Captain Maitland, is the ship in danger?" I cried.
+
+But the captain only glared at me. He looked excessively annoyed.
+
+Then Sylvia ran up and put her hand upon his arm.
+
+"We could not help hearing," she said. "If the ship is in danger really,
+it is better for us to know. Please, don't be vexed with us; but we'd
+rather be told the truth. We--we----"
+
+"Are not babies," I put in, with my heart going pit-a-pat.
+
+"Nor cowards," added Sylvia, with a lip that trembled a little.
+
+It made the captain cough.
+
+"The--the _May Queen_ has sprung a leak?" she said.
+
+"You heard me say so, I suppose."
+
+"And the ship is in danger, Captain Maitland?"
+
+"Can you trust me, young lady?" was his answer.
+
+Sylvia put her hand in his.
+
+"You know we trust you," she said.
+
+He caught it in a hearty grasp; and gave me an encouraging smile.
+
+"Thank you for that, my child. The _May Queen's_ got five feet of water
+in her well, because she got damaged in that gale. So far we're managing
+to pump the water out as fast as the water comes in. D'you follow me?"
+
+"Yes," fluttered to her lips.
+
+"So far, so good. Don't worry. Try not to trouble your heads about this
+thing at all. Just say to yourselves, 'The captain's at the helm.' All
+that can be done _is_ being done, young ladies. And," pointing upwards,
+"the other CAPTAIN'S aloft."
+
+He was gone. In a dazed way I heard Dr. Atherton saying something to
+Sylvia. And a few minutes after that he, too, had disappeared. "Gone,"
+Sylvia said in an awe-struck whisper, "to work in his turn at the
+pumps."
+
+No need to wonder now at that unceasing "Thud! thud!" The noise of it
+not only sounded in our ears, it struck us like blows on our hearts.
+
+We crept up on deck. We could breathe there. We could see. Oh! how awful
+was the thought of going down, down--drowning in the cabin below!
+
+Air, and light, and God's sky was above. And we prayed to the CAPTAIN
+aloft.
+
+The sea was so calm that danger, after having weathered that fearful
+gale, seemed almost impossible to us. The blue water reflected the blue
+heaven above; and when the setting sun cast a rosy light over the sky,
+the sea caught the reflection as well.
+
+It was beautiful.
+
+"It doesn't seem so dangerous now, Sylvia," I whispered, "as it felt
+during the gale."
+
+"No," came through her colourless lips.
+
+"There's not a ripple on the sea," I said; "and if they keep on pumping
+the water out, we'll--we'll get to land in time."
+
+"Yes," she said, and held my hand a little tighter. After a while, "I
+wonder if we're very far from land."
+
+"Nine hundred miles, I think I heard Mr. Wheeler say." She shuddered.
+
+Mr. Wheeler was the first mate.
+
+I looked across the wild waste of water, and shuddered too. So calm--so
+endless!
+
+The men were working like galley-slaves down below, pumping turn and
+turn about, watch and watch. We saw the relieved gang come up bathed in
+perspiration. They were labouring for their lives, we knew.
+
+Now and again some sailor, passing by, would say:
+
+"Keep a good heart, little leddies," and look over his shoulder with a
+cheerful smile.
+
+It made us cheer up too.
+
+We heard one say they were pumping one hundred tons of water every hour
+out of the ship. It sounded appalling.
+
+In a little while a light breeze began to blow. "From the south-west,"
+somebody said it was.
+
+And then we heard the captain give an order about "making all sail" in
+the ship.
+
+Every man that could be spared from the pumps set about it directly; and
+soon great sails flew up flapping in the breeze, and the _May Queen_
+went flying before the wind.
+
+By-and-by Dr. Atherton came, and ordered us down to the saloon, and made
+us each drink a glass of wine. And then Mr. Wheeler joined us; and we
+sat down to supper just as we had done many a happy evening before--only
+that the captain didn't come to the table as usual, but had his supper
+carried away to him.
+
+We learned that the captain had altered the ship's course, and "put the
+_May Queen_ right before the wind," and that he was "steering for the
+nearest land."
+
+It comforted us.
+
+"We have gained a little on the leak," the first mate said. "Three
+inches!"
+
+"Only three inches!" we cried.
+
+"Three inches is a great victory," Mr. Wheeler replied. "I think it's
+the turn of the tide."
+
+"Thank God!" muttered Dr. Atherton.
+
+We lay down in our narrow berths still comforted, and slept like tops
+all night. I'm not sure that the doctor hadn't given us something to
+make us sleep when he gave us a drink, as he innocently said, "to settle
+and soothe our nerves."
+
+"Thud! thud! thud!" The ominous sound was in my ears the moment I opened
+my eyes, and all the terror of the preceding day came crowding into my
+mind.
+
+"Sara, are you awake?"
+
+"Yes, Sylvia."
+
+"Did you sleep?"
+
+"Like a top."
+
+"So did I."
+
+Yes, we had slept, and while we slept the sailors had worked all night.
+And all night long, like some poor haunted thing, the _May Queen_ had
+glided on.
+
+"Mr. Wheeler, has the water lessened in the well?"
+
+"Good-morning, Miss Redding," was his reply.
+
+His face was pale. Great beads of perspiration were rolling down his
+cheeks. He began to mop them with a damp handkerchief.
+
+At that moment Dr. Atherton came on the scene. "Good-morning, young
+ladies," he said.
+
+Such a slovenly-looking doctor! And we used to think him such a
+sprucely-got-up man. There was no collar round his neck, and his hair
+hung in damp strings on his forehead. And he had no coat on, not a
+waistcoat either, nor did he look a bit abashed.
+
+"Sleep well?" he said.
+
+Mr. Wheeler seized the opportunity to slink away.
+
+"_You_ haven't slept!" we cried.
+
+He didn't reply. His haggard face, the red rims round his tired eyes
+were answer enough.
+
+"You've been up all night?" said Sylvia calmly.
+
+I burst into a whimpering wail.
+
+"No, don't, Miss Sara," urged the doctor soothingly.
+
+Sylvia said, "Has more water come into the ship?"
+
+"The water has gained on us a trifle," he said reluctantly.
+
+"But Mr. Wheeler said we'd gained three inches yesterday."
+
+"Go back into your cabin," he said. "Some breakfast will be sent to you
+there directly. We--we are not fit to breakfast with ladies this
+morning," he added.
+
+"Oh! not to the cabin. Please let us go on deck."
+
+"The captain's orders were the cabin," he said. "Hush, hush! Don't cry
+any more, Miss Sara," patting my shoulder, "there's a good girl. It
+would worry the captain dreadfully to hear you. His chief anxiety is
+having you on board. You wouldn't make his anxiety greater, would you
+now? See, Miss Sylvia, I rely on you. Take her to the cabin, and eat
+your breakfast there. After breakfast," he added soothingly, "I daresay
+you will be allowed to go on deck."
+
+We went back. We sat huddled together. We held each other's hands.
+Sylvia didn't cry. Her face was white. Her eyes were shining. "Don't,
+Sara," she kept on saying, "crying can do no good."
+
+Breakfast came. Neither of us ate much. How callously we sent the
+greater part of it away! Afterwards we remembered it. At present we
+could think of nothing but the leaking ship.
+
+And "Thud! thud! thud!" It was like the heart of the _May Queen_,
+beating, beating! How long would it take to burst?
+
+After breakfast we were allowed to go on deck. Oh! how the brilliant
+sunshine seemed to mock us there! And such a sea! Blue, beautiful,
+peaceful, smiling! A vast mill-pond. And water, water everywhere!
+
+Sea and sky! Nothing but sea and sky! And not a little, littlest speck
+of Mother Earth!
+
+"Mr. Wheeler, are we nearer land?"
+
+"A little nearer, Miss Sylvia."
+
+"How much nearer?"
+
+"She's run two hundred and fifty miles," he said.
+
+"Two hundred and fifty miles! And yesterday we were nearly a thousand
+miles from land!"
+
+"Yes, Miss Sara."
+
+I could have screamed. It was sheer despair that kept me silent--perhaps
+a little shame. Sylvia stood beside him with her hands clenched tight.
+
+"Isn't there any likelihood of some ship passing by?"
+
+"Every likelihood," he said.
+
+At that moment the relieved gang came up. They were changed. Not the
+brave hopeful men we had seen yesterday. They were disheartened. Indeed,
+we read despair in many faces.
+
+One big burly fellow lighted a pipe. He gave a puff or two. "No use
+pumping this darned ship," he said. "She's doomed."
+
+And as if to corroborate this awful fact a voice sang out:
+
+"Seven feet o' water in the hold!"
+
+This announcement seemed to demoralise the sailors. One burst out
+crying. Another cursed and swore. Others ran in a flurried way about the
+ship. For ten minutes or so all was confusion. And then a stentorian
+voice rose above the din.
+
+"All hands to the boats!" It was the captain's. And immediately every
+man came scrambling from the pumps, and I felt my hand taken in an iron
+grasp.
+
+"We're going to abandon the ship. We're going to take to the boats. Come
+down to your cabin and gather all you value. Be quick about it," said
+the doctor, "there isn't much time to spare. They're going to provision
+the boats before they lower them, so you can pack up all you want."
+
+He spoke roughly. He pushed me along in front of him. I was so
+dumfounded that I could not resent it. Down in the cabin he looked at
+me. His stern eye dared me to faint.
+
+I heard Sylvia say, "Can we take that little box?"
+
+And I heard him answer, "Yes."
+
+He was gone. I saw Sylvia, through a mist, pushing things into the box.
+And the doctor was back again.
+
+A fiery something was in my mouth, and trickling down my throat. I
+tasted brandy.
+
+"That's better," said the doctor, patting my back. "Make haste and help
+your sister. Yes, Miss Sylvia, shove it all in." And then he began to
+drag the blankets from our berths.
+
+"The leddies ready? Leddies fust!" And down tumbled a sailor for the
+trunk.
+
+Up the companion-ladder for the last time, the doctor prodding me in the
+back with his load of blankets. Sylvia, with a white face, carrying a
+little hand-bag. And the captain coming to meet us in the doorway.
+
+"This one first." And I was picked up in his arms as if I'd been a baby.
+"Ready, Wheeler?" And I was lowered into the first mate's arms, and
+placed on a seat in the cutter.
+
+The next thing I knew was that Sylvia was by my side; and that the
+doctor was tucking a blanket about our knees. After that four or five
+sailors jumped into the boat, and the captain shouted in a frantic
+hurry:
+
+"Shove her off!"
+
+The cutter fell astern. The long-boat then came forward, and all the
+rest of the sailors crowded in. The captain was left the last.
+
+"Hurry up, sir!" shouted Mr. Wheeler. But the captain had disappeared.
+He had run down to his cabin for some papers.
+
+"She's full of water!" cried one of the sailors in the long boat. And as
+he spoke the _May Queen stopped dead, and shook_.
+
+With a yell one of the men cut the rope that held the long-boat to the
+ship, and shoved off like lightning from the sinking vessel.
+
+Only in time.
+
+The next moment the _May Queen_ pitched gently forward. Her bows went
+under water.
+
+"Captain!" shrieked the sailors in a deafening chorus.
+
+Then her stern settled down. The sea parted in a great gulf. The waves
+rolled over her upper deck. And with her sails all spread the _May
+Queen_ went down into the abyss.
+
+A hoarse cry burst from every throat; and the boats danced on the
+bubbling, foaming water. The sailors stood up all ready to save him,
+crying to each other that he'd come to the surface soon. But he never
+did.
+
+They rowed all round and round the spot, but not a vestige of the
+captain did we see.
+
+"Sucked under--by Heaven!" cried the first mate in a tone of horror.
+
+And we were adrift on the Pacific.
+
+
+
+
+ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC.
+
+BY ALICE F. JACKSON.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+The captain was drowned, and the _May Queen_ was wrecked, and we were
+adrift on the ocean. Adrift in a cockle-shell of an open boat more than
+six hundred miles from land! No--_no_! It's some horrible nightmare!
+
+For the first few moments everybody sat benumbed, staring awe-struck
+into each other's faces.
+
+Then--"Christ have mercy on his soul!" somebody said.
+
+And, "Amen!" came the answer in a deep whisper.
+
+Then Mr. Wheeler gave some order in a voice that shook, and we rowed
+from the fatal spot.
+
+Sylvia sat with one hand covering her face. Her other arm crept round my
+waist. I was so dazed I could hardly think--too bewildered to grasp what
+had happened.
+
+"Poor child!" said Dr. Atherton.
+
+"Sara, Dr. Atherton is speaking to you ... Sara!"
+
+I raised my head.
+
+"Poor child!" I heard again. "Sit up and drink this," said the doctor's
+voice, and I felt him chafing my hand.
+
+"Miss Sara, won't you try to be brave? Look at Miss Sylvia," he said.
+
+"She be a rare plucked 'un, she be. Cheer up, you poor little 'un!"
+
+"While there is life, there's 'ope, little miss. Thank the Lord, we're
+not all on us drowned."
+
+I burst into tears, I was ashamed that I did; but it was oh! such a
+relief to cry.
+
+When I came to myself they were talking together. I heard in a stupefied
+way.
+
+"No immediate peril, thank God."
+
+"Not in calm weather like this."
+
+"Two chances for life--she must either make land, or be picked up by
+some vessel at sea."
+
+"... Beautifully still it is, Miss Sylvia. Might have been shipwrecked
+in a storm, you know."
+
+It came to my confused senses that they were very good--these men; for
+they, too, were in peril of their lives; yet the chief anxiety of one
+and all was to calm mine and Sylvia's fears.
+
+Another blanket was passed up for us to sit upon. And then they started
+an earnest consultation among themselves.
+
+There were four sailors in our boat. Gilliland--the big, burly fellow
+who had lighted his pipe--and Evans, and Hookway, and Davis. Dr.
+Atherton and the first mate made six; and Sylvia and I made eight.
+
+The long-boat was a good deal bigger than the cutter; and she held
+eighteen to twenty men.
+
+We gathered from their talk that the _May Queen_, after Captain Maitland
+had altered her course, had run two hundred and fifty miles out of what
+they termed "the track of trade"; and that unless we got back to the old
+track again, there was small chance of our being picked up by another
+vessel.
+
+On the other hand, to make for the nearest land, we would have to
+traverse the ocean for some six hundred miles, and Mr. Wheeler, it
+seemed, was hesitating as to which course to take.
+
+The men in the long-boat bawled to the men in the cutter, and the men in
+the cutter shouted their answers back, the upshot of which was that Mr.
+Wheeler decided to get back into the track of trade.
+
+"Make all sail," he shouted to the men in the long-boat, "and keep her
+head nor' east."
+
+And, "Ay, ay, sir," came the answer over the water.
+
+The men in the cutter ran up the sails too, and soon we were sailing
+after the long-boat. The longboat, however, sailed much faster than the
+cutter. Sometimes she lowered her sails on purpose to wait for us.
+
+The weather was perfect. The sea was beautiful. In the middle of the
+Pacific Ocean, and hardly a ripple on the waves!
+
+"We could hold out for weeks in weather like this!" cried the doctor
+cheerfully. And then to Gilliland:
+
+"The boats are well provisioned, you say?"
+
+"A month's provisions on board, sir. That was the captain's orders. Me
+and Hookway had the doing of it."
+
+"And water?" asked the doctor anxiously.
+
+"Plenty of water, and rum likewise," replied the sailor, with an
+affectionate glance at one of the little barrels.
+
+"I see only two small casks here," said the doctor sharply.
+
+"Plenty more on board the long-boat. Ain't there, Hookway?"
+
+"Plenty more, sir. The long-boat can stow away a deal more than the
+cutter. When we've got through this keg of spirit," putting his hand on
+one of the little casks, "and drunk up that there barrel of water, we've
+only got to signal the long-boat, and get another barrel out of her."
+
+"The food is on the long-boat, too, I suppose?"
+
+"Right you are, sir. And here's a lump o' corned beef. And here's a loaf
+o' bread. And likewise a bag o' biscuit for present requirements."
+
+"Humph!" said the doctor, "I'm glad of that. Hand me up that loaf,
+Davis, if you please. Mr. Wheeler, the spirits, of course, are in your
+charge. May I ask you to mix a small mug of rum and water for these
+ladies?"
+
+"Oh! I couldn't drink rum, doctor," objected Sylvia.
+
+"Oh! yes, you can. And you're going to eat this sandwich of corned beef
+and bread. Excuse fingers, Miss Sara," he added, handing me a sandwich
+between his finger and thumb. "Fingers were made before knives and
+forks. And now you're to share this mug of rum and water."
+
+"It's very weak, I assure you," said Mr. Wheeler, smiling. "Drink up
+every drop of it," he added kindly. "It will do you both good."
+
+We thanked him and obeyed. And while we ate our sandwiches the men ate
+biscuit and beef; and then Mr. Wheeler poured them out a small allowance
+of rum.
+
+The cutter sailed smoothly. And the men told yarns. But every eye was on
+the look-out for the smoke of some passing ship.
+
+We saw none. Not a speck on the ocean, save the long-boat ahead. And
+by-and-by the sun set, and a little fog crept up. And the night came on
+as black as pitch and very drear.
+
+Sylvia and I huddled close in the blanket that Dr. Atherton had tied
+about our shoulders; and whispered our prayers together.
+
+"To-morrow will be Sunday, Sylvia," I said.
+
+And she whispered back: "They will pray for those that travel by water
+in the Litany."
+
+
+II.
+
+
+I couldn't sleep. Every time I began to lose consciousness I started up
+in a fright, and saw the _May Queen_ going down into the sea again; and
+fancied I saw the captain struggling in the cabin. It was terrible.
+
+I could hear the men snoring peacefully in the boat. They were all
+asleep except the helmsman.
+
+At midnight he roused up another man to take his place; and after that I
+remembered no more till I started up in the grey dawn with a loud
+"Ahoy!" quivering in my ears.
+
+"Ahoy! A-hoy!"
+
+Everybody was wide awake. Everybody wanted to know what the matter was.
+And everybody was looking at the helmsman who was peering out at sea.
+
+It was Gilliland. He turned a strange, scared face to the others in the
+cutter, and:--"_The long-boat's not in sight!_" said he.
+
+Somebody let out an oath. And every eye stared wildly over the sea. It
+was quite true. Not a speck, not a streak we saw upon the ocean--the
+long-boat had disappeared!
+
+"God in heaven!" ejaculated the first mate. "She must have capsized in
+the night!"
+
+"And if we don't capsize, we'll starve," said the doctor, "_for she had
+all our provisions on board_!"
+
+There was an awful silence for just three minutes. Then the man who had
+sworn before shot out another oath. Hookway began to rave like a madman.
+Evans burst into sobs. Davis began to swear horribly, and cursed
+Gilliland for putting the provisions in the other boat.
+
+It was terrible.
+
+Suddenly Sylvia's voice rose trembling above the babel, quaveringly she
+struck up the refrain of the sailor's hymn:
+
+    _"O hear us when we cry to Thee_
+    _For those in peril on the sea."_
+
+"God bless you, miss!" cried Gilliland. And taking up the tune, he
+dashed into the first verse:
+
+    _"Eternal Father, strong to save,_
+    _Whose arm hath bound the restless wave._
+    _Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep_
+    _Its own appointed limits keep:"_
+
+The doctor and the first mate joined in the refrain. And Hookway ceased
+to rave. They sang the hymn right through. The last verse was sung by
+every one. The "_Amen_" went up like a prayer at the end. And the
+sailors, with their caps in their hands, some of them with tears in
+their eyes, looked gratefully at Sylvia and murmured, "Thank you, miss."
+
+Oh! the days that followed, and the long, hungry nights! Even now I
+dream of them, and start up trembling in my sleep.
+
+Sylvia and I have very tender hearts when we hear of the starving poor.
+
+To be hungry--oh! it is terrible. But to be thirsty too! And to feel
+that one is dying of thirst--and water everywhere!
+
+For those first dreadful days Mr. Wheeler dealt out half a biscuit to
+each--half a biscuit with a morsel of beef that had to be breakfast, and
+dinner, and tea! And just a little half mug of water tinctured with a
+drop of rum!
+
+And on that we lived, eight people in the cutter, for something like
+eleven days! Eleven days in a scorching sun! Eleven calm, horrible
+nights!
+
+We wanted a breeze. And no breeze came, though we prayed for it night
+and day. The remorseless ocean was like a sheet of glass. The sun shone
+fiercely in the heavens. It made the sides of the cutter so hot that it
+hurt our poor hands to touch it.
+
+And all those days no sign of a sail! Not a vestige of a passing ship!
+
+Evans and Davis grumbled and swore. And so did Hookway sometimes.
+Gilliland was the most patient of the sailors; and tried to cheer up
+every one else with stories of other people's escapes.
+
+On the _May Queen_ Sylvia and I had thought Mr. Wheeler rather a
+commonplace sort of man. We knew him for a hero in the cutter. Often he
+used to break off pieces of his biscuit, I know, to add to Sylvia's and
+mine.
+
+"Friends," he said on the eleventh day, "the biscuit is all gone." His
+face was ghastly. His eyes were hollow. His lips were cracked and sore.
+
+"And the water?" asked the doctor faintly.
+
+"Barely a teaspoon apiece."
+
+"Keep it for the women then," suggested Dr. Atherton.
+
+"No!" shouted Davis with an oath.
+
+And, "We're all in the same boat," muttered Evans.
+
+Gilliland lifted his bloodshot eyes. "Hold your jaw!" he said.
+
+Hookway groaned feebly.
+
+They looked more like wild beasts than men, with their ghastly faces,
+and their glaring eyes--especially Davis.
+
+He looked at me desperately. He thought I was going to have all the
+water.
+
+"I won't take more than my share, Mr. Wheeler," I said. And I looked at
+Sylvia. She was lying in the stern muttering feebly to herself. She
+didn't hear.
+
+"God bless you, miss!" said Davis, and burst into an agony of sobs.
+
+The last spoonful of water was handed round, the doctor forcing Sylvia's
+portion into her mouth.
+
+And we wafted on, only just moving along, for there was no breeze. And
+the sun beat on us. And the sea glared. And Davis cursed. And Hookway
+writhed and moaned.
+
+"Take down the sails," said the first mate. "They are useless without
+any wind. Rig them up as an awning instead."
+
+The men obeyed.
+
+Then the doctor seized a vessel, and filling it with sea-water poured it
+over Sylvia as she lay, soaking her, clothes and all.
+
+"Oh, doctor!" I expostulated, wonderingly.
+
+"I'm going to drench you too, Miss Sara. It will relieve the thirst," he
+said.
+
+Sylvia opened her eyes. "Oh! it's bliss!" she said.
+
+Dr. Atherton then poured some salt water over me, and then over Mr.
+Wheeler and himself, and told the sailors to drench themselves as well.
+
+It _was_ a little relief--only a very little; and the heat gradually
+dried us up again.
+
+"Here, give me the baler!" cried Davis in a little while, and he caught
+it out of Gilliland's hand. "D'ye think I'm going to die o' thirst with
+all this water about?" And dipping it over the side of the cutter, he
+lifted it to his mouth.
+
+"Stop him!" shouted the doctor in a frenzy. "The salt water'll make him
+mad!"
+
+And Gilliland, with a desperate thrust, tipped it over his clothes
+instead.
+
+Davis howled. He tried to fight; but Gilliland was too strong for him,
+and soon he was huddled up in the fore part of the boat, cursing and
+swearing dreadfully.
+
+After a time he quieted down, and then he became so queer.
+
+"Roast beef!" he murmured, smacking his lips. "An' taters! An' cabbage!
+An' gravy! An' Yorkshire pudden'! My eye! It's prime! And so's the beer,
+my hearties!"
+
+He smiled. The anguish died out of his face. He thought he was eating it
+all. And then he began to finish off his dinner with apple pie.
+
+"Stow your gab!" snarled Evans. "Wot a fool he is!"
+
+And, indeed, it was maddening to hear him.
+
+An hour later he struggled into a sitting posture and turned a rapturous
+face upon the sea. "Water!" he shouted. "Water! Water!" And before any
+of the sailors could raise a hand to stop him he had rolled over the
+side of the boat.
+
+The first mate shouted. The men, feeble though they were, sprang to do
+his bidding. They were not in time. With a gurgling cry Davis was jerked
+under the water suddenly. Next moment the water bubbled, and before it
+grew calm again the surface was stained with blood.
+
+"A shark's got him!" shrieked Hookway. And as he cried the great black
+fin of some awful thing came gliding after the cutter.
+
+"He's had _his_ dinner," said Gilliland grimly; "and he's waiting for
+his supper now!"
+
+
+III.
+
+
+Oh! that terrible night, with the full moon shining down upon the quiet
+water! So still! So calm! Not a ripple on the wave! And that awful black
+something silently following us!
+
+Sylvia lay with her head upon the doctor's knee--one poor thin arm, half
+bared, across my lap. And so the morning found us.
+
+There was something the matter with Evans--something desperate. He was
+beginning to look like Davis--only worse. Something horrible in his
+ghastly face. It was wolfish. And his eyes--they were not like human
+eyes at all--they were the eyes of some fierce, wild beast. And they
+were fastened with a wolfish glare on Sylvia's half-bared arm. _He
+wanted to eat it!_
+
+Stealthily he had got his clasp knife out. And stealthily he was
+crouching as if to make a spring. And I couldn't speak!
+
+My tongue, as the Bible expresses it, clave to the roof of my mouth. I
+was powerless to make a sound. And none of the others happened to be
+looking at him.
+
+I put my hand on Mr. Wheeler's knee and gave him a feeble push. I
+pointed dumbly at Evans.
+
+"Put down that knife!" cried Mr. Wheeler in a voice of command. "Evans!"
+
+With a cry so hideous--I can hear it now--the man lunged forward. Mr.
+Wheeler tried to seize the knife; but Evans suddenly plunged it into his
+shoulder; and the first mate fell with a groan.
+
+Then there was an awful struggle.
+
+Gilliland and Hookway fighting with Evans. And the doctor trying to
+protect Sylvia and me; and dragging the first mate away from the
+scuffling feet. And I praying out loud in my agony that death might come
+to our relief.
+
+He was down at last. Lying in the bottom of the boat, with Gilliland
+sitting astride him, and Hookway getting a rope to tie him up! The
+doctor leaning over Mr. Wheeler and trying to staunch the blood, and the
+first mate fainting away!
+
+And then--Oh! heavens! with a cry--Gilliland sprang to his feet,
+shouting! gesticulating! waving his cap! Had he, too, now, suddenly gone
+mad?
+
+"Ship ahoy! ahoy!" he shrieked, and we followed his pointing hand.
+
+And there, on the bosom of the endless sea, we saw a ship becalmed.
+
+I suppose I swooned.
+
+When I recovered my senses, the cutter was creeping under her lee, and
+the crew were throwing us a rope.
+
+"The women first," said somebody in a cheerful voice. "And after them
+send up the wounded man."
+
+And soon kind, pitying faces were bending over us. And very tender hands
+were feeding Sylvia and me.
+
+"They've had a pooty consid'able squeak, I guess," said the cheerful
+voice.
+
+And somebody answered, "That's so."
+
+We had been picked up by an American schooner.
+
+
+
+
+A STRANGE VISITOR.
+
+BY MAUD HEIGHINGTON.
+
+
+The Priory was a fine, rambling old house, which had recently come into
+Jack Cheriton's possession through the death of a parsimonious relative.
+
+Part of the building only had been kept in repair, while the remainder
+had fallen into decay, and was, in fact, only a picturesque ruin.
+
+The Cheritons' first visit to their newly acquired property was a sort
+of reconnoitre visit. They had come from Town for a month's holiday,
+bringing with them Thatcher--little Mollie's nurse--as general factotum.
+
+They had barely been in the house an hour when a telegram summoned
+Thatcher to her mother's deathbed, and a day or two later urgent
+business recalled Jack to Town.
+
+"I'll just call at the Lodge and get Mrs. Somers to come up as early as
+she can this morning, and stay the night with you, so you will not be
+alone long," he called as he hurried off.
+
+His wife and Mollie watched him out of sight, and then returned to the
+breakfast-room--the little one amusing herself with her doll, while her
+mother put the breakfast things together.
+
+Millicent Cheriton was no coward, but an undefinable sense of uneasiness
+was stealing over her. The Priory was fully half an hour's walk from the
+Lodge, which was the nearest house. Still further off, in the opposite
+direction, stood a large building, the nature of which they had not yet
+discovered.
+
+Jack had never left her even for one night since their marriage--and
+now she had not even Thatcher left to bear her company.
+
+"Mrs. Somers will soon be here," she said in a comforting tone to
+Mollie, who, however, was too intent upon her doll to notice, and
+certainly did not share her mother's uneasiness.
+
+Meanwhile, Jack had reached the Lodge and made his request to Somers,
+the gamekeeper.
+
+"I'm main sorry, sir, but the missus thought as you would want her at
+eleven--as usual, so she started off early to get her marketing done
+first. I'll be sure and tell her to take her things up for the night as
+soon as she gets home."
+
+"Ten o'clock! No Mrs. Somers yet!"
+
+Mrs. Cheriton picked up her little daughter and carried her upstairs.
+
+"We'll make the beds, Mollie, you and I," she said, tossing the little
+maid into the middle of the shaken-up feather bed.
+
+This was fine fun, and Mollie begged for a repetition of it.
+
+"Hark! That must be Mrs. Somers," as a footstep sounded on the gravel
+path.
+
+"That's right, Mrs. Somers, I am glad you have come," called Millicent,
+but as she heard no reply, she thought she had been mistaken, and
+finished making the bed, then tying a sun-bonnet over Mollie's golden
+curls, took her downstairs, intending to take her into the garden to
+play.
+
+What was it that came over Millicent as she reached the hall? Again that
+strange uneasiness, and a feeling that some third person was near her.
+She grasped Mollie's hand more firmly, with an impatient exclamation to
+herself, for what she thought was silly nervousness, and walked into the
+dining-room.
+
+There, in the large armchair, lately occupied by her husband, sat a
+tall, gentlemanly looking man.
+
+He had already removed his hat, and was about to unlock a brown leather
+bag, which he held on his knee. He rose and bowed as Mrs. Cheriton
+entered the room.
+
+"I must apologise for intruding upon you, madam, but I do so in the
+cause of science, so I am sure you will pardon me."
+
+The words were fair enough, but something in the manner made Millicent's
+heart seem to stand still. Something also told her that she must not
+show her fear.
+
+"May I know to whom I am speaking?" she said, "and in what branch of
+science you take a special interest?"
+
+"Certainly, madam. My name is Wharton. I am a surgeon, and am greatly
+interested in vivisection."
+
+"Indeed!" said Millicent, summoning all her presence of mind, for as he
+spoke his manner grew more excitable, and he began to open his bag.
+
+"I called here," he said, "to make known a new discovery, which,
+however, I should like to demonstrate," and he fixed his restless eye on
+little Mollie, who was clinging shyly to her mother's gown.
+
+"I am sure it is very kind of you to take an interest in us--but it is
+so early, perhaps you have not breakfasted? May I get you some
+breakfast?"
+
+Would Mrs. Somers never come? and if she did, what could she do? for by
+this time Millicent had no doubt that she was talking to a madman.
+
+"Thank you, I do not need any," replied her visitor, as he began to take
+from his bag all kinds of terrible looking surgical instruments, and
+laid them on the table.
+
+In spite of the terror within her, Millicent tried to turn his attention
+from his bag, speaking of all kinds of general subjects as fast as they
+came to her mind, but though he answered her politely, it was with
+evident irritation, and he seemed to get more excitable every minute.
+
+"This will never do," she thought, "I must humour him," and with sinking
+heart she ventured on her next question.
+
+"What is this wonderful discovery, Mr. Wharton? if I may ask."
+
+"Certainly, madam. It is a permanent cure for deafness."
+
+Millicent began to breathe more freely as the thought passed through her
+mind "then it can't affect Mollie," for she forgot for a moment that
+her guest was not a sane man. Again his eye rested on Mollie, and he
+rose from his chair.
+
+"The cure is a certain one," he said, "the right ear must be amputated,
+and the passages thoroughly scraped, but I will show you," and he took a
+step towards Mollie.
+
+Millicent's face blanched.
+
+"But Mollie is not deaf," she said; "it will hardly do to operate on
+her."
+
+"It will prevent her ever becoming so, madam, and prevention is better
+than cure," and he stepped back to the table to select an instrument.
+
+The mother's presence of mind did not desert her--though her legs
+trembled so violently that she feared her visitor would see her terror.
+
+"It would be a very good thing to feel sure of that," she said. "You
+will want a firm table, of course, and good light. You might be
+interrupted here. I will show you a better room for the operation."
+
+"Thank you, madam, and I shall require plenty of hot water and towels."
+
+"Certainly," said Millicent, and leading him to the hall, she directed
+him to a room which had at one time been fitted as a laundry, and in
+which was an ironing bench.
+
+With sinking heart, she followed him to the top of the house--pointing
+the way through two attics into a third.
+
+"I will just leave you to arrange your things while I get hot water and
+towels, and put on Mollie's nightdress," she said, and closing the door,
+turned the key. It grated noisily, but the visitor was too much occupied
+to notice it, and rushing through the other rooms, Millicent locked both
+doors, and fled downstairs.
+
+Snatching her little one in her arms, she hurried through the
+garden--pausing at the gate to shift Mollie from her arms on to her
+back.
+
+She had barely left the gate when a horrible yell of baffled rage rent
+the air, making her turn and glance up at the window of the attic.
+
+The maniac had just discovered that the door was locked, and rushing to
+the window caught sight of his hostess and desired patient fleeing from
+the house.
+
+One glance showed Millicent that he was about to get out of the window,
+but whether he intended to clamber down by the ivy, or creep in at the
+next attic, she did not stop to ascertain; only praying that she might
+have strength to gain a place of safety she sped on, staggering under
+the weight of her little one, who clung to her neck in wonder.
+
+On and on, still with the wild yells of rage ringing in her ears, until
+she had put three fields between herself and the house, when she stopped
+for breath in a shady lane.
+
+Hark! Surely it was the sound of wheels coming towards her. "Help! oh,
+help!" she shouted. "Help! help! help!"
+
+In another moment a brougham, drawn by two horses, appeared, coming
+slowly up the hill towards her.
+
+The coachman at a word from his master drew up, and Millicent, now
+nearly fainting from terror and exhaustion, was helped into the
+carriage.
+
+Giving directions to the coachman to drive home as quickly as possible,
+Dr. Shielding, for it was the medical superintendent of the Lunatic
+Asylum, the long building already referred to, drew from her between
+sobs and gasps the story of her fright.
+
+At length they drew up before the doctor's house, in the grounds of the
+asylum, and with a hasty word of introduction, Dr. Shielding left
+Millicent and Mollie with his wife and daughter.
+
+Summoning two burly-looking keepers, he stepped into his brougham again.
+
+"To the Priory," he said, and then related the story to the men,
+describing the position of the attic as told him by Millicent, adding
+that he had just returned from a distant village, where he had been
+called for consultation about a case of rapidly developed homicidal
+mania of a local medical man, but the patient had eluded his caretaker,
+the previous day, and could not be found.
+
+"I have no doubt it is the same man," he said, "and there he is!" he
+added, as they stopped before the Priory gate, to find the strange
+visitor was trying to descend from the window by the ivy.
+
+There he clung, bag in hand, still five-and-twenty feet from the ground.
+When hearing their voices, he turned to look at them, and in so doing
+lost his hold, falling heavily to the ground.
+
+They hastened to the spot, just in time to see a spasmodic quiver of the
+limbs as he drew his last breath. He had struck his head violently
+against a huge stone and broken his neck.
+
+The body was removed to the mortuary of the asylum, with all speed, and
+the relatives of the poor man telegraphed for, and when Dr. Shielding
+returned home he found that his wife had insisted upon keeping Mollie
+and Millicent as their guests until Jack's return, to which arrangement
+he heartily assented.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Jack's face blanched as he read a paragraph describing the adventure in
+his morning paper the following day, and when his letters were brought
+in, he hastily broke the seal of one in his wife's handwriting, and read
+the story in her own words, finishing with, "Oh, Jack, dear, I never,
+never can go back there again; do come and fetch us home."
+
+They never did return to the Priory, for on his way to the station, Jack
+put it into the hands of an agent for sale, and when he reached
+Beechcroft, he begged Mrs. Somers to go and pack up all their personal
+belongings and send them back to Town.
+
+It was with feelings of deep thankfulness that he clasped his wife and
+little one in his arms once more, inwardly vowing that come what might,
+he would never again leave them without protection, even for an hour.
+
+
+
+
+THE THIRD PERSON SINGULAR.
+
+BY LUCY HARDY.
+
+
+"You remember the old coaching days, granny?"
+
+"Indeed I do," replied the old lady, with a smile, "for one of the
+strangest adventures of my life befell me on my first stage-coach
+journey. Yes, you girls shall hear the story; I am getting into my
+'anecdotage,' as Horace Walpole calls it," and granny laughed with the
+secret consciousness that her "anecdotes" were always sure of an
+appreciative audience.
+
+"People did not run about hither and thither in my young days as you
+girls do now," went on the old lady, "and it was quite an event to take
+a coach journey. In fact, when I started on my first one, I was nearly
+twenty years old; and my father and mother had then debated a good while
+as to whether I could be permitted to travel alone by the stage. My
+father was a country parson, as you know, and we lived in a very remote
+Yorkshire village. But an aunt, who was rich and childless, had lately
+taken up her residence at York, and had written so urgently to beg that
+I might be allowed to spend the winter with her, and thus cheer her
+loneliness, that it was decided that I must accept the invitation. It
+was the custom then for many of the local country gentry to visit the
+great provincial towns for their 'seasons' instead of undertaking the
+long journey to the metropolis. York, and many another country town, is
+still full of the fine old 'town houses' of the local gentry, who now go
+to London to 'bring out' their young daughters; but who, in the former
+days, were content with the gaieties offered by their own provincial
+capital. Very lively and pleasant were the 'seasons' of the country
+towns in my youth; and I think there was more real hospitality and
+sociability found among the country neighbours than one meets with in
+London society nowadays. I, of course, was delighted at the prospect of
+exchanging the dull life of our little village for the gaieties of York;
+but when it actually came to saying good-bye to my parents, from whom I
+had never yet been separated, I was half inclined to wish that Aunt
+Maria's invitation had been refused. Farmer Gray, who was to drive me to
+the neighbouring town, where I should join the coach, was very kind; and
+pretended not to see how I was crying under my veil. We lumbered along
+the narrow lanes and at length reached the little market town where I
+was deposited at the 'Blue Boar' to have some tea and await the arrival
+of the mail. I had often watched the coach dash up, and off again, when
+visiting the town with my father; but it seemed like a dream that I,
+Dolly Harcourt, was now actually to be a passenger in the conveyance.
+The dusk of a winter's evening was gathering as the mail came in sight,
+its red lamps gleaming through the mist. Ostlers prided themselves upon
+the celerity with which the change of horses was effected, and
+passengers were expected to be equally quick; I was bustled inside (my
+place had been taken days previously) before I had time to think twice.
+Fortunately, as I thought, remembering the long night journey which lay
+before me, I found the interior of the coach empty, several passengers
+having just alighted; but, as I settled myself in one corner, two
+figures hurried up, a short man, and a woman in a long cloak and
+poke-bonnet, with a thick veil over her face.
+
+"'Just in time,' cried the man. 'Yes, I've booked two places, Mr. Jones
+and Miss Jenny,' and the pair stumbled in just as the impatient horses
+started.
+
+"'Miss Jenny.' Well, I was glad that I was not to have a long night
+journey alone with a strange man. I glanced at the cloaked and veiled
+figure which sank awkwardly into the opposite corner of the vehicle, and
+then leaned forward to remove some of my little packages from the seat;
+in so doing I brushed against her bonnet.
+
+"'I beg your pardon, madam,' I said politely; 'I was removing these
+parcels, fearing they might incommode you.'
+
+"'All right, all right, miss,' said the man, a red-faced, vulgar-looking
+personage; 'don't you trouble about Jenny, she'll do very well;' and he
+proceeded to settle his companion in the corner rather unceremoniously.
+
+"'Is she his sister or his wife, I wonder,' I thought; 'he does not seem
+particularly courteous to her;' and I took a dislike to my
+fellow-passenger on the spot. He, however, was happily indifferent to my
+good or evil opinion; pulling a cap from his pocket, he exchanged his
+hat for it, settled himself comfortably by his companion's side, and, in
+a few moments, was sound asleep, as his snores proclaimed. I could not
+follow his example. I felt terribly lonely, and not a little nervous. As
+we sped along at what appeared to my inexperience such a break-neck rate
+(ten miles an hour seemed so _then_, before railways whirled you along
+like lightning), I began to recall all the dismal stories of coach
+accidents, and of highwaymen, which I had read or heard of during my
+quiet village existence. Suppose, on this very moor which we were now
+crossing, a highwayman rode up and popped a pistol in at the window. I
+myself had not much to lose, though I should have been extremely
+reluctant to part with the new silk purse which my mother had netted for
+me, and in which she and father had each placed a guinea--coins not too
+plentiful in our country vicarage in those days. And suppose the
+highwayman was not satisfied with mere robbery, but should oblige me to
+alight and dance a minuet with him on the heath, as did Claud Duval;
+suppose--here my nervous fears took a fresh turn, for the cloaked lady
+opposite began to move restlessly, and the man, half waking, gave her a
+brisk nudge with his elbow and cried sharply,--
+
+"'Now, then, keep quiet, I say.'
+
+"This was a strange manner in which to address a lady. Could this man be
+sober, I thought, and a shiver ran through me at the idea of being
+doomed to spend so many hours in company with a possibly intoxicated,
+and certainly surly man. How rudely he addressed his companion, how
+little he seemed to care for her comfort! As I looked more carefully at
+the pair (the rising moon now giving me sufficient light to do this) I
+noted that the man's hand was slipped under the woman's cloak, and that
+he was apparently holding her down in her seat by her wrist. A fresh
+terror now assailed me--was I travelling with a lunatic and her keeper?
+I vainly tried to obtain a glimpse of the woman's countenance, so
+shrouded by her poke-bonnet and thick veil.
+
+"The man was speedily snoring again, and I sat with my eyes fixed on the
+cloaked figure, wondering--speculating. Poor thing, was she indeed a
+lunatic travelling in charge of this rough attendant? Pity filled my
+heart as I thought of this afflicted creature, possibly torn from home
+and friends and sent away with a surly guardian; who, I now felt _sure_,
+was not too sober. Was the woman old or young, of humble rank or a lady?
+I began to weave a dozen romantic stories in my head about my
+fellow-passengers, quite forgetting all my recent fears about the
+'knights of the road.' So sorry did I feel for the woman that I leant
+across and addressed some trivial, polite remark to her, but received no
+reply. I gently touched her cloak to draw her attention, but the lady's
+temper seemed as testy as that of her companion; she abruptly twisted
+away from my touch with some inarticulate, but evidently angry
+exclamation, which sounded almost like a growl. I shrank back abashed
+into my corner and attempted no more civilities. Would the coach never
+reach York and I be freed from the presence of these mysterious
+fellow-passengers? I was but a timid little country lass, and this was
+my first flight from home. It was certainly not a pleasant idea to
+believe oneself shut up for several hours with a half-tipsy man and a
+lunatic; as I now firmly believed the woman to be. I sat very still,
+fearing to annoy her by any chance movement, but my addressing her had
+evidently disturbed her, for she began to move restlessly, and to make a
+kind of muttering to herself. I gradually edged away towards the other
+end of the seat, so as to leave as much space between myself and the
+lady as possible, and in so doing let my shawl fall to the floor of the
+coach. I stooped to pick it up, and there beheld, protruding from my
+fellow-passenger's cloak, _her foot_. Oh horrors! I saw no woman's
+dainty shoe--but a hairy paw, with long nails--was it _cloven_?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The frantic shriek I gave stopped the coach, and the guard and the
+outside passengers were round the door in a moment. For the first time
+in my life I had fainted--so missed the first excited turmoil--but soon
+revived to find myself lying on the moor, the centre of a kindly group
+of fellow-travellers, who were proffering essences, and brandy, and all
+other approved restoratives; while in the background, like distant
+thunder, were heard the adjurations of the guard and the coachman, who
+were swearing like troopers at the other--or rather at the _male_,
+inside passenger. Struggling into a sitting position, I beheld this man,
+sobered now by the shock of my alarm, and by the vials of wrath which
+were being emptied upon him, standing in a submissive attitude, while
+beside him, her cloak thrown back and her poke-bonnet thrust on one
+side, was the mysterious 'lady'--now revealed in her true character as a
+_performing bear_. It seemed that a showman, desirous of conveying this
+animal (which he described as 'quiet as an hangel') with the least
+trouble and expense to himself, bethought him of the expedient of
+booking places in the coach for himself and the bear, which bore the
+name of 'Miss Jenny'; trusting to her wraps and to the darkness to
+disguise the creature sufficiently. I will not repeat the language of
+the guard and coachman on discovering the trick played; but after
+direful threats as to what the showman might 'expect' as the result of
+his device, matters were amicably arranged. The owner of the bear made
+most abject apologies all round (I fancy giving more than _civil words_
+to the coach officials), I interceded for him, and the mail set off at
+double speed to make up for lost time. Only, with my knowledge of 'Miss
+Jenny's' real identity, I absolutely declined to occupy the interior of
+the coach again despite the showman's assertions of his pet's
+harmlessness; and the old coachman sympathising with me, I was helped up
+to a place by his side on the box, and carefully wrapped up in a huge
+military cloak by a young gentleman who occupied the next seat, and who
+was, as he told me, an officer rejoining his regiment at York. The
+latter part of my journey was far pleasanter than the beginning; the
+coachman was full of amusing anecdotes, and the young officer made
+himself most agreeable. It transpired, in course of conversation, that
+my fellow-traveller was slightly acquainted with Aunt Maria; and this
+acquaintanceship induced him to request that he might be permitted to
+escort me to her house and see me safe after my disagreeable adventure.
+I had no objection to his accompanying myself and the staid maidservant
+whom I found waiting for me at the inn when the coach stopped at York;
+and Aunt Maria politely insisted on the young man's remaining to partake
+of the early breakfast she had prepared to greet my arrival."
+
+"Well, your fright did not end so badly after all, granny," remarked one
+of her listeners.
+
+"Not at all badly," replied the old lady with a quiet smile; "but for my
+fright I should never have made the acquaintance of that young officer."
+
+"And the officer was----"
+
+"He was _Captain_ Marten then, my dears--he became _General_ Marten
+afterwards--and was _your grandfather_."
+
+
+
+
+"HOW JACK MINDED THE BABY."
+
+BY DOROTHY PINHO.
+
+
+The _Etruria_ was on its way to New York. The voyage had been, so far,
+without accidents, or even incidents; the weather had been lovely; the
+sea, a magnificent stretch of blue, with a few miniature wavelets
+dancing in the sunlight.
+
+Amongst the passengers of the first-class saloon everybody noticed a
+slight girlish figure, always very simply attired; in spite of all her
+efforts to remain unnoticed, she seemed to attract attention by her
+great beauty. People whispered to each other, "Who is she?" All they
+knew was that her name was Mrs. Arthur West, and that she was going out
+to New York with her two babies to join her husband.
+
+Every morning she was on deck, or sometimes, if the sun was too fierce,
+in the saloon, and she made a charming picture reclining in her
+deck-chair, with baby Lily lying on her lap, and little Jack playing at
+her feet. Baby was only three or four months old; hardly anything more
+than a dainty heap of snowy silk and lace to anybody but her mother,
+who, of course, thought that nothing on earth could be as clever as the
+way she crowed and kicked out her absurd pink morsels of toes.
+
+Master Jack was quite an important personage; he was nearly four years
+old and very proud of the fact that this was his second voyage, while
+Lily had never been on a ship before, and, as he contemptuously
+remarked, "didn't even know who dada was." He was a quaint,
+old-fashioned little soul, and though he rather looked down upon his
+little sister from the height of his dignity and his first
+knickerbockers, he would often look after her for his mother and pat her
+off to sleep quite cleverly.
+
+We must not forget to mention "Rover," a lovely retriever; he was quite
+of the family, fairly worshipped by his little master, and the pet of
+the whole ship. He looked upon baby Lily as his own special property,
+and no stranger dare approach if he were guarding her.
+
+On the afternoon my story opens baby Lily had been very cross and
+fretful; the intense heat evidently did not agree with her. Poor little
+Mrs. West was quite worn out with walking up and down with her trying to
+lull her off to sleep. Jack was lying flat on the floor, engrossed in
+the beauties of a large picture-book; two or three times he raised his
+curly head and shook it gravely. Then he said, "Isn't she a naughty
+baby, mummie?"
+
+"Yes, dear," answered his mother, "and I'm afraid that if she doesn't
+soon get good, we shall have to put her right through the porthole. We
+don't want to take a naughty baby-girl to daddy, do we?"
+
+"No, mummie," answered Jack very earnestly, and he returned once more to
+his pictures.
+
+"There, she has gone off," whispered Mrs. West, after a few moments.
+"Now, Jackie, I am going to put her down, and you must look after her
+while I go and see if the stewardess has boiled the milk for the night.
+Play very quietly, like a good little boy, because I don't think she is
+very sound asleep." And, with a parting kiss on his little uplifted
+face, she slipped away.
+
+The stewardess was nowhere to be found; so Mrs. West boiled the milk
+herself, as she had often done before, and after about ten minutes,
+returned to her cabin.
+
+Little Jack was in a corner, busy with a drawing-slate; he turned round
+as his mother came in. The berth where she had put the baby down was
+empty.
+
+"Was baby naughty? Has the stewardess taken her?" she asked.
+
+"No, mummie; baby woke up d'rectly you went, an' she was so dreff'ly
+naughty--she just _wouldn't_ go to sleep again; so I thought I'd better
+punish her, an' I put her, just this minute, through the porthole, like
+you said; but I dessay she'll be good now, and p'raps you'd
+better----but what's the matter, mummie? Are you going to be seasick?"
+for his mother had turned deathly white, and was holding on to the wall
+for support.
+
+"My baby, my little one!" she gasped; then, pulling herself together
+with a sudden effort, she rushed towards the stairs; little Jack,
+bewildered, but suddenly overcome by a strange feeling of awe, following
+in the rear. As she reached the deck, she became aware that the liner
+had stopped; there was a great commotion among the passengers; she heard
+some one say, "Good dog! brave fellow!" and Rover, pushing his way
+between the excited people, brought to her feet a dripping, wailing
+bundle, which she strained to her heart, and fainted away.
+
+Need I narrate what had happened? When little Jack had "put naughty baby
+through the porthole," Rover was on deck with his two front paws up on
+the side of the vessel, watching intently some sea-gulls dipping in the
+waves. He suddenly saw the little white bundle touch the water; some
+marvellous instinct told him it was his little charge, and he gave a
+sudden leap over the side. A sailor of the crew saw him disappear, and
+gave the alarm: "Stop the ship! man overboard!"
+
+A boat was lowered, and in a few seconds Rover was on deck again,
+holding baby Lily fast between his jaws.
+
+Mrs. West never left her children alone after that; and when, a few days
+later, on the quay at New York, she was clasped in her husband's arms,
+she told him, between her sobs, how near he had been to never seeing his
+little daughter.
+
+
+
+
+MY GRANDMOTHER'S ADVENTURE.
+
+_A STORY FOUNDED ON FACT._
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+My grandmother was one of the right sort. She was a fine old lady with
+all her faculties about her at eighty-six, and with a memory that could
+recall the stirring incidents of the earlier part of the century with a
+vividness which made them live again in our eager eyes and ears. She was
+born with the century and was nearly fifteen years old when Napoleon
+escaped from Elba, and the exciting circumstances that followed,
+occurring as they did at the most impressionable period of her life,
+became indelibly fixed upon her mind. She had relatives and friends who
+had distinguished themselves in the Peninsula war, in memory of one of
+whom, who fell in the last grand charge at Waterloo, she always wore a
+mourning ring.
+
+But it was not at Waterloo that my grandmother met with the adventure
+which it is now my business to chronicle. It was a real genuine
+adventure, however, and it befell her a year or so after the final fall
+of Napoleon, and in a quiet, secluded spot in the county of Wiltshire,
+England, not far from Salisbury Plain; but as I am quite sure I cannot
+improve upon the dear old lady's oft-repeated version of the story, I
+will try and tell it as it fell from those dear, worn lips now for ever
+silent in the grave.
+
+"I was in my sixteenth year when it was decided that, all fear of
+foreign invasion being over, I should be sent to London to complete my
+education and to receive those finishing touches in manners and
+deportment 'which a metropolis of wealth and fashion alone can give.'
+
+"Never having left home before, I looked forward to my journey with some
+feeling of excitement and not a little of foreboding and dread. I could
+not quite make up my mind whether I was really sorry or glad. The quiet
+home life to which I had been accustomed, varied only by occasional
+visits from the more old-fashioned of the local country families, made
+me long for the larger life, which I knew must belong to the biggest
+city in the world (life which I was simple enough to think I might see a
+great deal of even from the windows of a boarding-school), and made me
+look forward with joyful anticipation to my journey; while the fear of
+flying from the humdrum that I knew, to discipline I knew not of, made
+me temper my anticipations with misgivings and cloud my hopes with
+fears. To put the matter practically, I think I was generally glad when
+I got up in the morning and sorry when I went to bed at night.
+
+"My father's house stood about a hundred yards from the main road, some
+three miles west of Salisbury, and in order to take my passage for
+London, it was necessary that I should be driven into Salisbury in the
+family buggy to join the Exeter mail. I well remember the start. My
+carpet-bag and trunk had been locked and unlocked a great many times
+before they were finally signed, sealed, and delivered to the old
+man-servant who acted as gardener, coachman, and general factotum to our
+household, and when we started off my father placed a book in my hands,
+that I might have something with me to beguile the tedium of the
+journey. My father accompanied me as far as Salisbury to bespeak the
+care and attention of the guard on my behalf, but finding that the only
+other inside passenger was an old gentleman of whom he had some slight
+knowledge, he commended me to my fellow-passenger's protection, and with
+many admonitions as to my future conduct, left me to pursue the journey
+in his company.
+
+"I was feeling rather dull after my companion had exhausted the
+commonplaces of conversation, and experienced a strange loneliness when
+I saw that he had fallen fast asleep in his comfortable corner enveloped
+in rugs and furs. Driven in upon my own resources I opened my book, and
+began to read, though the faint light of the coach lamp did not offer me
+much encouragement.
+
+"The volume was one of 'Travel and Adventure,' and told of the
+experiences of the writer even in the lion's mouth. It recounted
+numerous hair-breadth escapes from the tender mercies of savage animals,
+and described them with such thrilling detail that I soon became
+conscious of those creepy sensations which are so well calculated to
+make us take fright at the least unusual circumstance. I had just got to
+a part at which a wounded lion had struck down his intrepid hunter and
+was standing with one paw upon his breast roaring his defiance to the
+four winds of heaven, when suddenly the coach pulled up with a
+suddenness that threw me into the arms of my companion and somewhat
+unceremoniously aroused him from his slumber. The next moment the coach
+rolled back a few paces and the next plunged forward a few more.
+Meanwhile, the shouts and cries of the outside passengers and the
+rumbling and clambering on the roof of the coach made it clear that
+something terrible had happened. Naturally nervous, and rendered doubly
+so by the narrative I had been reading, I concluded that all Africa was
+upon us and that either natives or wild animals would soon eat us up. My
+companion was no less excited than I was, excitement that was in no way
+lessened by his sense of responsibility for my welfare, and perceiving a
+house close to the road but a few yards in the rear of the coach, he
+hurried me out of the vehicle with more speed than ceremony, and in
+another moment was almost dragging me towards the door. As we alighted,
+our speed was suddenly accelerated by the unmistakable roar of some wild
+beast which had apparently leapt out of the leaves of the book I had
+been reading and was attempting to illustrate the narrative which had so
+thrilled my imagination. There was no mistake about it now; some wild
+beast had attacked the coach, and I was already, in thought, lying
+prostrate beneath his feet. The next thing that I remember was awakening
+in the presence of an eager and interested group gathered round a fire
+in the waiting-room of a village post-house.
+
+"Many versions of the story were current for years among the gossips of
+the country-side, and they differed very materially in the details of
+the narrative. One said it was a tiger which was being conveyed to the
+gardens of the Zoological Society in London, another that it was a
+performing bear which had suddenly gone mad and killed its keeper while
+on its way to Salisbury Fair. Of course the papers published various
+accounts of it, and the story with many variations found its way into
+several books. As you know, I was not an eye-witness of the
+circumstances any further than I have described them, so I am dependent
+upon others for the true account of the facts. The fullest account that
+I have seen in print appeared in a book I bought many years after the
+event, and now if you will get me my spectacles I will read you the
+remainder of the story from that volume.
+
+"'Not many years ago, a curious example of the ferocity of the lioness
+occurred in England. The Exeter mail-coach, on its way to London, was
+attacked on Sunday night, October 20th, 1816, at Winter's Law-Hut, seven
+miles from Salisbury, in a most extraordinary manner. At the moment when
+the coachman pulled up, to deliver his bags, one of the leading horses
+was suddenly seized by a ferocious animal. This produced a great
+confusion and alarm. Two passengers, who were inside the mail, got out,
+and ran in the house. The horse kicked and plunged violently; and it was
+with difficulty the coachman could prevent the carriage from being
+overturned. It was soon observed by the coachman and guard, by the light
+of the lamps, that the animal which had seized the horse was a huge
+lioness. A large mastiff dog came up and attacked her fiercely, on which
+she quitted the horse, and turned upon him. The dog fled, but was
+pursued and killed by the lioness, within about forty yards of the
+place. It appears that the beast had escaped from a caravan, which was
+standing on the roadside, and belonged to a menagerie, on its way to
+Salisbury Fair. An alarm being given, the keepers pursued and hunted the
+lioness, carrying the dog in her teeth, into a hovel under a granary,
+which served for keeping agricultural implements. About half-past eight,
+they had secured her effectually by barricading the place, so as to
+prevent her escape. The horse, when first attacked, fought with great
+spirit; and if he had been at liberty, would probably have beaten down
+his antagonist with his fore-feet; but in plunging, he embarrassed
+himself in the harness. The lioness, it appears, attacked him in front,
+and springing at his throat, had fastened the talons of her fore-feet on
+each side of his gullet, close to the head, while the talons of her
+hind-feet were forced into the chest. In this situation she hung, while
+the blood was seen streaming, as if a vein had been opened by a lancet.
+The furious animal missed the throat and jugular vein; but the horse was
+so dreadfully torn, that he was not at first expected to survive. The
+expressions of agony, in his tears and moans, were most piteous and
+affecting. Whether the lioness was afraid of her prey being taken from
+her, or from some other cause, she continued a considerable time after
+she had entered the hovel roaring in a dreadful manner, so loud, indeed,
+that she was distinctly heard at the distance of half a mile. She was
+eventually secured, and taken to her den; and the proprietor of the
+menagerie did not fail to take advantage of the incident, by having a
+representation of the attack painted in the most captivating colours and
+hung up in front of his establishment.'"
+
+My dear old grandmother quite expected to see "the lions" when she
+reached London, but she was not quite prepared to meet a lioness even
+half way.
+
+
+
+
+A TERRIBLE CHRISTMAS EVE.
+
+BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.
+
+
+I was always a very fearless girl. I do not say I never knew what fear
+was, for on the occasion I am about to relate I was distinctly
+frightened; but I was able to bear myself through it as if I felt
+nothing, and by this means to reassure my poor mother, who perhaps
+realised the danger more thoroughly than I did.
+
+Norah says if it had happened to her she would just have died of fright,
+and I do think she would have, for she is so delicate and timid, and has
+such very highly-strung nerves. Mother and I always call it our
+adventure. I, with a laugh now; but mother, always with a shudder and a
+paling of her sweet face, for she and Norah are very much alike in
+constitution. She says if I had not been her stay and backbone on that
+occasion she must surely have let those awful French people rob her of
+all she possessed. But I am going on too fast.
+
+It happened in this way. Father had some business to transact in France
+in connection with his firm, and had gone off in high spirits, for after
+the business was finished and done with he had arranged to do a little
+travelling on his own account with Mr. Westover--an old chum of his.
+
+We had heard regularly from him as having a very good time till one
+morning the post brought a letter to say he had contracted a low fever
+and was lying sick at a wayside inn. He begged us not to be alarmed for
+his friend was very attentive, and he hoped soon to be himself again.
+Mother was unhappy, we saw that, but Norah and I tried to cheer her up
+by saying how strong father always was, and how soon he shook off any
+little illness. It was his being sick away from home and in a foreign
+country that troubled her.
+
+A few days after a telegram arrived from Mr. Westover. He said mother
+must come at once, for the doctor had serious misgivings as to the turn
+the fever might take.
+
+"Mother, you must take Phyllis with you," decided Norah, who was
+trembling from head to foot, but trying to appear calm for mother's
+sake.
+
+I looked up at mother with eager eyes, for though the thought of dear
+father lying dangerously ill chilled me all over, yet the idea of
+travelling to France made my heart leap within me.
+
+Mother was packing a handbag when Norah spoke. She looked up and saw my
+eyes round with delight.
+
+"Yes," she said, "I would prefer a companion. Phyllis, get ready at
+once, for we haven't much time."
+
+Her voice sounded as if tears were in it, and I sprang up and kissed her
+before rushing away to my room.
+
+My little bag was packed before mother's, but then she had money
+arrangements to make which I had not.
+
+Two hours after the receipt of the telegram we were driving down the
+road to the railway station two miles from our home.
+
+Our journey was of no moment at first starting. We crossed the water
+without any mishap, and on arriving at Dunkirk bore the Custom-house
+officers' searching of our handbags with a stoical calmness. What
+mattered such trifles when our one thought, our one hope lay in the
+direction of that wayside inn where father lay tossing in delirium?
+
+We spent one night at an hotel, and the next morning, which was
+Christmas Eve, we were up early to catch the first express to Brives.
+From Brives to Fleur another train would take us, and the rest of our
+journey would have to be accomplished by _diligence_.
+
+It was cold, bitterly cold, and I saw mother's eyes look apprehensively
+up to the leaden sky. I knew she was fearing a heavy fall of snow which
+might interrupt our journey.
+
+We reached Fleur at three o'clock in the afternoon, and took the
+_diligence_ that was awaiting the train. Then what mother feared took
+place. Snow began to fall--heavy snow, and the horses in the _diligence_
+began to labour after only one hour's storm. Mother's face grew paler
+and paler. I did not dare to look at her, or to think what we should do
+if the snow prevented us getting much farther. And father! what would
+father do! After two hours' weary drive we sighted the first stopping
+place.
+
+"There is the inn!" said a portly fellow-traveller. "And a good thing,
+too, that we'll have a roof over our heads, for there will be no driving
+farther for some days to come."
+
+"We must make a jovial Christmas party by ourselves," said another old
+gentleman, gathering all his belongings together in preparation for
+getting out.
+
+I looked at mother. Her face was blanched.
+
+"But surely," she said, "this snow won't prevent the second _diligence_
+taking my daughter and myself to the _Pomme d'Or_ at Creux? It is only a
+matter of an hour from here."
+
+"You'll get no _diligence_ either to-day or to-morrow, madame," was the
+answer she received.
+
+The inn was reached--a funny little old-fashioned place--and we all
+descended ankle deep into the newly-fallen snow.
+
+The landlord of the inn was waiting at the door, and invited us all in
+with true French courtesy. The cosy kitchen we entered had a lovely wood
+fire in the old-fashioned grate, and the dancing flames cast a cheery
+light upon the whitewashed walls. Oh, if only this had been the inn
+where father was staying! How gladly we would have rested our weary
+limbs and revelled in that glorious firelight. But it was not to be.
+
+Mother's idea of another _diligence_ was quite pooh-poohed.
+
+"If it had been coming it would have been here before now," announced
+the landlord.
+
+"Then we must walk it," returned my mother.
+
+"Impossible," was the landlord's answer, and the portly old gentleman
+seconded him. "It is a matter of five miles from here."
+
+"If I wish to see my husband alive I must walk it," said my mother in
+tremulous tones.
+
+There was a murmur of commiseration, and the landlord, a kindly, genial
+old Frenchman, trotted to the door of the inn and looked out. He came
+back presently, rubbing his cold hands.
+
+"The snow has ceased, the stars are coming out. If Madame insists----"
+he shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"We shall walk it if you will kindly direct us the way."
+
+As she spoke my mother picked up her handbag, and I stooped for mine,
+but was arrested by a deep voice saying,--
+
+"I am going part of the way. If madame will allow me I will walk with
+her."
+
+I saw the landlord's open brow contract, and I turned to look at the
+speaker. He was a tall, dark, low-browed man, with shaggy black hair and
+deep-set eyes. He had been sitting there on our arrival, and I had not
+liked his appearance at first sight. I now hoped that mother would not
+accept his company. But mother, too intent on getting to her journey's
+end, jumped at the offer.
+
+"_Merci, monsieur_," she said gratefully. "We will start at once if you
+have no objection."
+
+The fellow got on his feet at once, and stretching out his hand took a
+slouched hat off the chair behind him and clapped it on his head. I did
+see mother give him one furtive look then--it gave him such a
+brigand-like appearance, but she resolutely turned away, and thanked the
+landlord for the short shelter he had afforded us. She was producing her
+purse, but the landlord, with a hasty glance in the direction of our
+escort, motioned her to put it away. He and the two gentlemen came to
+see us start, the landlord causing me some little comfort by calling
+after us that he would make inquiries as soon as he was able, as to
+whether we had reached our destination in safety.
+
+Our escort started ahead of us, and we followed close on his footsteps.
+We had journeyed so for two miles, plodding heavily and slowly along,
+for the snow was deep and the wind was cutting. Our companion never once
+spoke, and would only look occasionally over his shoulder to see if we
+were keeping up with him, and I was beginning to lose my fear of him and
+call myself a coward for being afraid, when suddenly the snow began
+again. This time it came down in whirling drifts penetrating through all
+our warm clothing, and making our walking heavier and more laboured than
+before. It was all we could do to keep our feet, for the wind whistled
+and moaned, threatening at every turn to bear us away.
+
+Then only did our companion speak.
+
+"_C'est mauvais_," he shouted above the storm, and his voice, sounding
+so gruff and deep and so unexpected, made me jump in the air.
+
+Mother assented in her gentle voice, and we plodded on as before, I
+wishing with all my heart that we had never left that cosy kitchen, for
+I could not see how we were to cover another three miles in this
+fashion. I said not a word, however, for I would not have gainsaid
+mother in this journey, considering how much there was at stake.
+
+It was she herself who came to a standstill after walking another half
+mile.
+
+"Monsieur," she called faintly, "I do not think I can go farther."
+
+He turned round then and, was it my fancy? but I thought, as he retraced
+his steps to our side, that an evil grin was making his ugly face still
+uglier.
+
+"Madame is tired. I am not surprised, but if she can manage just five
+minutes' more walk we shall reach my own house, where she can have
+shelter."
+
+Mother was grateful for his offer. She thanked him and continued her
+weary walk till a sudden bend in the road brought us almost upon a small
+house situated right on the road, looking dark and gloomy enough, with
+just one solitary light shining dimly through the darkness.
+
+The fellow paused here with his hand on the latch, and I noticed a small
+sign-board swaying and creaking in the wind just above our heads. This
+then was an inn too? Why then had the landlord of that other inn cast
+such suspicious glances at the proposal of this man?
+
+Such questions were answerable only the next morning, for just now I was
+too weary to care where I spent the night as I stumbled after mother
+into a dark passage, and then onwards to a room where the faint light
+had been dimly discernible from outside.
+
+In that room there was an ugly old woman--bent and aged--cooking
+something over a small fire; and crouched upon a low seat near the stove
+sat a hunchbacked man, swarthy, black-haired, and ugly too. My heart
+gave one leap, and then sank down into my shoes. What kind of a house
+had we come into to spend a whole night?
+
+Our escort said something rapidly in French--too rapidly for me to
+follow, and then motioned us to sit down as he placed two wooden chairs
+for us. Mother sank down, almost too wearied to return the greeting
+which the old hag by the fire accorded her.
+
+The hunchback eyed us without a word, but when I summoned up courage to
+occasionally glance in his direction I fancied that a sinister smile
+crossed his face, making him look curiously like our escort.
+
+Two bowls of soup were put down before us, and the old woman hospitably
+pressed us to partake of it. The whole family sat down to the same meal,
+but the hunchback had his in his seat by the fire. It was cabbage soup,
+and neither mother nor I fancied it very much, but for politeness' sake
+we took a few spoonfuls, and ate some of the coarse brown bread, of
+which there was plenty on the table.
+
+The warmth of the room was beginning to have effect on me, and my body
+was so inexpressibly weary that I felt half dozing in my seat, and my
+eyelids would close in spite of myself.
+
+All of a sudden I heard mother give a little scream. I was wide awake
+in an instant, and to my amazement saw the hunchback crawling on his
+hands and knees under the table. My mother's lips were white and
+trembling as she stooped to pick up the purse she had let fall in her
+fright, but before she could do so our escort stooped down and handed it
+to her with a--
+
+"_Permettez moi, madame._"
+
+At the same time he kicked out under the table, muttering an oath as he
+did so, and the hunchback returned to his seat by the fire and nursed
+his knees with his sinister grin.
+
+Mother began to apologise for her little scream.
+
+"I am very tired," she said, addressing the old woman; "and if it will
+not inconvenience you, my daughter and I would much like to retire for
+the night, as we wish to be up early to continue our journey."
+
+The old woman lighted a candle, looking at our escort as she did so.
+
+"Which room?" she asked.
+
+He gave a jerk of his head indicating a room above the one we were in;
+and then he opened the door very politely for us, and hoped we'd have a
+pleasant night.
+
+I could not resist the inclination to look back at the hunchback. He had
+left off nursing his knees, but his whole body was convulsed with silent
+laughter, and he was holding up close to his eyes a gold coin.
+
+The room the old woman conducted us to was a long one, with half-a-dozen
+steps leading up to it. She bade us good night and closed the door,
+leaving us with the lighted candle.
+
+The minute the door closed upon her, I darted to it. But horrors! there
+was no key, no bolt, nothing to fasten ourselves in. I looked at mother.
+She was sitting on the bed, and beckoned me with her finger to come
+close. I did so. She whispered,--
+
+"Phyllis, be brave for my sake. I have done a foolish thing in bringing
+you to this house. I distrust these people."
+
+"So do I," I whispered back.
+
+"That purse of mine that fell--they saw what was in it."
+
+"Did it fall open?"
+
+"Yes, and a napoleon rolled out--that hunchback picked it up and put it
+into his pocket. He did not think I saw him."
+
+"How much money have you got altogether?"
+
+"Twenty napoleons, and a few francs."
+
+"And they saw all that?"
+
+"I am afraid so. Of course they could not tell how much there was. They
+saw a number of coins. If they attempt to rob us of it all to-night we
+shall have nothing to continue our journey to-morrow. And how we can
+keep it from them I don't know."
+
+Mother's face was white and drawn. Father and Norah would not have
+recognised her.
+
+"We shall hide it from them," I answered as bravely as I could. I would
+not let mother see that I was nervous.
+
+The room was bare of everything but just the necessary furniture. A more
+difficult place to hide anything could not easily be found. Every
+article of ours would be ransacked, I felt sure. Our handbags would be
+searched; our clothes ditto. Where on earth could we put that purse?
+
+I was sitting on the bed as I looked round the room. We would, of
+course, be lying in the bed when they came to search the room, and even
+our pillows would not be safe from their touch. Stay! What did the bed
+clothes consist of? A hasty examination disclosed two blankets and a
+sheet, and under those the mattress. That mattress gave me an idea. I
+had found a hiding-place.
+
+"Have you scissors and needle and cotton in your bag?" I whispered.
+
+Mother nodded. "I think Norah put my sewing case in."
+
+She opened it. Yes, everything was to hand.
+
+With her help I turned the mattress right up, and made an incision in
+the middle of the ticking.
+
+"Give me the money," I said in a low voice.
+
+She handed it silently. I slipped each coin carefully into the incision.
+
+"We'll leave them the francs," mother whispered. "They might ... they
+might ... wish to harm us if they found nothing."
+
+I nodded. Then with the aid of the needle and cotton I stitched up the
+opening I had made, and without more ado we took off our outer clothes,
+our boots and stockings, and lay down in the bed.
+
+But not to sleep! We neither of us closed an eyelid, so alert were we
+for the expected footstep on the other side of the door.
+
+They gave us a reasonable time to go to sleep. Our extinguished candle
+told them we were in bed. Near about twelve o'clock our strained hearing
+detected the sound of a slight fumbling at the door. It opened, and the
+moonlight streaming in through the uncurtained windows showed us,
+through our half-shut eyelids, the figures of our escort and the
+hunchback. They moved like cats about the room. It struck me even then
+that they were used to these midnight searches.
+
+A thrill of fear went through me as the hunchback passed the bed, but a
+dogged persistency was with me still that they should not have our
+money. Our handbags were taken out of the room, doubtless to be examined
+at leisure by the old woman, and mulct of anything valuable. We heard a
+slight clink of money which meant the purse was emptied. Our clothes
+were shaken and examined, even our boots were looked into.
+
+Lastly they came to the bed. My eyes were glued then to my cheeks, and
+mother's must have been so as well. I could not see what they did, but I
+could feel them. They were practised though in their handling of our
+pillows, for had I been really asleep I should never have felt anything.
+
+They looked everywhere, they felt everywhere, everywhere but in the
+right place, and then with a hardly-concealed murmur of dissatisfaction
+they went from the room, closing the door after them. Mother and I lay
+quiet. The only thing we did was to hold one another's hands under the
+bed-clothes, and to press our shoulders close together.
+
+Only once again did the door open, and that was to admit our escort, who
+had brought back our handbags.
+
+And then the door closed for good and all, but we never said a word all
+the long night through, though each knew and felt that the other was
+awake. The grey dawn stealing in saw us with eyes strained and wide, and
+we turned and looked at each other, and mother kissed me. It was
+Christmas Day.
+
+Our hearts were braver with the daylight, and what was joy unspeakable
+was to see the snow melting fast away under the heavy thaw that had set
+in during the early hours of the dawn. Our journey could be pursued
+without much difficulty, for if need be we could walk every step of the
+way.
+
+When it was quite light we got up and dressed. I undid my stitching of
+the night before, gave mother back the gold safe and intact, and then
+sewed up the incision as neatly as I could.
+
+We went down hatted and cloaked to the room we had supped in the night
+before. It presented no change. Over the fire the old woman bent,
+stirring something in a saucepan; our escort was seated at the table,
+and by the stove sat the hunchback nursing his knees--with only one
+difference,--there was no grin upon his face. He looked like a man
+thwarted.
+
+We had just bade them good morning and the old woman was asking us how
+we had slept, when the noise of wheels and horses' feet sounded outside.
+It was the second _diligence_. The landlord of the inn had told the
+conductor to call and see if we had been forced to take refuge in our
+escort's house. The jovial conductor was beaming all over as he stamped
+his wet feet on the stone floor of the kitchen, laughing at the
+miraculous disappearance of all the snow. His very presence seemed to
+put new life into us.
+
+"And what am I indebted to you," asked mother, "for the kindly shelter
+you have afforded us?"
+
+Our escort shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever madame wishes," was his
+reply.
+
+So mother placed a napoleon upon the table. It was too much, I always
+maintained, after all the francs they had robbed from the purse, and the
+gold piece the hunchback had picked up, but it was the smallest coin
+mother had, and she told me afterwards she didn't grudge it, for our
+lives had been spared us as well as the bulk of our money.
+
+The _diligence_ rattled briskly along, and we reached the _Pomme d'Or_
+to find that father's illness had taken a favourable turn during that
+terrible night, and the only thing he needed now was care and good
+nursing. When he was well again he reported our experiences to the
+police, and we had good reason to believe that no credulous wayfarer
+ever had to undergo the terrible ordeal that we did that night. The
+house was ever after kept under strict police surveillance.
+
+
+
+
+A NIGHT OF HORROR.
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+The jaguar, otherwise known as the American leopard, belongs to the
+forests of South America, and has many points of difference from, as
+well as some of similarity with, the leopard of Asia. Though ferocious
+in his wild state, he is amenable to civilising influences and becomes
+mild and tame in captivity. He is an excellent swimmer and an expert
+climber, ascending to the tops of high branchless trees by fixing his
+claws in the trunks. It is said that he can hunt in the trees almost as
+well as he can upon the ground, and that hence he becomes a formidable
+enemy to the monkeys. He is also a clever fisherman, his method being
+that of dropping saliva on to the surface of the water, and upon the
+approach of a fish, by a dexterous stroke of his paw knocking it out of
+the water on to the bank.
+
+But the jaguar by no means confines his attention to hunting monkeys and
+defenceless fish. He will hunt big game, and when hungry will not
+hesitate to attack man.
+
+The strength of the jaguar is very great, and as he can climb, swim, and
+leap a great distance, he seems to be almost equally formidable in three
+elements. He is said to attack the alligator and to banquet with evident
+relish off his victim. D'Azara says that on one occasion he found a
+jaguar feasting upon a horse which it had killed. The jaguar fled at his
+approach, whereupon he had the body of the horse dragged to within a
+musket shot of a tree in which he purposed watching for the jaguar's
+return. While temporarily absent he left a man to keep watch, and while
+he was away the jaguar reappeared on the opposite side of a river which
+was both deep and broad. Having crossed the river the animal approached,
+and seized the horse with his teeth, dragged it some sixty paces to the
+water side, plunged in with it, swam across the river, pulled it out
+upon the other side, and carried it into a neighbouring wood.
+
+Such an animal could not but be a formidable foe to any one who had the
+misfortune to be unarmed when attacked, as many an early settler in the
+Western States of America found to his cost. Among such experiences, the
+following story of a night of horror told by Mrs. Bowdich stands out as
+a tale of terror scarcely likely to be surpassed.
+
+Two of the early settlers in the Western States of America, a man and
+his wife, once closed their wooden hut, and went to pay a visit at a
+distance, leaving a freshly-killed piece of venison hanging inside. The
+gable end of this house was not boarded up as high as the roof, but a
+large aperture was left for light and air. By taking an enormous leap, a
+hungry jaguar, attracted by the smell of the venison, had entered the
+hut and devoured part of it. He was disturbed by the return of the
+owners, and took his departure. The venison was removed. The husband
+went away the night after to a distance, and left his wife alone in the
+hut. She had not been long in bed before she heard the jaguar leap in at
+the open gable. There was no door between her room and that in which he
+had entered, and she knew not how to protect herself. She, however,
+screamed as loudly as she could, and made all the violent noises she
+could think of, which served to frighten him away at that time; but she
+knew he would come again, and she must be prepared for him. She tried to
+make a large fire, but the wood was expended. She thought of rolling
+herself up in the bed-clothes, but these would be torn off. The idea of
+getting under the low bedstead suggested itself, but she felt sure a paw
+would be stretched forth which would drag her out. Her husband had taken
+all their firearms. At last, as she heard the jaguar this time
+scrambling up the end of the house, she in despair got into a large
+store chest, the lid of which closed with a spring. Scarcely was she
+within it, and had dragged the lid down, inserting her fingers between
+it and the side of the chest, when the jaguar discovered where she was.
+He smelt round the chest, tried to get his head in through the crack,
+but fortunately he could not raise the lid. He found her fingers and
+began to lick them; she felt them bleed, but did not dare to move them
+for fear she should be suffocated. At length the jaguar leaped on to the
+lid, and his weight pressing down the lid, fractured these fingers.
+Still she could not move. He smelt round again, he pulled, he leaped on
+and off, till at last getting tired of his vain efforts, he went away.
+The poor woman lay there till daybreak, and then only feeling safe from
+her enemy, she went as fast as her strength would let her to her nearest
+neighbour's, a distance of two miles, where she procured help for her
+wounded fingers, which were long in getting well. On his return, her
+husband found a male and female jaguar in the forest close by, with
+their cubs, and all were destroyed.
+
+Human hair has been known to turn white in a single night, and is often
+said to do so in the pages of fiction. Whether it did so or not in the
+present case is not recorded, but certainly if it did not, it lost an
+exceptional opportunity.
+
+
+
+
+AUNT GRIEVES' SILVER.
+
+BY LUCIE E. JACKSON.
+
+
+When Kate Hamilton's father had been dead six months, and Kate had had
+time to realise that the extensive sheep station belonged to her and to
+her alone--that she, in fact, was what the shearers called "the
+boss"--then did she sit down and pen a few lines to her aunt in
+England--her father's only sister. She did not exactly know what
+possessed her to do it. She had never at any time during her nineteen
+years corresponded with her aunt; it was her father who had kept up the
+tie between his sister and himself. But notwithstanding that she was now
+"boss," perhaps a craving for a little of the sympathy and the great
+affection with which her father had always surrounded her, had something
+to do with her wishing to get up a correspondence with his sister.
+Whatever the reason the impulse was there, and the letter was despatched
+to the England that Kate had never seen except through her father's
+eyes.
+
+A few weeks later she received an answer that filled her with surprise.
+
+After a few preliminary remarks relating to the grief she felt at the
+news of her brother's death, Mrs. Grieves wrote as follows:
+
+     "Your cousin Cicely and I cannot bear to think of your
+     being alone--young girl that you are--without a single
+     relative near for comfort or advice. I have made up my mind
+     to start for Australia as soon as I can arrange my affairs
+     satisfactorily. There is nothing to keep us in England
+     since Cicely's father died last year, and I long to see my
+     brother's only child. Moreover, the voyage will do Cicely
+     good, for she is very fragile, and the doctor warmly
+     approves of the idea. So adieu, my dear child, till we
+     meet. I shall send a cablegram the day before our vessel
+     starts.
+
+                                "Your affectionate aunt,
+                                           "CAROLINE GRIEVES."
+
+Kate's face was a study when she had finished reading the letter.
+Surprise she certainly felt, and a little amusement, too, to think that
+she--an Australian bush-born girl--could not look after herself and her
+affairs without an English aunt and an English cousin travelling many
+thousands of miles across the water to aid her with their advice.
+
+Hadn't she been for the last three years her father's right hand in the
+store, and in the shearing-shed, too, for that matter? Didn't she
+understand thoroughly how the books were kept? For this very reason her
+father, knowing full well that the complaint from which he suffered
+would sooner or later cause his death, had kept her cognisant of how the
+station should be managed. And now these English relatives were leaving
+their beautiful English home to give her advice upon matters that they
+were totally ignorant of!
+
+Kate sat down with the letter in her hand and laughed. Then she looked
+sober. It would after all be pleasant to see some of her own relatives,
+not one of which--either on her dead mother's or her father's side--did
+she possess in Australia.
+
+Yes, after all, the idea, on closer investigation, did not seem at all
+disagreeable, and Kate took up the letter again and read it with
+pleasure this time.
+
+Even if she had wished to put a stop to the intended visit, she could
+not have had time, for three weeks later she received the cablegram:
+
+     "_We are leaving by the steamer Europia._"
+
+She really felt a thrill of joy as she read this. She could now
+calculate upon the day they were likely to arrive. The days flew fast
+enough, for Kate had not time to sit down and dream over the appearance
+of the travellers. The "boss" was wanted everywhere, and she must needs
+know the why and wherefore of matters pertaining to account-books,
+shearing sheds, cattle-yards, stores, and everything relating to the
+homestead.
+
+"It is good you were born with your father's business head," said Phil
+Wentworth, with a scarcely concealed look of admiration.
+
+He was the manager of the station at Watakona. Mr. Hamilton had chosen
+him five years before to be his representative over the shearing-shed
+and stores, finding him after that length of time fully capable of
+performing all and more than was expected of him. He was a good-looking
+young man of thirty, with a bright, cheery manner, that had a good
+effect upon those employed at the station.
+
+"Not a grumble from one of the men has ever been heard since Wentworth
+came here as manager," Kate's father had often said to her. "So
+different from that rascal Woods, who treated some of the men as if they
+were dogs, and allowed many a poor sheep to go shorn to its pen cut and
+bleeding from overhaste, with never a word of remonstrance."
+
+And Kate bore that in mind, as also some of her father's last words:
+
+"Don't ever be persuaded to part with Wentworth. He is far and away the
+best man I have ever had for the business."
+
+
+At last the day came when Mrs. Grieves and her daughter Cicely arrived
+at Watakona.
+
+There was a comical smile on the manager's good-looking face as trunk
+after trunk was lifted down off the waggon, and Kate's aunt announced
+that "there was more to come."
+
+"More to come!" answered Kate, surprised. And then, bursting into a
+laugh, "Dear aunt, what can you have brought that will be of any use to
+you in this out-of-the-way place?"
+
+Mrs. Grieves smilingly nodded her head. "There is not one trunk there
+that I could possibly do without."
+
+And Kate, with another smile, dismissed the subject.
+
+But not so her aunt. When they were all seated together after a
+comfortable tea, she began in a whisper, looking round cautiously first
+to see that no one was within hearing:
+
+"You are curious, Kate dear, to know what those trunks contain?"
+
+"My curiosity can stay, aunt. I am only afraid that what you have
+brought will be of no use to you. You see, I live such a quiet life
+here, with few friends and fewer grand dresses, that I fear you will be
+disappointed at not being able to wear any of the things you have
+brought."
+
+Cicely, a pretty, delicate-looking girl, laughed merrily.
+
+"They do not hold dresses, Kate. No, I have not thought to lead a gay
+life on a sheep station in Australia. What I have brought is something
+that I could not bear to leave behind. Those trunks contain all the
+silver I used to use in my English home."
+
+"Silver! What kind of silver?"
+
+"Teapots, cream ewers, epergnes, candlesticks, to say nothing of the
+spoons, forks, fish-knives, etc.," said Cicely gaily.
+
+"You've brought all those things with you here?" cried Kate, horrified.
+"Oh, aunt, where can I put them all for safety?"
+
+Mrs. Grieves looked nonplussed. "I suppose you have some iron safes----"
+she began.
+
+"But not big enough to store that quantity of silver!"
+
+Kate spent a restless night. Visions of bushrangers stood between her
+and sleep. What would she do with that silver?
+
+"Bank it," suggested Phil Wentworth the next morning, as she explained
+her difficulty to him in the little counting-house after breakfast.
+
+Kate shook her head. "Aunt wouldn't do it. If she did she might as well
+have banked it in England."
+
+The manager pulled his moustache. "How much is there?"
+
+"I haven't seen it, but from what Cicely says I should say there are
+heaps and heaps."
+
+"Foolish woman," was the manager's thought, but he wisely kept it to
+himself.
+
+When, however, the silver was laid before her very eyes, and piece after
+piece was taken from the trunks, ranged alongside one another in Mrs.
+Grieves's bedroom, Kate's heart failed her.
+
+"Mr. Wentworth must see it and advise me," was all she could say. And
+her aunt could not deter her.
+
+Kate's white brow was puckered into a frown, and her pretty mouth
+drooped slightly at the corners as she watched Mr. Wentworth making his
+inspection of the silver. She knew his face so well, she could tell at
+one glance that he was thinking her aunt an exceedingly foolish woman,
+and Kate was not quite sure that she did not agree with him.
+
+However, the silver was there, and they had to make the best of it, for
+Mrs. Grieves utterly rejected the idea of having it conveyed to a bank
+in Sydney.
+
+"The only thing to do," said the manager gloomily, turning to Kate, "is
+to place it under the trap-door in the counting-house."
+
+Kate looked questioningly at him. He half smiled.
+
+"I think that the only thing you are not aware of in the business is the
+fact that the flooring of the counting-house can be converted at will
+into a strong lock-up. Come, and I will show you."
+
+The three women followed him. To Cicely's English eyes the entire
+homestead was a strangely delightful place.
+
+Rolling to one side the matting that covered the floor of the
+counting-house, Mr. Wentworth paused, and introducing a lever between
+the joining of two boards upheaved a square trap-door, revealing to the
+eyes of the astonished English ladies, and the no less astonished
+Australian "boss," a wide, gaping receptacle, suitable for the very
+articles under discussion.
+
+It looked dark and gloomy below, but on the manager's striking a wax
+match and holding it aloft, they were enabled each one to descend the
+short ladder which the opening of the flooring revealed. Beneath the
+counting-house Kate found to her amazement a room quite as large as the
+one above it, furnished with chairs, a table, and a couple of stout iron
+safes. Upon the table stood an old iron candlestick into which Mr.
+Wentworth inserted a candle lighted from his wax match.
+
+"You never told me," were Kate's reproachful words, and still more
+reproachful glance.
+
+"I tell you now," he said lightly. "There was no need to before. Your
+father showed it me when I had been here a year. Indeed, he and I often
+forgot that the counting-house had been built for a double purpose,--but
+that was because there was nothing to stow away of much value. Now I
+think we have just the hiding-place for all that silver."
+
+It was indeed the place, the very place, and under great secrecy the
+silver was conveyed through the trap-door, and firmly locked into the
+iron safes.
+
+So far so good, and Kate breathed again with almost as much of her old
+light-heartedness as before.
+
+In spite of her doubt of the wisdom of bringing such valuables so far
+and to such a place, she and Cicely took a secret delight in a weekly
+cleaning up of the silver, secure of all observation from outsiders. It
+was a pleasure to Kate to lift and polish the handsome epergne, and to
+finger the delicate teaspoons and fanciful fish-knives and forks.
+
+"What a haul this would be for a bushranger!" she said one day, as she
+carefully laid the admired epergne back into its place in the iron safe.
+
+Cicely gave a gasp and a shudder. "You--you don't have them in these
+parts, surely!" she ejaculated.
+
+"If they find there is anything worth lifting they'll visit any
+homestead in the colony," returned Kate.
+
+"But oh! dear Kate, what should we do if they came here? I should die of
+fright."
+
+"Yes, I'm afraid you would," said Kate, glancing compassionately at the
+delicate figure beside her, and at the cheeks which had visibly lost
+their pink colour. "No, Cicely, I don't think there is any chance of
+such characters visiting us just now. The first and last time I saw a
+bushranger was when I was fifteen years old. He and his men tried to
+break into our house for, somehow, it had got wind that father had in
+the house a large sum of money--money which of course he usually banked.
+I can see dear old father now, standing with his rifle in his hand at
+the dining-room window, and Mr. Wentworth standing beside him. They were
+firing away at three men who were as much in earnest as my father and
+his manager were."
+
+"And what happened?" asked Cicely breathlessly, as Kate stopped to look
+round for her polishing cloth.
+
+"Father killed one man, the two others got away, not, however, before
+Mr. Wentworth had shot away the forefinger of the leader. We found it
+after they had gone, lying on the path beside the cattle-yard. He was a
+terrible fellow, the leader of that bushranging crew. He went by the
+name of Wolfgang. He may be alive now, I don't know. I have not heard of
+any depredations committed by him for two or three years now."
+
+"And I hope you never will," said Cicely with a shudder. "Kate, have you
+done all you want to do here? I should so like to finish that letter to
+send off by to-day's mail."
+
+"Then go. I'll just stay to lock up. You haven't much time if you want
+Sam Griffiths to take it this afternoon."
+
+Cicely jumped up without another word, and climbed the ladder.
+
+Kate lifted the case of fish-knives into the safe, and stretched out her
+hand for the other articles without turning her head. She felt her hand
+clutched as in a vice by fingers cold as ice. She turned sharply round.
+Cicely was at her side with lips and cheeks devoid of colour.
+
+"Good gracious, Cicely! what is the matter? How you startled me!" said
+Kate in a vexed tone.
+
+Cicely laid one cold, trembling, finger upon her cousin's lips.
+
+"He has seen us--he has been looking down on us," was all she could
+articulate.
+
+"Who? What do you mean?" But Kate's voice was considerably lowered.
+
+"The bushranger Wolfgang. He--he has seen all the silver!"
+
+Kate broke into a nervous laugh. "I think you are dreaming, Cicely. How
+do you know you saw Wolfgang? And how could he see us down here?"
+
+"It is no dream," answered Cicely in the same husky whisper. "Kate, as I
+climbed the ladder quickly I saw the face of a man disappear from the
+trap-door, but not before I caught sight of the forefinger missing off
+the hand that held one side of the trap-door. Kate, Kate, it was
+Wolfgang. He has been staring down at us."
+
+Kate looked up wildly at the opening above. It was free from all
+intruders now. She locked every article into the safe without uttering a
+word; then said, "Come."
+
+Together they mounted the ladder; together they latched down the
+trap-door; together they left the counting-house.
+
+"Tell Sam to ride to the shed and ask Mr. Wentworth to come to me at
+once--at once." Kate gave the order in a calm voice to the one woman
+servant that did the work in the house.
+
+"Sam isn't in the yards," was the answer. "He told me three hours ago
+that he was wanted by Mr. Wentworth to ride to the township for
+something or other. He was in a fine way about it, for he said it was
+taking him from his work here."
+
+Some of Kate's calm left her. She looked round at the helpless
+women--three now, for her aunt had joined them.
+
+"Aunt," she said, forcing herself to speak quietly, "I have fears that
+this afternoon we shall be attacked by bushrangers. Unfortunately Sam
+has been called away, and he is the only man we have on the premises.
+There is not another within reach, except at the shearing-shed, and you
+know where that is. Which of you will venture to ride there for help? I
+dare not go, for I must protect the house."
+
+She glanced at each of the three faces in turn, and saw no help there.
+Becky, the servant, had utterly collapsed at the word bushranger; the
+other two faces looked as if carved in stone.
+
+"Kate, Kate, is there no other help near?"
+
+"Not nearer than the shearing-shed, aunt."
+
+"I daren't go. I couldn't ride that distance."
+
+"Cicely?" Kate's tone was imploring.
+
+"Don't ask me," and Cicely burst into a flood of tears.
+
+"We must defend ourselves, then."
+
+The Australian girl's voice was quiet, albeit it trembled slightly.
+
+"Come to the counting-house. Becky, you come too. We must barricade the
+place. I'll run round and fasten up every door. They will have a tough
+job to get in," she murmured grimly.
+
+How she thanked her father for the strong oak door! The oaken shutters
+with their massive iron clamps! It would seem as if he had expected a
+raid from bushrangers at some time or other in his life. The
+counting-house door was stronger than the others. She now understood the
+reason why. The room below had been taken into consideration when that
+door was put up.
+
+It was three o'clock in the afternoon. A broiling, sun-baking afternoon.
+They were prepared, sitting, as it were, in readiness for the attack
+they were momentarily expecting.
+
+It came at last. The voice that sounded outside the counting-house door
+took her back to the time when she was fifteen years of age. It was a
+strange, harsh voice, grating in its harshness, strange in being like no
+other. She remembered it to be the voice of the man that had challenged
+her father that memorable day--remembered it to be the voice of
+Wolfgang.
+
+Like an evil bird of prey had he scented from afar the silver stored
+under the trap-door, just as he had scented the sum of money her father
+had hidden away in the house.
+
+"It's no use your sheltering yourselves in there," said the voice. "We
+want to harm no one--it's against our principles. What we want is just
+the silver hidden under the counting-house, and we want nothing more."
+
+With one finger upraised, cautioning silence, Kate saw for the twentieth
+time to the priming of her rifle--the very rifle that had shot
+Wolfgang's chief man four years before. There was no need for her to
+caution her companions to silence. They knelt on the floor--a huddled,
+trembling trio.
+
+If only Kate could see how many men there were! But she could not.
+
+"It will take them some time to batter in that door," thought she, "and
+by that time, who knows, help may come from some unexpected quarter."
+
+"Do you dare to defy us?" said the voice again. "We know you are utterly
+helpless. Sam has been got out of the way by a cooked-up story, ditto
+your manager. They are both swearing in the broiling township by now."
+And the voice broke off with a loud "Ha! ha!"
+
+At which two other voices echoed "Ha! ha! ha! ha!"
+
+Kate strained her ears to catch the sounds. Were there only three, then,
+just as there had been three four years before?
+
+Then ensued a battering at the door, but it stood like a rock. They were
+tiring at that game. It hurt them, and did no good. There was silence
+for the space of some minutes, and then the sound of scraping reached
+Kate's ears.
+
+What were they doing now?
+
+It sounded on the roof of the counting-house. O God! they were never
+going to make an entrance that way!
+
+Scrape, scrape, scrape. The sound went on persistently.
+
+Kate's face was hidden in her hands. Was she praying? thought Cicely.
+Then she, too, lifted up a silent prayer for help in their time of need.
+
+Kate's voice whispering in her ear aroused her. "Come," she breathed.
+
+And with one accord, without a question, the three followed her
+silently.
+
+The room beyond the counting-house was up a narrow flight of stairs. It
+used to be called by Kate, in derision, "Father's observatory." Through
+a small pane of glass in this room she could see the roof of the
+counting-house.
+
+Sawing away at the wooden structure upon which he was perched sat
+Wolfgang himself, whilst the man beside him was busily engaged in
+removing the thatch piece by piece.
+
+Kate waited to see no more. Raising her rifle to her shoulder she
+fired--fired straight at the leading bushranger.
+
+She saw him stagger and roll--roll down the sloping roof, and fall with
+a dull thud to the ground below.
+
+She could only lean against the wall, and hide her face in her trembling
+hands. Was he dead? Had she killed him? Or had the fall off the house
+completed the deed?
+
+She felt a hand on her arm. Becky was standing beside her. "Give me the
+rifle," she breathed. "I can load it."
+
+With a faint feeling of surprise at her heart, Kate handed her the
+weapon with fingers slightly unsteady. She received it back in silence,
+and mounted to her place of observation again.
+
+Wolfgang's companion was crouching. His attitude struck Kate
+disagreeably. His back was turned to her. What was he looking at?
+
+She strained her eyes, and descried, galloping at the top of his speed,
+Black Bounce, and on his back was Phil Wentworth. Behind him at
+breakneck pace came six of the shearers--tall, brawny men, the very
+sight of whom inspired courage.
+
+Wentworth's rifle was raised. A shot rang through the air. Then another.
+And yet another. Bang! bang! bang! What had happened?
+
+Kate, straining her eyes, only knew that just as the manager's rifle
+went off, the bushranger on the roof had fired at him, not, however,
+before Kate's shot disabled him in the arm, thus preventing his aim from
+covering the manager.
+
+"Thank God, thank God, we are saved!" she cried.
+
+And now that the danger was over, Kate sank down upon the floor of the
+"observatory," and sobbed as if her heart would break.
+
+Becky--her bravery returning as the sound of horses' hoofs struck upon
+her ear--slipped from the room, leaving Mrs. Grieves and Cicely to play
+the part of consolers to her young mistress.
+
+It appeared that a trumped-up story, purporting to come from one of his
+friends in the township, had caused Phil Wentworth to go there that
+morning, and that on his way he overtook Sam Griffiths, who grumpily
+asked him why he should have been ordered to the township when his hands
+were so full of work at home. This led the young manager to scent
+something wrong, and telling Griffiths to follow him home quickly he
+rode straight back to the shed, and getting some of the shearers to
+accompany him, made straight tracks for the house.
+
+Mrs. Grieves and Cicely had by this time had as much as they cared for
+of bush life, and very shortly after announced that the Australian
+climate did not suit either Cicely or herself as she had hoped it might,
+and that they had made up their minds to return to England.
+
+"I hope they intend to take their silver away with them," said the
+manager when Kate told him.
+
+She replied with a laugh, "Oh yes, I don't believe aunt would think life
+worth living if she had not her silver with her."
+
+Poor Aunt Grieves! the vessel she travelled by had to be abandoned
+before it reached England, and the silver she had suffered so much for
+lies buried in the sands of the deep.
+
+As for Kate, she subsequently took Philip Wentworth into partnership,
+and he gave her his name.
+
+
+
+
+BILLJIM.
+
+BY S. LE SOTGILLE.
+
+
+Nestling in the scrub at the head of a gully running into the Newanga
+was a typical Australian humpy. It was built entirely of bark. Roof,
+back, front, and sides were huge sheets of stringy bark, and the window
+shutters were of the same, the windows themselves being sheets of
+calico; also the two doors were whole sheets of bark swung upon leathern
+hinges.
+
+The humpy was divided into three rooms, two bedrooms and a general room.
+The "galley" was just outside, a three-sided, roofed arrangement, and
+the ubiquitous bark figured in that adjunct of civilisation.
+
+In springtime the roof and sides of this humpy were one huge blaze of
+Bougainvillaea, and not a vestige of bark was visible. It was surrounded
+by a paling fence, rough split bush palings only, but in every way
+fitted for what they were intended to do--that is, keep out animals of
+all descriptions.
+
+In the front garden were flowers of every conceivable hue and variety,
+from the flaring giant sunflower to the quiet retiring geranium, and
+stuck to old logs and standing dead timber were several beautiful
+orchids of different varieties. Violets, pansies, fuchsias and
+nasturtiums bordered the walks in true European fashion, and one
+wondered who had taken all this trouble in so outlandish a spot.
+
+At the back of the humpy rose the Range sheer fifteen hundred feet with
+huge granite boulders, twice the size of the humpy itself, standing
+straight out from the side of the Range, giving one the idea that they
+were merely stuck there in some mysterious manner, and were ready at a
+moment's notice to come tumbling down, overwhelming every one and
+everything in their descent.
+
+On the other three sides was scrub. Dense tropical scrub for miles,
+giving out a muggy disagreeable heat, and that peculiar overpowering
+smell common, I think, to all tropical growth. No one could have chosen
+a better spot than this if his desire were to escape entirely from the
+busy world and live a quiet sequestered life amongst the countless
+beautiful gifts that Dame Nature seems so lavish of in the hundred nooks
+and corners of the mountainous portion of Australia. In this humpy,
+then, hidden from the world in general, and known only to a few miners
+and prospectors, lived Dick Benson, his wife, and their daughter
+Billjim. That is what she was called, anyway, by all the diggers on the
+Newanga. It wasn't her name, of course. She was registered at Clagton
+Court House as Katherine Veronica Benson, but no one in all the district
+thought of calling her Kitty now, and as for Veronica--well, it was too
+much to ask of any one, let alone a rough bushman.
+
+The name Billjim she practically chose herself.
+
+One evening a digger named Jack L'Estrange, a great friend of the
+Bensons, was reading an article from the _Bulletin_ to her father, and
+Kitty, as she was then called, was whiling away the time by pulling his
+moustache, an occupation which interfered somewhat with the reading, but
+which was allowed to pass without serious rebuke.
+
+In this article the paper spoke of backblocks bushmen under the generic
+soubriquet of Billjim. And a very good name too, for in any up-country
+town one has but to sing out "Bill" or "Jim" to have an answer from
+three-fourths of the male population.
+
+The name tickled Kitty immensely, and she chuckled, "Billjim! Billjim!
+Oh, I'd like to be called that."
+
+"Would you though?" asked her father, smiling.
+
+"Yes," answered Kitty; "it's a fine name, Billjim."
+
+"Well, we will call you Billjim in future," said Dick; and from that day
+the name stuck to her. And it suited her.
+
+She was the wildest of wild bush girls. At twelve years old she could
+ride and shoot as well as most of us, and would pan out a prospect with
+any man on the Newanga.
+
+She had never been to school, there being none nearer than Clagton,
+which was some fifteen miles away, but she had been taught the simple
+arts of reading and writing by her mother, and Jack L'Estrange had
+ministered to her wants in the matter of arithmetic.
+
+With all her wildness she was a good, kindly girl, materially helping
+her mother in the household matters, and all that flower garden was her
+special charge and delight.
+
+Wednesday and Thursday of every week were holidays, and those two days
+were spent by Billjim in roaming the country far and wide. Sometimes on
+horseback, when a horse could be borrowed, but mostly on her own
+well-formed feet.
+
+She would wander off with a shovel and a dish into the scrub, and,
+following up some gully all day, would return at night tired out and
+happy, and generally with two or three grains of gold to show for her
+day's work. Sometimes she would come back laden with some new orchid,
+and this she would carefully fix in the garden in a position as similar
+as possible to that in which she had found it, and usually it would
+blossom there as if it were thankful at being so well cared for.
+
+When Billjim wasn't engaged making her pocket-money, as she termed it,
+her days would be spent with Jack L'Estrange.
+
+Jack was a fine, strapping young fellow of twenty-three, and was doing
+as well on the Newanga as any. Since the day he had snatched Billjim
+(then a wee mite) from the jaws of an alligator, as Queensland folk will
+insist upon calling their crocodile, he had been _l'ami de la maison_ at
+the Bensons', and Billjim thought there was no one in the world like
+him. He in return would do any mortal thing which that rather capricious
+young lady desired.
+
+One evening, when they were all sitting chatting round the fire in the
+galley, Benson said:
+
+"Don't you think, Jack, that Billjim ought to go to some decent school?
+The missus and me of course ain't no scholars, but now that we can
+afford it we'd like Billjim to learn proper, you know."
+
+Jack looked at Billjim, who had nestled up closer to him during this
+speech, and was on the point of answering in the negative, when less
+selfish thoughts entered his head, and he replied:
+
+"Well, Dick, much against my inclination, I must say that I think she
+ought to go. You see," he continued, turning to Billjim and taking her
+hand, "it's this way. We should all miss you, lass, very much, but it's
+for your own good. You must know more than we here can teach you if you
+wish to be any good to your father and mother."
+
+Billjim nodded and looked at him, and Jack had to turn his eyes away and
+speak to Mrs. Benson for fear of going back on his words.
+
+"You see, Mrs. Benson," said Jack, "it wouldn't be for long, for Billjim
+would learn very quickly with good teachers, and be of great use to you
+when Dick makes that pile."
+
+Mrs. Benson smiled in spite of herself when Jack mentioned "that pile."
+Dick had been going to strike it rich up there on the Newanga for over
+seven years, and the fortune hadn't come yet.
+
+"I suppose you're right," she said, "and I'm sure Billjim will be a good
+girl and study quick to get back. Won't you, lass?"
+
+"Yes'm," answered Billjim, with a reservoir of tears in her voice, but
+none in her eyes. She wouldn't have cried with Jack there for the world!
+
+So after a lot of talking it was settled, and Billjim departed for
+school, and the humpy knew her no more for four long years.
+
+Ah! what a dreary, dreary time that was to Mrs. Benson and Dick. Jack
+kept her flower garden going for all those years, and Snowy, her dog,
+lived down at his camp. These had been Billjim's last commands.
+
+Dick worked away manfully looking for that pile, and succeeded passing
+well, as the account at Clagton Bank could show, but there was no
+alteration made at the "Nest," as the humpy was designated.
+
+Jack passed most of his evenings up there, and on mail days was in great
+request to read Billjim's epistles out loud.
+
+No matter who was there, those letters were read out, and some of us who
+knew Billjim well passed encouraging remarks about her improvement, etc.
+
+We all missed her, for she had been used to paying periodical flying
+visits, and her face had always seemed to us like a bright gleam of
+sunshine breaking through that steaming, muggy, damp scrub.
+
+One mail day, four years very near to the day after Billjim's departure,
+the usual letter was read out, and part of it ran so:
+
+"Oh, mum dear, do let me come back now. I am sure I have learned enough,
+and oh! how I long for a sight of you and dad, and dear old Jack and
+Frenchy, and Jim Travers, and all of you in fact. Let me come, oh! do
+let me come back."
+
+Upon my word, I believe there was a break in Jack's voice as he read.
+Mrs. Benson was crying peacefully, and Dick and French were blowing
+their noses in an offensive and boisterous manner.
+
+A motion was put and carried forthwith that Billjim should return at
+once. Newanga couldn't go on another month like this. Quite absurd to
+think of it.
+
+The letter was dispatched telling Billjim of the joyful news, and
+settling accounts with the good sisters who had sheltered and cared for
+her so long.
+
+Great were the preparations for Dick's journey to the coast to meet her
+when the time came. So great was the excitement that a newcomer thought
+some great reef had been struck, and followed several of us about for
+days trying to discover its location and get his pegs in!
+
+Every one wanted to lend something for Billjim's comfort on the journey
+out. No lady's saddle was there in all the camp, and great was Dick's
+trouble thereat, until Frenchy rigged his saddle up with a bit of wood
+wrapped round with a piece of blanket, which, firmly fixed to the front
+dees, did duty for a horn.
+
+"It's a great idea, Frenchy," said Dick; "but, lord, I'd ha' sent her
+the money for one if I'd only ha' thought of it, but, bless you, I was
+thinking of her as a little girl yet."
+
+'Twas a great day entirely, as Micky the Rat put it, when Billjim came
+home.
+
+Every digger for miles round left work and made a bee-line from his
+claim to the road, and patiently waited there to get a hand-shake and a
+smile from their friend Billjim, and they all got both, and went back
+very grateful and very refreshed.
+
+Billjim had turned into a pretty woman in those four years, and I think
+every one was somewhat staggered by it.
+
+Jack L'Estrange's first meeting with his one-time playmate was at the
+Nest, and it so threw Jack off his balance that he was practically
+maudlin for a week after the event.
+
+When he entered the door he stood at first spell-bound at the change in
+his favourite, then he said:
+
+"Why, Bill--er Kate, I.... 'Pon my word, I don't know what to say. Oh,
+Christopher! you know this is comical; I came up here intending to kiss
+my little friend Billjim, and I find you grown into a beautiful woman."
+
+"Kiss me, Jack?" broke in Billjim; "kiss me? Why, I'm going to hug you!"
+And she did, and Jack blushed to the roots of his curly golden hair, and
+was confused all the evening over it.
+
+The four years' schooling had not changed Billjim one iota as far as
+character went. She was the identical Billjim grown big and grown
+pretty, that was all.
+
+But something was to happen which was to turn the wild tom-boy into a
+serious woman, and it happened shortly after her return home.
+
+It was mail night up at the Nest, and Jack L'Estrange was absent from
+the crowd that invariably spent an hour or two getting their mail and
+discussing items of grave interest. Being mail night, Jack's absence was
+naturally noticed, and every one made some remark about it.
+
+However, old Dick said: "Oh, Jack's struck some good thing, I suppose,
+and got back to camp too late to come up. He'll come in the morning
+likely."
+
+This seemed to satisfy every one save Billjim. She turned to Frenchy,
+and said:
+
+"Do you know whereabouts Jack was working lately?"
+
+"Yes," answered Frenchy. "He was working at the two mile, day before
+yesterday, so I suppose he's there yet."
+
+"Yes," said Billjim, "I suppose he will be." But Billjim wasn't
+satisfied. When every one was asleep she was out, and knowing the scrub
+thoroughly, was over to Jack's camp in a quarter of an hour. Not finding
+Jack there, she made for the two mile with all speed, for something told
+her she knew not what. An undefinable feeling that something was wrong
+came across her. She saw Jack lying crushed and bleeding and no one
+there to help him! Do what she would, dry, choking sobs burst from her
+tight-closed lips as she scrambled along over boulders and through the
+thick scrub. Brambles, wait-a-bit vines, and berry bushes scratched and
+stung her, and switched across her face, leaving bleeding and livid
+marks on her tender skin. But she pushed on and on in the fitful
+moonlight through the dense undergrowth, making a straight line for the
+two mile.
+
+Arrived there, she stopped for breath for a while, and then sent forth a
+long "Coo-ie." No answer. "I was right," thought Billjim, "he is hurt.
+My God! he may be dead out here, while we were there chatting and
+laughing as usual. Oh, Jack, Jack!"
+
+Up the gully she sped, from one abandoned working to another, over
+rocks and stones, into water-holes, with no thought for herself. At
+last, there, huddled up against the bank, with a huge boulder pinning
+one leg to the ground, lay poor Jack L'Estrange.
+
+Billjim's first impression was that he was dead, he looked so limp and
+white out in the open there with the moon shining on his face, but when
+her accustomed courage returned she stooped over him and found him
+alive, but unconscious.
+
+She bathed his temples with water, murmuring:
+
+"Jack dear, wake up. Oh, my own lad, wake up and tell me what to do."
+
+Jack opened his eyes at last, as if her soft crooning had reached his
+numbed senses.
+
+"Halloa, Billjim," he said faintly. "Is that you or a dream?"
+
+"It's me, Jack," replied Billjim, flinging school talk to the four
+winds. "It's me. What can I do? How can I help? Are you suffering much?"
+
+"Well," said Jack, "you can't shift that boulder, that's certain, for
+I've tried until I went off. It's not paining now much, seems numbed. Do
+you think you could fetch the boys? Get Frenchy especially; he knows
+something about bandaging and that. It's a case with the leg, I think."
+
+"All right, dear," said Billjim; and the "dear" slipped out unawares,
+but she went on hurriedly to cover the slip: "Yes, I'll get Frenchy and
+Travers, Tate and Micky the Rat; they all live close together. You won't
+faint again, Jack, will you? See, I'll leave this pannikin here with
+water. Keep up your pecker, we shan't be long," and she was gone to hide
+the tears in her eyes, and the choke in her voice. "It's a case with the
+leg" was too much for her.
+
+She was at Frenchy's camp in a very short time. Frenchy was at his fire,
+dreaming. When he saw who his visitor was he was startled, to say the
+least of it.
+
+"What, Billjim the Beautiful? At this hour of night? Why, what in the
+name of...?" were his incoherent ejaculations.
+
+And Billjim for the first time in that eventful night really gave way.
+She sat down and sobbed out:
+
+"Oh, Frenchy.... Come.... Poor Jack.... Two mile ... crushed and
+bleeding to death, Frenchy.... I saw the blood oozing out.... Oh, dear
+me!... Get the boys ... come...."
+
+Frenchy's only answer was a long, melodious howl, which was promptly
+re-echoed from right and left and far away back in the scrub, and from
+all sides forms hurried up clad in all sorts of strange night costumes.
+
+Some shrank back into the shadows again on seeing a woman sitting at the
+fire sobbing, but one and all as they hurried up asked:
+
+"What's up? Niggers?"
+
+They were told, and each hurried back for clothes. Frenchy got his
+bandages together, and fetched his bunk out of his tent.
+
+"We'll take this," he said; "it's as far from Jack's camp to the two
+mile as it is from here. Now then, Billjim, off we go."
+
+Her followers had to keep moving to keep near her, loaded as they were,
+but at last they arrived at the scene of Jack's disaster.
+
+Jack was conscious when they arrived, and Frenchy whipped out a brandy
+flask and put it in Billjim's hand, saying:
+
+"Give him a dose every now and again while we mend matters. Sit down
+there facing him. That's right. Now, chaps!"
+
+With a will the great piece of granite was moved from off the crushed
+and bleeding limb. With deft fingers Frenchy had the trouser leg ripped
+up above the knee, and then appeared a horribly crushed, shattered
+thigh. Frenchy shook his head dolefully. "Any one got a small penknife?
+Ivory or smooth-handled one for preference," he demanded.
+
+"You're not going to cut him?" queried Billjim, without turning her
+head.
+
+"No, no," said Frenchy; "I want it to put against the vein and stop this
+bleeding. That'll do nicely," as Travers handed him a knife. "Sit
+tight, Jack, I must hurt you now."
+
+"Go ahead," said Jack uneasily; "but don't be longer than you can help,"
+and he caught hold of Billjim's hand and remained like that, quiet and
+sensible, while Frenchy put a ligature round the injured limb and
+bandaged it up as well as was possible.
+
+"Now, mates," he said, as he finished, "this is a case for Clagton and
+the doctor at once. No good one going in and fetching the doctor out,
+it's waste of time, and then he mightn't be able to do anything. So we
+must pack him on that stretcher and carry him in. Everybody willing?"
+
+Aye, of course they were, though they knew they had fifteen miles to
+carry a heavy man over gullies and rocks and through scrub and forest.
+
+So Jack was carefully placed on the stretcher.
+
+"Now you had better get home, Billjim, and tell them what has happened,"
+said Frenchy.
+
+"No, no, I won't," said Billjim; "I'm going with you;" and go she did,
+of course, holding Jack's hand all the way, and administering small
+doses of brandy whenever she was ordered. "La Vivandiere," as Frenchy
+remarked, sotto voce, "but with a heart! Grand Dieu, with what a heart!"
+
+It was a great sight to see that gallant little band carrying twelve
+stone of helpless humanity in the moonlight.
+
+Through scrub, over rocks and gullies, and through weird white gum
+forest, and no sound but the laboured breathing of the bearers. There
+were twelve of them, and they carried four and four about, those fifteen
+miles.
+
+Never a groan out of the poor fellow up aloft there, though he must have
+suffered agonies when any one stumbled, which was bound to occur pretty
+often in that dim light.
+
+Slowly but surely they covered the distance, and just as day began to
+dawn they reached the doctor's house at Clagton.
+
+In a very little time Jack was lying on a couch in the surgery.
+
+After some questions the doctor said:
+
+"Too weak. Can't do anything just now."
+
+"It's a case, I suppose?" asked Frenchy.
+
+"Yes," said the doctor; "amputation, of course, and I have no one here
+to help me. Stay, though! Who bandaged him?"
+
+"I did," answered Frenchy; "I learnt that in hospitals, you know."
+
+"Oh, well," said the doctor, quite relieved, "you'll do to help me. Go
+and get a little sleep, and come this afternoon."
+
+"Right you are," said Frenchy. "Come on, Billjim. Can't do any good here
+just now. I'll take you to Mother Slater's."
+
+Billjim gave one look at Jack, who nodded and smiled, and then went away
+with Frenchy.
+
+For three weeks after the operation Jack L'Estrange lay hovering on the
+brink of the great chasm. Then he began to mend and get well rapidly.
+
+Billjim was in constant attendance from the day she was allowed to see
+him, and the doctor said, in fact, that but for her care and attention
+there would probably have been no more Jack.
+
+Great was the rejoicing at the Nest when Jack reappeared, and the
+rejoicing turned to enthusiasm when it was discovered that there was a
+mutual understanding come to between Billjim and the crippled miner.
+
+Micky the Rat prophesied great things, but said:
+
+"Faix, 'tis a distressful thing entirely to see a fine gurrl like that
+wid a husband an' he wed on wan leg. 'Twas mesilf Billjim should ha'
+tuk, no less."
+
+But we all knew Micky the Rat, you see.
+
+The wedding-day will never be forgotten by those who were on the Newanga
+at the time.
+
+The event came off at Clagton, and everybody was there. No invitations
+were issued. None were needed. The town came, and the miners from far
+and near, _en masse_.
+
+Those who couldn't get a seat squatted in true bush fashion with their
+wide-brimmed hats in their hands, and listened attentively to the
+service; a lot of them never having entered a church door in their lives
+before.
+
+At the feast, before the newly married couple took their departure,
+everybody was made welcome. It was a great time.
+
+Old Dick got up to make a speech, and failed ignominiously. He looked at
+Billjim for inspiration. She was just the identical person he shouldn't
+have looked at, for thoughts of the Nest without Billjim again rose
+before him, and those thoughts settled him, so he sat down again without
+uttering a word.
+
+Jack said something, almost inaudible, about seeking a fortune and
+finding one, which was prettily put, and Frenchy as best man was heard
+to mutter something about "Beautiful ... loss to camp ... happiness ...
+wooden leg," and the speech making was over.
+
+At the send off much rice flew about, and as the buggy drove off, an old
+dilapidated iron-shod miner's boot was found dangling on the rear axle
+of that conveyance.
+
+That was Micky the Rat's parting shot at Jack for carrying Billjim away.
+
+Clagton was a veritable London for that night only. You couldn't throw a
+stone without hitting some one, and as a rule an artillery battery could
+have practised for hours in the main street without hitting any one or
+anything, barring perhaps a stray dog.
+
+Things calmed down at last, however, and when the newly married returned
+and, adding to the Nest, lived there with the old couple, every one was
+satisfied. "Billjim" remained "Billjim" to all of us, and when a
+stranger expresses surprise at that, Billjim simply says, "Ah! but you
+see we are all mates here, aren't we, Jack?"
+
+
+
+
+IN THE WORLD OF FAERY.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGENDS OF LANGAFFER.
+
+BY MADAME ARMAND CAUMONT.
+
+
+I.
+
+THE TINY FOLK OF LANGAFFER.
+
+
+Langaffer was but a village in those days, with a brook running through
+it, a bridge, a market-place, a score of houses, and a church.
+
+It may have become a city since, and may have changed its name. We
+cannot tell. All we know is, that the curious things we are about to
+relate took place a long time ago, before there was any mention of
+railroads or gaslamps, or any of the modern inventions people have
+nowadays.
+
+There was one cottage quite in the middle of the village, much smaller,
+cleaner, and neater than its neighbours. The little couple who lived in
+it were known over the country, far and wide, as "Wattie and Mattie, the
+tiny folk of Langaffer."
+
+These two had gone and got married, if you please, when they were quite
+young, without asking anybody's advice or permission. Whereupon their
+four parents and their eight grandparents sternly disowned them; and the
+Fairy of the land, highly displeased, declared the two should remain
+tiny, as a punishment for their folly.
+
+Yet they loved one another very tenderly, Wattie and Mattie; and, as the
+years rolled by, and never a harsh word was heard between them, and
+peace and unity reigned in their diminutive household--which could not
+always have been said of their parents' and grandparents'
+firesides--why, then the neighbours began to remark that they were a
+good little couple; and the Fairy of the land declared that if they
+could but distinguish themselves in some way, or perform some great
+action, they might be allowed to grow up after all.
+
+"But how could we ever do a great deed?" said Wattie to Mattie,
+laughing. "Look at the size of us! I defy any man in the village, with
+an arm only the length of mine, to do more than I! Of course I can't
+measure myself with the neighbours. To handle Farmer Fairweather's
+pitchfork would break my back, and to hook a great perch, like Miller
+Mealy, in the mill-race, might be the capsizing of me. Still, what does
+that matter? I can catch little sprats for my little wife's dinner; I
+can dig in our patch of garden, and mend our tiny roof, so that we live
+as cosily and as merrily as the best of them."
+
+"To be sure, Wattie dear!" said Mattie. "And what would become of poor
+me supposing thou wert any bigger? As it is, I can bake the little
+loaves thou lovest to eat, and I can spin and knit enough for us both.
+But, oh, dear! wert thou the size of Farmer Fairweather or Miller Mealy,
+my heart would break."
+
+In truth the little couple had made many attempts at pushing their
+fortune in the village; and had failed, because it was no easy problem
+to find a trade to suit poor Wattie. A friendly cobbler had taught him
+how to make boots and shoes, new soling and mending; and he once had the
+courage to suspend over his door the sign of a shoemaker's shop. Then
+the good wives of Langaffer did really give him orders for tiny slippers
+for their little ones to toddle about in. But, alas! ere the work was
+completed and sent home, the little feet had got time to trot about a
+good deal, and had far outgrown the brand-new shoes; and poor Wattie
+acquired the character of a tardy tradesman. "So shoemaking won't do,"
+he had said to Mattie. "If only the other folk would remain as little as
+we are!"
+
+In spite of this, Wattie and Mattie not only continued to be liked by
+their neighbours, but in time grew to be highly respected by all who
+knew them. Wattie could talk a great deal, and could give a reason for
+everything; and his dwarf figure might be seen of an evening sitting on
+the edge of the bridge wall, surrounded by a group of village worthies,
+whilst his shrill little voice rose high above theirs, discussing the
+affairs of Langaffer. And little Mattie was the very echo of little
+Wattie. What _he_ said _she_ repeated on his authority in many a
+half-hour's gossip with the good wives by the village well.
+
+Now it happened that one day the homely community of Langaffer was
+startled by sudden and alarming tidings. A traveller, hastening on foot
+through the village, asked the first person he met, "What news of the
+war?"
+
+"What war?" returned the simple peasant in some surprise.
+
+"Why, have you really heard nothing of the great armies marching about
+all over the country, attacking, besieging and fighting in pitched
+battles--the king and all his knights and soldiers against the enemies
+of the country--ah, and it is not over yet! But I wonder to find all so
+tranquil here in the midst of such troublous times!" And then the
+stranger passed on; and his words fell on the peaceful hamlet like a
+stone thrown into the bosom of a tranquil lake.
+
+At once there was a general commotion and excitement among the village
+folk. "Could the news be true? How dreadful if the enemy were indeed to
+come and burn down their homesteads, and ravage their crops, and kill
+them every one with their swords!"
+
+That night the gossip lasted a long time on Langaffer Bridge. Wattie's
+friends, the miller and the grocer, the tailor and the shoemaker, and
+big Farmer Fairweather spoke highly of the king and his faithful
+knights, and clenched their fists, and raised their voices to an angry
+pitch at the mention of the enemy's name. And little Wattie behaved like
+the rest of them, strutted about, and doubled up his tiny hands, and
+proclaimed what he should do if Langaffer were attacked--and "if he were
+only a little bigger!" Whereupon the neighbours laughed and held their
+sides, and cried aloud, "Well done, Wattie!"
+
+But the following evening brought more serious tidings. Shortly before
+nightfall a rider, mounted on a sweltering steed, arrived at the village
+inn, all out of breath, to announce that the army was advancing, and
+that the General of the Forces called upon every householder in
+Langaffer to furnish food and lodging for the soldiers.
+
+"What! _Soldiers_ quartered on us!" cried the good people of Langaffer.
+"Who ever heard the like?"
+
+"They shall not come to _my_ house!" exclaimed Farmer Fairweather
+resolutely.
+
+"Oh, neighbour Fairweather!" shouted half a dozen voices, "and thou hast
+such barns and lofts, and such very fine stables, and cowsheds, thou art
+the very one who canst easily harbour the soldiers."
+
+"As for _me_," cried the miller, "I have barely room for my meal-sacks!"
+
+"Oh, plenty of room!" screamed the others, "and flour to make bread for
+the troopers, and bran for the horses!"
+
+"But it falls very hard on poor people like us!" cried the weaver, the
+tinker, the cobbler and tailor; upon which little Wattie raised his
+voice and began, "Shame on ye, good neighbours! Do ye grudge hospitality
+to the warriors who go forth to shed their blood in our defence? Every
+man, who has strength of body and limb, ought to feel it an honour to
+afford food and shelter to the army of the land!"
+
+"_Thy_ advice is cheap, Wattie!" cried several voices sarcastically,
+"thou and thy tiny wife escape all this trouble finely. For the general
+would as soon dream of quartering a soldier on dwarfs as on the sparrows
+that live on the housetops!"
+
+"And what if we are small," retorted Wattie, waxing scarlet, "we have
+never shirked from our duty yet, and never intend to do so."
+
+This boast of the little man's had the effect of silencing some of the
+most dissatisfied; and then the people of Langaffer dispersed for the
+night, every head being full of the morrow's preparations.
+
+"Eh, Wattie dear," said Mattie to her husband, when the two were
+retiring to sleep in their cosy little house, "we may bless ourselves
+this night that we are not reckoned amongst the big people, and that our
+cottage is so small no full-grown stranger would try to enter it."
+
+"But we must do something, Mattie dear," said Wattie. "You can watch the
+women washing and cooking all day to-morrow, whilst I encourage the men
+in the market-place and on the bridge. These are great times, Mattie!"
+
+"Indeed they are, Wattie dear." And so saying, the little couple fell
+fast asleep.
+
+The following morning Langaffer village presented a lively picture of
+bustle and excitement. Soldiers in gaudy uniforms, and with gay-coloured
+banners waving in the breeze, marched in to the sound of trumpet and
+drum. How their spears and helmets glittered in the sunshine, and what a
+neighing and prancing their steeds made in the little market-square! The
+men and women turned out to receive them, the children clapped their
+hands with delight, and the village geese cackled loudly to add to the
+stir.
+
+Wattie was there looking on, with his hands in his pockets. But nobody
+heeded him now. They were all too busy, running here, running there,
+hastening to and fro, carrying long-swords and shields, holding horses'
+heads, stamping, tramping, scolding and jesting. Little Wattie was more
+than once told to stand aside, and more than once got pushed about and
+mixed up with the throng of idle children, whose juvenile curiosity kept
+them spell-bound, stationed near the village inn.
+
+Wattie began to feel lonely in the midst of the commotion. A humiliating
+sense of his own weakness and uselessness crept over him; and the poor
+little dwarf turned away from it all, and wandered out of the village,
+far away through the meadows, and into a lonely wood.
+
+On and on he went, unconscious of the distance, till night closed in,
+when, heartsick and weary, he flung his little body down at the foot of
+a majestic oak, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+He had not lain long when he was startled by a sound close at hand; a
+sigh, much deeper than his own, and a half-suppressed moan--what could
+it be?
+
+In an instant Wattie was on his feet, peering to right and left, trying
+to discover whence those signs of distress proceeded.
+
+The moon had just risen, and by her pale light he fancied he saw
+something glitter among the dried leaves of the forest. Cautiously
+little Wattie crept closer; and there, to his astonishment, lay extended
+the form of a knight in armour. He rested on his elbow, and his head was
+supported by his arm, and his face, which was uncovered, wore an
+expression of sadness and anxiety. He gazed with an air of calm dignity
+rather than surprise on the dwarf, when the latter, after walking once
+or twice round him, cried out, "Noble knight, noble knight, pray what is
+your grief, and can I do aught to relieve it? Say, wherefore these
+groans and sighs?"
+
+"Foes and traitors, sorrow and shame!" returned the warrior. "But tell
+me, young man, canst thou show me the road to Langaffer?"
+
+"That I can, noble sir," answered Wattie, impressed by the stranger's
+tone. "Do I not dwell in Langaffer myself!"
+
+"Then perhaps, young man, thou knowest the Castle of Ravenspur?"
+
+"The ruined tower of Count Colin of Ravenspur!" cried Wattie, "why, that
+is close to Langaffer. Our village folk call it 'the fortress' still,
+although wild and dismantled since the time it was forsaken by----"
+
+"Name not Count Colin to me!" cried the knight, impatiently. "The base
+traitor that left his own land to join hands with the enemy! His sable
+plume shall ne'er again wave in his own castle-yard!... But come,
+hasten, young man, and guide me straight to Ravenspur. Our men, you say,
+are encamped at Langaffer?"
+
+"That they are," returned Wattie; "well-nigh every house is filled with
+them. They arrived in high spirits this morning; and doubtless, by this
+time, are sleeping as heavily as they were carousing an hour ago."
+
+"All the better," cried the knight, "for it will be a different sort of
+sleep some of them may have ere the morrow's setting sun glints through
+the stems of these forest trees! And now, let us hasten to Ravenspur."
+
+So saying, he drew himself up to his full height, lifted his sword from
+the ground and hung it on his side, and strode away with Wattie, looking
+all the while like a great giant in company of a puny dwarf.
+
+As they emerged from the forest Wattie pointed with his finger across
+the plain to the village of Langaffer, and then to a hill overhanging
+it, crowned by a fortress which showed in the distance its chiselled
+outlines against the evening sky. An hour's marching across the country
+brought them close to the dismantled castle. The moonbeams depicted
+every grey stone overgrown with moss and ivy, and the rank weeds choking
+the apertures which once had been windows.
+
+"An abode for the bat and the owl," remarked Wattie, "but, brave sir,
+you cannot pass the night here. Pray--pray come to my tiny house in the
+village, and rest there till the morning dawns."
+
+"I accept thy hospitality, young man," said the warrior, "but first thou
+canst render me a service. Thou art little and light. Canst clamber up
+to yonder stone where the raven sits, and tell me what thou beholdest
+far away to the west?" Whereupon Wattie, who was agile enough, and
+anxious to help the stranger, began to climb up, stone by stone, the
+outer wall of the ruined fortress. A larger man might have felt giddy
+and insecure; but he, with his tiny figure, sprang from ledge to ledge
+so swiftly, holding firmly by the tufts of grass and the trailing ivy,
+that ere he had time to think of danger, he had reached the spot where,
+a moment before, a grim-looking raven had been keeping solemn custody.
+Here the stone moved, and Wattie fancied he heard something rattle as he
+set his foot upon it. The raven had now perched herself on a yet higher
+eminence, on a piece of the old coping-stone of the castle parapet; and
+she flapped her great ugly wings, and cawed and croaked, as if
+displeased at this intrusion on her solitude. Wattie followed the
+ill-omened bird, and drove her away from her vantage-ground, where he
+himself now found a better footing from which to make his observations.
+
+"To the west," he cried, "lights like camp-fires, all in a row far
+against the horizon!"
+
+This was all he had to describe; and it seemed enough to satisfy the
+armed stranger.
+
+"And now, young man," he said, when Wattie had, after a perilous
+descent, gained the castle-yard once more, "I shall be thy guest for the
+night."
+
+A thrill of pride and pleasure stole through Wattie's breast as he
+thought of the honour of receiving the tall warrior. But the next
+instant his heart was filled with anxiety as he remembered the tiny
+dimensions of his home, Mattie and himself.
+
+All these hours his little wife had passed in sore perplexity because of
+his absence. At the accustomed time for supper she had spread the
+snow-white napkin on the stool that served them for a table. She had
+piled up a saucerful of beef and lentils for Wattie, and filled him an
+egg-cupful of home-brewed ale to the brim. And yet he never came!
+
+What could ever have happened? A tiny little person like Wattie might
+have been trampled to death in the crowd of great soldiers that now
+filled Langaffer! A horse's kick at the village inn might have killed
+him! He might have been pushed into the stream and been drowned. Oh, the
+horrible fancies that vaguely hovered round poor Mattie's fireside! No
+wonder the little woman sat there with her face pale as ashes, her teeth
+chattering, and her tiny hands clasped tightly together.
+
+And thus Wattie found her when he returned at last, bringing the
+stranger knight along with him. But Mattie was so overjoyed to see her
+Wattie safe home, and held her arms so tightly round his neck, that he
+could scarcely get his story told.
+
+Little indeed did the good people of Langaffer, that night, asleep in
+their beds, dream of the great doings under the modest roof of Wattie
+and Mattie; all the furniture they possessed drawn out and joined
+together, and covered with the whole household stock of mattresses,
+quilts and blankets, to form a couch for their guest's repose.
+
+The knight had eaten all Mattie's store of newly-baked bread, and now
+only begged for a few hours' rest, and a little more water to quench his
+thirst when he should waken. As he took off his helmet with its great
+white plume, and handed it to Wattie, the latter staggered under its
+weight, and Mattie cried out, "Oh, Wattie, how beautiful, how noble it
+must be to ride o'er hill and dale in such a gallant armour!"
+
+Then thrice to the Fairy Well in the meadow beyond the bridge of
+Langaffer must Wattie and Mattie run to fetch water, the best in the
+land, clear as crystal, and cold as ice; for it required fully three
+times what they could carry to fill the great stone pitcher for the
+sleeping warrior.
+
+And the third time the two came to the spring, behold, the water bubbled
+and flashed with the colours of the rainbow, and by the light of the
+moon they caught a glimpse of something bright reflected on its surface.
+They glanced round, and there a lovely, radiant being sat by, with a
+tiny phial in her hand.
+
+"Hold here, little people!" she cried, "let me drop some cordial into
+the pitcher."
+
+"Nay, nay!" screamed Mattie.
+
+"Nay!" cried Wattie sternly, "the drink must be as pure as crystal."
+
+"For your noble warrior," added the fairy rising; "but the beverage will
+taste the sweeter with the drops that I put into it." And so saying, she
+stretched forth her hand, and shook the contents of her tiny flask into
+the pitcher; and her gay laugh rang merrily and scornfully through the
+midnight air.
+
+Wattie and Mattie, half-frightened, hastened homewards; and lo, when
+crossing the bridge, an old hag overtook them, and, as she hurried past,
+she uttered a spiteful laugh.
+
+"There is something strange in the air to-night," said Mattie. "See that
+weird old woman, and hark, Wattie, how Oscar, the miller's dog, barks at
+the moon."
+
+"Mattie," cried Wattie resolutely, "let us empty our pitcher into the
+mill-race, and go back once again, and draw afresh! 'Tis safer."
+
+So the tiny couple, weary and worn out as they were, trudged all the way
+to the Fairy Well once more to "make sure" that the stranger knight
+should come to no harm through their fault.
+
+And this time the water flowed clear and cold, but with no varied tints
+flashing through it. Only Wattie seemed to hear the stream rushing over
+the pebbles like a soft, lisping voice. "Hush! listen! what does it
+say?"
+
+"To me," cried Mattie, "it whispers, 'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' But
+that has no sense, Wattie dear. Come, let us go!"
+
+"And to me the same!" cried Wattie, "'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' That
+means something."
+
+It was now early dawn as the two passed over the bridge and by the
+miller's house, and they could see the fish floating _dead_ on the
+surface of the mill-race, and poor Oscar the dog lying stretched on the
+bank, with his tongue hanging out stiff and cold. And silently wondering
+at all these strange things the little couple finished their task.
+
+When the hour of noon arrived, the din of battle raged wild and fierce
+round the village of Langaffer. The enemies of the land had arrived from
+the west with false Colin at their head, and were met by the soldiers in
+the plain, below the Castle of Ravenspur. With a loud war-cry on either
+side foe rushed upon foe, and the fight began. Horsemen reeled over and
+tumbled from their chargers, blood flowed freely on every side, shrieks
+rent the air; but the strength of the combatants appeared equal. At last
+Count Colin and his men pressed closer on the royal army, and forced
+them back by degrees towards Langaffer.
+
+It seemed now that the enemy's troops were gaining; and groans of
+despair broke forth from the villagers and countryfolk who watched with
+throbbing hearts the issue of the day.
+
+At this moment the knight who had been little Wattie's guest dashed
+forward, mounted on a snow-white charger, his armour of polished steel
+glistening, and his fair plume waving in the sunshine.
+
+"Back with the faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the
+traitor!" he cried, and rode to the front rank himself.
+
+His word and action wrought like an enchantment on the soldiers. They
+rallied round the white-plumed stranger, who soon was face to face with
+false Colin. And then the hostile bands, with their rebel commander,
+were in turn driven back, and back, and back across the plain, and right
+under the beetling towers of the fortress of Ravenspur.
+
+Now Wattie was standing near the ruin, and saw the combat, and heard the
+sounds of the warriors' voices reverberating from the bend of the hill.
+How his heart bounded at the brave knight's battle-cry: "_Back with the
+faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the traitor!_" And then
+indeed the blood seemed to stand still in his veins when he heard false
+Colin exclaim, "Oh, had I the silver sword of Ravenspur!"
+
+Ah! Wattie remembered the raven, and the one loose stone in the castle
+wall.
+
+In another instant his tiny figure was grappling with the trailing ivy
+on the outer fencework of the fortress.
+
+And now he is seen by false Colin, and now the archers bend their bows,
+and the arrows fly past him on every side. But Wattie has hurled down a
+stone into the old courtyard, and, from behind it, has drawn forth a
+silver-hilted brand.
+
+"He is so small that our arrows all miss him!" cry the archers. "Nay,"
+cries false Colin, "but he bears the enchanted weapon of Ravenspur! Take
+it from him, my men, and fetch it to me."
+
+"Count Colin shall have the _point_ of the sword," cries Wattie, "but
+the silver handle is for the white-plumed knight!" and, running round
+the ledge of the castle wall to the highest turret, he flings the
+shining weapon down amongst the men of Langaffer.
+
+And now there was a fresh charge made on the enemy, and the "unknown
+warrior," armed with the newly-found talisman, stood face to face, hand
+to hand, with the traitor.
+
+... _Count Colin fell_, pierced through his armour of mail by the sword
+that once had been his! The enemy fled, and the victory was won.
+
+Then the stranger knight undid his visor, and took off his armour; and,
+as his golden locks floated down his shoulders, the soldiers cried out,
+"'Tis the King! 'tis the King!"
+
+Wattie was called forth by the King of all the Land, and was bidden to
+take the knightly helmet with its waving plume, and the shield, and the
+silver sword, and to wear them. The men of Langaffer laughed aloud; but
+Wattie did as he was commanded, and put on the knightly armour and
+weapons.
+
+And, behold at that moment he grew up into a great, strong warrior,
+worthy to wield them! He was knighted then and there, "Sir Walter of
+Ravenspur," and presented with the castle on the hill, which the king's
+own army repaired ere they quitted Langaffer.
+
+And then the King of all the Land sent a fair white robe, the size of
+the Queen's ladies'; and when little Mattie put this on, she grew up
+tall and stately to fit it. And, for many and many a year to come, she
+was known as the "Good Dame Martha, the faithful lady of Sir Walter of
+Ravenspur."
+
+
+II.
+
+THE KINGFISHER.
+
+
+Martin was a gardener, and lived in a cottage in the midst of a hamlet
+near Langaffer. All the country for miles round belonged to the old king
+and queen; and their beautiful palace was hard by the village, in a
+stately grove of elms and beech trees. Before the windows extended a
+lovely garden, which was kept in order by Martin. Here he toiled every
+day from morning-dawn till evening-dusk; and, in his own churlish
+manner, he had come to love the flowers that cost him so much labour.
+
+Like many another honest gardener, however, Martin found it very hard
+that he could not have his own way in this world, even as concerned his
+plants. For instance, the old monarch would come out every morning
+after breakfast in his dressing-gown and slippers, and would admire the
+bloom; but the very flowers he appeared to prize most were those that
+cost Martin least trouble, and which the gardener in his heart despised
+as cheap and vulgar.
+
+Then the queen and the young ladies were wont to appear on the terrace
+before dinner, with their little lapdogs, and call out for posies. They
+must have the finest tea-roses and moss-roses that were only in bud.
+Martin might grumble about to-morrow's "poor show," and point to some
+rare full-blown beauties--but no, they just desired those which were not
+yet opened.
+
+Moreover, there grew here and there in the garden a plant or shrub,
+which, Martin considered, would have been better removed; especially one
+large lauristinus, which, he declared, "destroyed all symmetry," and
+"hindered the flowers about it from enjoying the sunshine."
+
+But the old king obstinately opposed changes of this sort, and strictly
+forbade his gardener, on any pretext whatever, to remove the
+lauristinus; as it was well known at the court that for generations a
+spell was connected with this special shrub, and that therefore the less
+it was meddled with the better.
+
+All this interference tended to sour poor Martin's temper; but he
+himself declared it was nothing compared to the aggravating behaviour of
+Prince Primus, commonly called "Lord Lackaday," the king's eldest son.
+
+This young nobleman, who was renowned far and wide for his indolent
+habits, sauntered forth every day with a little boy carrying his
+fishing-tackle, away through the lovely gardens, without once turning
+his head to behold the brilliant parterres of "calceolarias,
+pelargoniums, petunias and begonias," or to inhale the sweet-scented
+heliotropes,--away through the park, and on to the river; for my Lord
+Lackaday's sole pastime was angling.
+
+"Humph! there he goes with his tackle," Martin would murmur, turning
+from tying up his carnations to stare after him. "If old Martin, now,
+were to spend _his_ days lying stretched _his_ full length on the
+grass, with a rod dangling in the water before him, what would the world
+come to? And where would _you_ be, my beauties?" he added, continuing
+his occupation. "Hanging your lovely heads, my darlings!" And so he
+grumbled and mumbled in an undertone to himself the whole livelong day,
+until he went home to his supper at night; when his good wife, Ursula,
+would endeavour to cheer him with her hearty welcome.
+
+One evening Martin went with his clay pipe and his pewter ale-pot in his
+hand to the village inn, to divert himself listening to the general
+gossip which was carried on there between the host and the little group
+of customers--weavers, tinkers, tailors, blacksmiths and labourers.
+To-night they talked of the rich old king and queen, and Lord Lackaday,
+and all the gay princesses, knights and ladies, who lived at the court,
+and rode by in such splendid carriages, in such gorgeous attire.
+
+"They eat out of golden dishes," said the tailor, "and the very nails in
+their boots are silver!"
+
+Martin knew as much about the court as any present; but he was in one of
+his silent humours this evening.
+
+"The princess gave a hundred crowns," cried the blacksmith, "for a
+one-eyed lapdog, and My Lord Lackaday--Prince Primus, I mean--two
+hundred for a certain white fly for his angling-rod----"
+
+"And he never gave _me_ a hundred _groats_," blurted out Martin, who
+could not stand any reference to the prince in question.
+
+Thereupon the conversation took another turn; wages were discussed, the
+weaver and the ploughman "compared notes"; and, as for Martin, it was
+the unanimous opinion of the whole company that he, at least, ought to
+strike--to insist on an increase of pay, or refuse to labour any more as
+the king's own gardener.
+
+Accordingly, the next morning Martin watched and waited till his royal
+master came sidling along the smooth gravel walk in his embroidered
+slippers, with his dressing-gown floating about him, sniffing with
+good-humoured satisfaction the sweet fragrance of the standard roses,
+that formed a phalanx on either side.
+
+"I've got to tell your Majesty," began Martin abruptly, "that, unless
+your Majesty raises my salary, I can't work any more in your Majesty's
+garden."
+
+Whereupon the old king started back all astonished; then laughed so
+heartily that he brought on a fit of coughing.
+
+"Your Majesty may be highly amused," grumbled Martin, "but I've said my
+say, and I mean to stick to it!"
+
+"But suppose your salary _ain't_ raised," began the king, trying his
+best to look serious, "what then?"
+
+"Then I'll go!" cried Martin; and, so saying, he flung his spade with
+such force into the soil, that it stood upright.
+
+"Well, my man, we'll give you a week to come to your senses," replied
+the monarch, as, gathering up his skirts, he shuffled away down the
+garden walk.
+
+When Martin arrived home he found a great fuss going on in his little
+cottage. All the good wives of the hamlet were gathered about the
+door-porch; and, when he entered, lo, and behold, Dame Ursula held in
+her arms the dearest little beauty of a baby-boy!
+
+She wept for joy, as she saw how pleased her goodman was with his new
+little son; but when he related to her all that had passed between
+himself and his master, the old king, she clasped her hands together,
+and began to weep and wail for sorrow, "because," as she said, "it was a
+very bad time to be 'out of work,' and an evil omen for the child.
+However, we'll have a real nice christening, Martin dear, and invite all
+the _good fairies_. And next week you will go on with your gardening
+again, you know, just as if nothing had happened."
+
+So they had as grand a christening as people in their circumstances
+could afford. The baby was called Lionel, "which," remarked some of the
+neighbours, "was quite too fine a name for a common gardener's son."
+Only one bright little, gay little fairy could be found who had time to
+come to the christening. But she was a good-natured little thing, that
+somehow always found exactly time to render a great many kindly
+services. She willingly became Lionel's godmother, and promised to help
+him through life as far as she could. "However," added the little lady,
+with a sigh, "there's many a wicked fairy in the land may try to throw a
+shadow across his path."
+
+Now the day after the christening, and after the fairy's departure, the
+troubles in little Lionel's home appeared to set in. Martin's leather
+money-bag hung empty, and there was very little bread in the house for
+his wife to eat; and this Saturday night no wages were coming due. Oh,
+how he yearned for Monday morning, that he might go at his digging
+again; and how anxiously he hoped that all might continue as before!
+
+Slowly the week dragged out, the lagging hours weighing like chains on
+the heart of the honest yeoman, who was not accustomed to idleness.
+
+At last the Monday morning dawned, with rustling of leaves, and
+twittering of birds; and Martin flung his clothes on, and hastened forth
+to the royal garden.
+
+Ah, me! the place looked neglected since only last week. The roses and
+carnations hung their heads for want of a drop of water, and the leaves
+of the fuchsias had mostly turned white. Weeds were staring out boldly
+right and left; and the box-borders, that had ever been so trim and
+neat, just appeared as if all the cats and dogs in the country-side had
+gathered in on purpose to tear them to pieces.
+
+Martin sped to the toolhouse for his watering-can, rake and hoe; but he
+was somewhat dismayed indeed to find his implements broken in pieces,
+and lying scattered about.
+
+What could it mean?
+
+He took a few strides towards the "lime walk," and gazed up at the
+castle windows. The lattices were closed, and all was silent. But then,
+of course, the old king and queen and My Lord Lackaday, and all the
+princesses would be sleeping in their beds at this early hour of the
+morning. Martin must wait until some human creature appeared to tell him
+how the garden tools came to be broken and scattered.
+
+In the meantime he trudged back to his own domain among the flowers, and
+passed the dreary moments picking off the withered leaves. By-and-by a
+light footstep was audible, and "Impudent Jack the jockey" arrived
+whistling, with a heavy-jowled bull-dog at his heels, and stamped right
+across the garden parterres, switching off the carnation-tops with his
+cutty-whip.
+
+"Holloa there, man! Mind what you're about!" cried Martin foaming with
+wrath. "I wish His Majesty the old king saw you."
+
+"The old king!" cried Jack, standing still, and gazing at Martin with
+some amazement. "Why, Martin, the old king is _dead_ a week to-morrow,
+and My Lord Lackaday is master now. And, as for the garden, my man, you
+may set your mind at rest about that, for his new Royal Majesty has
+given orders that the whole concern is to be turned into a lake for His
+Majesty to fish in. Now!" And, so saying, _impudent_ Jack that he was,
+continued his way, whistling louder, and switching off more carnation
+tops than before.
+
+Poor Martin was utterly dazed. Could it be true, or was it only a
+cunning invention of Impudent Jack the jockey's?
+
+Alas, the prolonged stillness that reigned in the park, and the forlorn
+aspect of the castle windows, made his heart sink like lead within him.
+
+Suddenly a postern door banged, and then a slow, dawdling step was heard
+in the distance, and Martin perceived, approaching the "lime walk," My
+Lord Lackaday, with his fishing-rod and tackle. There were two or three
+young pages with him bearing baskets and nets; and he overheard one of
+them say, "By-and-by your Majesty shall not have so far to go, once the
+new pond here is finished."
+
+This was more than Martin could endure. He dashed after the royal
+fisherman, and screamed forth, "Can it be true that the flower gardens
+are to be made a pond of? And how is your father's gardener then to get
+his living?"
+
+"Don't bother us," drawled out the new king; "we don't like flowers, nor
+do we care whether you get a living or not!"
+
+The blood rushed to Martin's head, and a singing sound filled his ears.
+"A pond!" he cried. "A common fishpond! And how am I to earn my living
+now? And what is to become of my wife and little Lionel?"
+
+In his anger and despair, Martin sprang blindly forward, and kicked the
+standard roses, and wrung the necks of the beautiful purple iris that
+bloomed in the shade of some laurel bushes. His eye caught the
+spellbound lauristinus, and, forgetting his late good master's commands,
+he fell on it furiously with both hands, and tore, and wrenched it from
+the earth.
+
+Then suddenly, as the roots and fibres of the ill-omened plant with a
+crackling noise were released from the soil, a wonderful being, which
+had been buried underneath it--a wicked fairy with an evil eye--uncoiled
+herself, and rose up straight and tall before him. She gave a malicious
+smile, and simpered out flattering words to the half-bewildered
+labourer.
+
+"A thousand thanks, O noble knight, for relieving a spell-bound lady!
+Pray let me know, is there aught that I can do to indicate my
+gratitude?"
+
+"Tell me how I can earn my daily bread?" stammered forth poor Martin.
+
+"Daily bread!" cried the fairy, tossing her head contemptuously. "I can
+tell thee, gallant sir, where to find gold, ay, more real yellow gold
+than the king and all his court ever dreamed of! I have not been pent up
+under that lauristinus all these years for nothing! I know a secret or
+two."
+
+Martin's eyes grew dilated, and his breath came and went, and he seized
+the fairy by the wrist. "Answer me," he gasped out hoarsely, "where's
+all that gold to be got? No palavering, or I'll bury you up again, and
+plant that same lauristinus-bush on your head!"
+
+The fairy rolled her evil eye, and gave a forced laugh. "At the back of
+yonder mountain!" she cried, pointing with her thin, long hand to a hill
+whose summit overlooked the park. "The way thou must take is through the
+forest, till thou comest to the charcoal-burners' huts. Then follow a
+crooked path leading to the left, round to the back of the hill. Thou
+wilt find an opening in the earth. _The gold is there!_"
+
+Martin scarcely waited for the last words. He loosened his grasp of the
+fairy's wrist, and hastened full speed home to his wife and child.
+
+"To a hole at the back of the mountain to look for gold!" Poor Dame
+Ursula was sorely puzzled when her good-man arrived all excited, and
+bade her make a bundle of what clothes she possessed, bring the baby
+Lionel, and follow him to push their fortune at the back of the
+mountain.
+
+Now at the back of the mountain there was a deep mine where many people,
+men, women and children, were searching after, and finding, gold. Only
+they were obliged to descend deep, deep into the bowels of the earth,
+where all was dark, save for the pale flickering of little lanterns,
+which they were allowed to carry down.
+
+Poor Dame Ursula wept bitterly at the notion of taking her darling
+little Lionel into such a dismal pit. But there was no help for it; down
+they must go, and live like the rest at the bottom of the gloomy mine,
+whilst Martin, with a pickaxe, wrought for gold.
+
+... The days passed, and the weeks passed, and the months, and the
+_years_! And little Lionel was growing up amidst the dross. His long
+hair was filthy, and matted together, and his skin was always stained
+with the clay. His parents could scarcely know whether he was a lovely
+boy or not. It was so dark down there, that his mother could not show
+his blue eyes to the neighbours; yet she ever kept him by her side, for
+fear of losing him, and also because she dreaded he might learn bad ways
+from the gold-diggers--to curse and swear like them, and tell lies, and
+steal other people's treasures.
+
+And poor Martin dug from year-end to year-end, in the weary hope of some
+day lighting on a great heap of wealth.
+
+The time dragged slowly on, and Lionel's father was getting old and
+weak, and his pickaxe fell with feeble, quavering strokes into the
+earth; and Lionel's poor mother was growing blind with constantly
+peering after her son through the half-obscurity of their underground
+abode.
+
+Then one morning she missed him altogether, having mistaken for him
+another youth, whom she followed and then found with bitter anguish to
+be not her boy. Thus Lionel was alone; and he, too, searched for his
+mother, and, in so doing, became completely lost in the mine.
+
+On and on he wandered, through endless subterraneous corridors, until at
+last he spied a feeble glimmer before him. He never remembered to have
+been here before, or to have seen this light. It was the entrance to the
+mine.
+
+There was a large basket, with two old men standing in it; and they told
+Lionel that they were about to be taken up into the daylight.
+
+"Oh, let me go with you!" cried Lionel. "Take me also to the daylight,
+if only for a little while!"
+
+They hoisted him into the basket; and immediately several unseen hands
+from above drew all three right up, out of the dark gold mine. The pale,
+thin ray grew stronger, broader, brighter as they ascended; and, at the
+mouth of the mine, a perfect flood of golden sunshine overwhelmed
+Lionel, who now held his hands across his brow, and felt painfully
+dazzled.
+
+"Young man," said a voice beside him, in mournful accents, "this upper
+air is not for thee. Go down again to the shady retreat to which thou
+art accustomed."
+
+It was an aged female that spoke; she sat on the ground all clad in a
+sooty garment.
+
+"Not for me!" cried Lionel, bursting into tears; "and why should it not
+be for me as well as for others?"
+
+But just at this instant a fairy-like thing in white glided past the
+youth, and whispered, "Heed her not, she is an evil genius! Hie thee,
+young man, for shelter to yonder wood; from its leafy shade thou canst
+behold the lovely earth with its verdant meadows, rich foliage and
+brilliant flowers, and the soft, fleecy clouds embracing one another in
+the azure sky overhead. Never fear, it is all for thee; thine eyes were
+meant to gaze on it."
+
+Lionel ran, and his young heart bounded within him for joy. He felt like
+some blind person who sees again for the first time.
+
+All through those dismal years down in the mine his mother had told him
+how lovely the sunshine was, and the soft green grass; and how pure and
+sweet the country air; but he had little dreamed it could be so
+delightful, so beautiful as this!
+
+The forest stood before him with its thousands of singing-birds, and its
+carpet of many-coloured leaves and wild flowers. He would enter in
+there.
+
+Suddenly a croaking sound from a branch overhead arrested his attention,
+and Lionel saw a great magpie staring down at him with dark, piercing
+eyes.
+
+"Halt!" cried the magpie, "nor enter this wood upon the peril of thy
+life! Here are lions and tigers, bears and wolves, that will rend thee
+to pieces."
+
+He was startled and troubled for a moment; but at once his eye caught
+sight of a pretty little mocking-bird, that laughed like a human being,
+and shook its tiny head at him.
+
+"_She_ doesn't believe you, anyhow," said Lionel to the magpie. "Nor
+will I." And he walked away right into the forest.
+
+As he went he stopped to examine the feathery-looking ferns, and the
+wondrous velvety moss that grew on the roots of the trees. By-and-by a
+rushing noise was heard, which became louder as Lionel proceeded. Could
+that be the wild beasts of which the magpie had warned him? He stood
+still with fast-beating heart and listened.
+
+But the thought of the fairy-like voice and the gay little mocking-bird
+encouraged him, and he pressed forward to see what that rushing noise
+could mean.
+
+The next instant found young Lionel by the side of a majestic waterfall,
+standing with parted lips and rounded eyes, gazing before him in a
+bewilderment of admiration. The cascades leaped laughingly from rock to
+rock, and were lost in a limpid pool; then flowed away as a gentle,
+rippling brook.
+
+"How lovely!" gasped Lionel; and he bent forward, and looked into the
+placid surface of the water in the rocky basin. But what did he behold
+there? A vision that appalled him, and caused him to start back
+abashed--_himself_, all grimy, with his matted hair and besmeared face!
+For he had still the dress of the gold mine clinging to him; and he wept
+for shame to feel himself so ugly in a spot where all was beauty.
+
+Lionel stood and gazed on the silver stream with his wondering eyes; he
+observed the little birdies come down quite fearlessly to quench their
+thirst, and lave their tiny bodies in the cooling drops. Then he, too,
+trembling at his own temerity, bathed himself in the crystal pool, and
+came forth fair and shining, with his sunny locks waving on his
+shoulders.
+
+And now he continued his path through the forest with a happy heart;
+for, what if his garments _were_ old and mud-stained, he felt that he
+himself was fresh and comely!
+
+Young Lionel gathered a nosegay as he went, harebells and violets,
+oxlips and anemones; thinking all the while of the tales his mother oft
+had told him about his father's skill in flowers. And heartily he
+laughed at the frolics of the cunning little squirrels he spied for the
+first time among the branches over his head.
+
+At last he heard the echo of many voices and the sounds of merry-making,
+and paused, hesitating and timid. Whence came all this laughter and
+these cries of mirth? Surely not from the voice of one being, a
+sallow-looking female attired in gaudy garments, like a gipsy, who now
+came along his path.
+
+"Turn, noble sir, and come with me," she cried, "and I will tell thee
+thy fortune!"
+
+But Lionel liked not her artful eyes, so he only said, "What sounds are
+those?"
+
+"They are the inhabitants of the country," answered the female vaguely;
+"but beware of them, young stranger, they will surely take thy life."
+
+"But I must see them," cried Lionel, "their voices please my ears! They
+seem to be very happy."
+
+"Such happiness is not for thee, young man!" shrieked the fortune-teller
+angrily. "Be warned, and return from whence thou camest; else these
+country clowns, when they behold thy miserable attire, will stone thee
+to death, as a thief or a highwayman."
+
+Lionel was shocked; yet the leer of the gipsy's eye made him think of
+the lying magpie. So he left her, and hastened on, and, behold! there
+stood before him the village maypole, bedecked with roses and ribbons,
+and a living garland of youths and fair maidens dancing round it.
+
+They had a lovely little fairy-body in their midst, and were entreating
+her to be their "May-Queen," but laughingly she broke away from them
+all, and declared she had her duties elsewhere--other young folks in
+another hamlet to render happy. She nodded in a friendly, familiar way
+to Lionel, who waited, shyly looking on, and motioned to him with her
+little wand to join the party round the May-pole.
+
+Far from repulsing him with sneers and jests, or "stoning him to death,"
+the young people were very kind to Lionel; and, taking his hand,
+welcomed him into their chain of dancers.
+
+And when the frolics were at an end, and each one satiated with
+happiness and excitement, they brought him to their festal board, and
+gave him to eat and drink.
+
+Then the good old wives of the hamlet gathered round, and began to
+question the stranger youth, inquiring his name and whence he came. When
+they heard that he was called "Lionel," and his father "Martin," they
+held up their hands with astonishment, and nodded their heads to one
+another, and cried out, "Dame Ursula's son! Dame Ursula's babe, that was
+christened Lionel, the day Lord Lackaday became king! Well to be sure!
+And where is Dame Ursula now? And Martin the gardener? And where have
+they hidden themselves all these long years?" cried the old wives of the
+hamlet in a breath.
+
+But Lionel wept bitterly, as he thought of his mother and father far
+down in the bottom of the gold-mine; and at the same time he was
+ashamed to tell the village people where they were.
+
+"I must go," he cried, "and bring them here! I must be off to search for
+them, away ... away ... at the back of the mountain."
+
+Then the old wives insisted on his waiting and resting the night there;
+for he had need of sleep, he was so tired after walking and bathing,
+dancing and weeping. And they gave him a nice, spruce, dimity-curtained
+bed to sleep in; and presented him with a beautiful suit of new garments
+for the morrow; "for," they said, "they had been at his christening, and
+it was easy to see that the good Dame Ursula, wherever she had been all
+these years, had brought her boy up well."
+
+Lionel was fatigued, and shut his eyes at once for the night; but, ere
+slumber overtook him, he heard distinctly the old wives' gossip by his
+bedside.
+
+"What a shame it was," said they, "of My Lord Lackaday to turn away poor
+Martin as he did, and then transform the magnificent palace garden into
+a fishpond!"
+
+"But he was punished for it," whispered another. "They say an 'evil
+spell' hangs over his only child, the lovely princess--the 'Lady Lilias'
+as she is called. They say some creature from below the cursed fishpond
+is to marry her--some dreadful beast no doubt. And the king is in
+terror, and spends his time fishing there day and night."
+
+The words awakened a strange curiosity in Lionel's heart; they rang in
+his ears, and mingled with his dreams the whole night through; and it
+seemed to him as if he and his parents were, in some way, bound up with
+the fate of this poor young princess and her unhappy father, the king.
+
+The following morning he donned the brave new garments they had given
+him, and went forth to look at the park and the palace he had so often
+heard of, before starting back to the gold-mine.
+
+He discovered the royal entrance without assistance. But what was his
+surprise to see, crouched on the roadside near it, a being which looked
+this time just what she was, a wicked fairy with an evil eye! She
+uncoiled herself, and stood up, straight and tall, before him. She gave
+a malicious smile, and simpered forth these words: "Beware, young man,
+of entering in there! That is the royal demesne, and no stranger
+intrudes unpunished. None so poor and so mean as thou art dares be seen
+within those precincts."
+
+"My parents have taught me that _to tell lies is mean_! And thou hast
+told me enough!" cried Lionel, indignantly.
+
+At his words the creature vanished from before him; and on the spot
+where she had stood he saw an ugly bush of deadly nightshade.
+
+Then he boldly entered the royal park, and walked in thoughtful silence
+till the stone work of the ancient castle walls met his view. At one
+side was a venerable shady lime walk, and Lionel perceived a maiden
+slowly gliding down it, attired in white, with golden hair, much longer
+than his own, and eyes of an azure blue.
+
+"Are you the spellbound Lady Lilias?" asked Lionel. "And where is the
+lake that was once a lovely garden?"
+
+"Oh, I dare not go there," sighed the maiden; "not even to cull the
+sweet white water-lilies I wish so much, because my father fears I may
+meet some creature from below the water. Didst thou ever hear the like?
+But I think I might go with thee," she added wistfully, taking Lionel's
+hand. "No vile creature can harm me when thou art by my side!"
+
+Her innocent, confiding words captivated Lionel's heart, and he
+exclaimed, "I will protect you, Lady Lilias, from every danger."
+
+Then she led him to the great artificial lake at the back of the royal
+mansion; and there, sure enough, lay the king stretched out his full
+length upon the bank, with his fishing-rod dangling in the water.
+
+Near the margin of the lake grew lovely white water-lilies, and the Lady
+Lilias stooped to gather them. But her father was all alarmed on
+beholding her approach the spot which fate had connected with so much
+danger for his child.
+
+"My daughter, my Lilias!" he cried out, "when I have fished up the
+creature from below the lake that waits to marry thee, I will kill it,
+and then thou may'st wander as thou wilt. But oh, keep far from the
+water's edge, my child!"
+
+"Ah, here is a _Lion_ will guard thy _Lily_, father dear," returned the
+girl laughing, and she presented young Lionel to the king.
+
+But, at this instant, a violent tugging was perceptible at the end of
+the monarch's angling-rod; and he rose in great excitement to draw in
+his line, which this time seemed to have hooked some extraordinary
+booty.
+
+Lionel ran forward, and assisted the king to land it.
+
+And what was the wondrous fish? A little tiny fairy-body all laughing
+and shining like a mermaid.
+
+"I have come," she began gaily, "from the bottom of the lake, but your
+Majesty need not fear that fair Lady Lilias will fall in love with an
+old fairy like me. Yet there stands one at her side, my godson, young
+Lionel, old Martin the gardener's son, who has indeed come also from
+beneath the lake; and deeper down than I. For you must know that below
+your Majesty's feet, and below the royal palace and this park and pond,
+there are workmen grovelling sordidly for gold, and the danger is, that
+some fine morning both the palace and the hamlet may be undermined, and
+fall into the pit that they are digging."
+
+"Oh," cried the king greatly relieved, "then my Lilias shall marry young
+Lionel! He is a goodly youth; and my heart shall be at rest about my
+daughter. And now, good Fairy, that I fear no longer an ugly monster for
+my child, I shall fish no more to-day, but inquire into these things,
+that threaten the safety of my kingdom!"
+
+Lady Lilias and "My Lord Lionel," as he was now called, were married at
+once; for the good fairy declared, _a good thing could never be done too
+soon_.
+
+The marriage was a grand one, as became a royal princess of the great
+house of Primus Lackaday; and immediately after the ceremony, by
+Lionel's desire, the young pair drove in a glass-coach, drawn by eight
+swift chargers, through the forest, Lilias bearing in her hands a large
+posy of water-lilies--away, past the cascade, and on, to the opening of
+the gold-mine, at the back of the mountain.
+
+An order was sent down in the basket, by a special messenger, bidding
+old Martin and Dame Ursula ascend to meet their Lionel and his noble
+bride.
+
+As it was, the poor old couple had been searching in anguish for their
+son; and now, weary and heavy-hearted, they had arrived just at the foot
+of the opening when the news came to them.
+
+Then the sudden reaction, and the sight of the brand-new silk and velvet
+garments Lionel sent down for them, almost killed them with joy. "'Tis
+my _Lionel's voice_ I hear!" cried Dame Ursula as they were being drawn
+up in the basket.
+
+"Ah me, the odour of my flowers after twenty years!" sobbed out Martin,
+the tears trickling down his furrowed cheeks at the recognition of his
+favourites.
+
+And so they were all happy again; and Lionel's fortune was made,
+although his father found no heaps of gold.
+
+As for the king, _in three days_ he was back to his fishing again, lying
+on the bank of the great pond, as happy as ever he was in the old times
+when he was only "My Lord Lackaday." He said the land was too much
+trouble for him; Lilias and Lionel might rule it as they thought fit.
+And so these two _really_ carried out all _he_ had promised to do.
+
+The good little fairy-body rarely appeared in the country after Lionel's
+wedding-day; for the people were all happy now, "and," as she declared,
+"had no need of her."
+
+And then it happened that one day at noontide, when the sun was shining
+overhead with a dazzling heat, and all the air was warm and drowsy, the
+king, who had been angling since early morning, without catching the
+smallest minnow, and had fallen fast asleep, lost his balance, and
+rolled down the sloping bank into the water, and disappeared. They
+dredged the lake for his body in vain. No trace of him was to be
+discovered, although they sent the most expert divers down to search.
+
+But, strange to say, every evening from that time forward, just about
+sunset, a little bird with plumage gay, called "_The Kingfisher_," might
+be seen to haunt the margin of the lake, ready, with its pointed beak,
+to hook up the tiny fishes, that glided in shoals at nightfall near the
+surface of the water.
+
+
+III.
+
+CASPAR THE COBBLER, OF COBWEB CORNER.
+
+
+In the centre of a certain old city in the Land of Langaffer stood a
+king's castle, surrounded by a high turreted wall, with many little
+gablets and long windows, and balconies adorned with flowers. A
+courtyard full of soldiers was inside. Like the city, the castle was
+picturesque, with its quaint architecture, its nooks and turns, its
+solid masonry and stone-carving. The interior must have been beautiful
+indeed; for the king, who had a very excellent taste, could scarcely be
+induced to leave his royal home even for an hour, so much did he love
+it. He was wont to inhale the fresh air every morning on the southern
+parapet where the clematis trailed over the antique coping, and, in the
+long summer twilight he would enjoy gazing at the east, where the
+sinking sun had spread its golden hue over his dominions, from the tiny
+top turret pointing to the woods and mountains that lay away beyond the
+city.
+
+Now, in close proximity to the castle were some of the darkest and
+narrowest streets of the city. One of these was Cobweb Corner; and here,
+in a small attic, dwelt a humpbacked, plain-visaged little man, who the
+whole day long loved to think about the king. He was called "Caspar the
+Cobbler, of Cobweb Corner."
+
+The people all knew Caspar, but they did not know that Caspar's secret
+ambition was to become some day cobbler to the king.
+
+Caspar's father and mother had been poor folk, like himself; and when he
+came into the world, a sickly, plain-featured babe, his mother sent for
+the very last of the fairies in the land to be her child's godmother,
+and to bequeath him some wonderful gift which might make up for his lack
+of strength and beauty.
+
+"What an ugly child," said the fairy; "yet somebody will love him, and
+he may become beautiful--and, when all else forsake him, why, then the
+most graceful of the birds shall be his friends."
+
+Poor Caspar's mother considered that she had accomplished a great thing
+in persuading the fairy to act as godmother; but his father thought he
+could do better for his son in teaching him his own handicraft to the
+best of his ability.
+
+And therefore, with an extraordinary amount of care and patience, the
+old man instructed his little lad how to manage his awl; and, ere he
+died, had the satisfaction of knowing that his Caspar bade fair to
+become as clever a cobbler as any in the city.
+
+Several years had passed, and Caspar lived on alone in the little attic
+near the castle wall. The way up to his room was dark and narrow, up
+rickety stairs, and along crooked passages; but, once at the top, there
+was plenty of cheerful light streaming in through the dormer-window, and
+the twittering of the birds, as they built their nests in the eaves, had
+something pleasant and gay.
+
+The feathered songsters were Caspar's most constant companions, and he
+understood every word they said. He confided to them all his secrets,
+amongst others, what a proud man he should be, the day he made a pair of
+shoes for the king! Other secrets he imparted also to the birds, which
+the city folk down in the streets guessed little about.
+
+Many and many a time, as Caspar sat so much alone, he would sigh, and
+wish that his fairy-godmother would come and see him sometimes. But,
+alas, that could not be, for the king had given strict orders that the
+sentinels posted at the city gates should allow "no fairy bodies" in.
+Even the very last of the kind was, by a new law, banished to
+far-distant fairyland. "No more magic wands, no more wonders nowadays,"
+sighed poor Caspar; "nothing can be won but by hard and constant work,
+work, work!"
+
+Moreover, poor Caspar had to learn that even honest work sometimes fails
+to ward off hunger and poverty. For many a long month the crooked
+little cobbler was doomed to toil, and to suffer privation as well. He
+might make his boots and shoes night and day, and lay them out, pair by
+pair, in neat rows along a shelf in the corner of his attic, but what
+availed all this if no customer ever ventured up to look at them, nor
+even to order mendings?
+
+The fact was, that about this time the folk in that old city began to
+wear _wooden_ shoes, which, they said, were good enough for them, and
+lasted longer than any other.
+
+Only fair-haired, blue-eyed Mabel, Dame Dimity's daughter, who had the
+daintiest little feet in the world, and knew how to dance like any
+fairy--she wore lovely little shoes manufactured by Caspar.
+
+When Midsummer-day came round Mabel was elected May-queen. Then she came
+tripping up the rickety staircase, and along the dingy passage to the
+attic workshop, in Cobweb Corner. "Caspar, Caspar, here, quick! My
+measure for a darling little pair of shoes to dance in!" and she held
+out the most elegant little foot which any shoemaker could possibly
+choose for a pattern.
+
+Three days after that the shoes were finished, a bonnie wee pair of
+crimson ones, in the softest of kid-leather; and when Mabel came to
+fetch them, and tried them on, they fitted like a glove. She drew them
+both on, and danced round the room to show how delighted she was. And
+dear! how lovely they looked, all three--Mabel and the little red
+shoes!!
+
+Poor deformed Caspar smiled as he watched her, and felt happy to have
+rendered her so happy.
+
+"I love to see you, little Mabel," he said, "and that is why I shall
+shut up my workshop on Midsummer-day, and go out to the common when you
+are crowned 'Queen o' the May.' I only wish the sky may be as blue--as
+blue--as your eyes are, Mabel!" And then the crooked little cobbler
+stammered and blushed at his own forwardness in paying such a compliment
+to the prettiest maiden in the land.
+
+But little Mabel said, "I will watch out for you, Caspar. I shall care
+for nobody on all the green so much as you."
+
+Caspar could scarcely quite believe little Mabel when she said this; yet
+he was greatly touched by her kindness, and he promised to go and look
+at her from afar.
+
+When Midsummer-day dawned over that old city the weather was
+beautiful--the sky, as blue as Mabel's eyes; and young and old flocked
+out to bask in the sunshine, and enjoy the games and the merry-making.
+Even the king sallied forth from his castle, accompanied by his
+courtiers, to favour with his presence the time-honoured custom of
+crowning the May-queen.
+
+When he beheld little Mabel he exclaimed, "What a lovely maiden, fit to
+be a princess!"
+
+Caspar was standing quite near, and heard it with his own ears. He
+expected after that to see Mabel drop a curtsey to the king. But no, the
+little maiden looked straight at him--poor Caspar--instead, and with her
+queen's flowery wand, pointed down to her bonnie crimson shoes.
+
+The cobbler of Cobweb Corner was becoming dazed with happiness. Curious
+thoughts about his fairy-godmother crept into his head; strange thrills
+of pleasure and of pain shot through his dwarfish frame, and turned him
+well-nigh sick with emotion. It seemed to Caspar that he had grown older
+and younger in that one summer day. He felt giddy, and suddenly longed
+for his quiet attic in Cobweb Corner.
+
+He stole silently away, and had left the crowd behind him on the Common,
+when he suddenly became aware of a tiny hand slipped into his own; and,
+looking down to the ground, observed a dainty pair of red shoes tripping
+lightly by his side. "What! little Mabel?"
+
+"I just wanted to leave when you would leave, Caspar. For there was
+nobody on all the green I cared for so much as you."
+
+Ah, this time he did believe her,--poor Caspar! And so he must tell her
+all _his_ secret. "I love you, little Mabel, oh so much! And oh, if some
+day you could marry me, I should keep you in darling little crimson
+shoes all your life! And who knows--perhaps through your love Mabel--I
+might grow better-looking. They said my godmother promised it."
+
+"I love you as you are, plain or handsome, you dear, good Caspar," cried
+little Mabel, "and I will marry you just as soon as my mother, Dame
+Dimity, gives her consent!"
+
+Alas! True love is ever doomed to be crossed, else this little tale of
+ours had been a good deal shorter; had, perhaps, even ended here!
+
+Dame Dimity would on _no_ account yield her consent to the union of her
+daughter, the beauty of the town, with the cobbler of Cobweb Corner.
+Why, if it came to that, there was Christopher Clogs, the wooden
+shoemaker, who was a good figure and a wealthy man to boot! He lived in
+the Market Place, and drove a thriving business, whilst Caspar was known
+to have only one coat to his back. Really the effrontery of Cobweb
+Corner was astounding!
+
+Poor Mabel's eyes were now often dimmed with tears; yet once every day
+she passed through the narrow street near the castle wall, and gazed up
+at Caspar's gable-window, until she saw the little shoemaker smile down
+at her. After she had vanished, Caspar would feel very lonely; yet he
+said to himself, "When I want to see her blue eyes, then I must look at
+the sky. She'll always have blue eyes, and she'll always be _my Mabel_."
+
+These days Caspar rarely left his workshop in the old garret. He was
+very poor, and had nothing to buy with; so he went to no shops, and he
+avoided the neighbours, as they were beginning to make merry about him,
+and Mabel, and Dame Dimity. He could not bear to hear them say that
+Mabel was betrothed to Christie Clogs, the wooden shoemaker. Anything
+but that!
+
+When he had nobody to talk to, why, he opened his window to converse
+with the swallows, and asked them every evening what was the news--for
+Caspar could not afford to take in a newspaper.
+
+"Oh, what do you think!" they cried one night, swirling round his head
+in circles, as their custom was, "here is something to interest you,
+Caspar! The king has got _sore feet_--from wearing tight boots, they
+say,--and sits in an arm-chair with his feet wrapped up in a flannel.
+We saw it all just a while ago."
+
+"I took stock of His Majesty's feet that day," said Caspar promptly,
+"the day he was out on the 'Green.' I can't help measuring people's feet
+with my eye," he added apologetically to the swallows; "you see, it's my
+trade, and it is the only thing I am good at."
+
+But ere he had finished speaking, the friendly swallows had described
+their last swift circle in the air, and, with a sharp scream of
+"Goodnight," had darted into their nests under the old pointed roof.
+
+That evening, ere he lay down in _his_ nest, poor Caspar had cut out of
+soft, well-tanned leather a pair of shoes, which he knew to be the
+king's own measure. "Ah," said Caspar, "the poor king must have his new
+shoes as soon as possible, for it is awful to suffer toe-ache, and to be
+obliged to sit all day long with one's feet swathed in flannel." And
+Caspar sat with his leather apron on, and wrought as if for life and
+death at the new shoes. He was too busy even to rise and look at the
+window for little Mabel passing by.
+
+At last they were completed. Then the humpbacked cobbler, having washed
+his hands, and brushed his one coat, went off, quivering with
+excitement, bearing the new shoes in his hands, away downstairs, and
+through the narrow street under the castle wall, till he came and stood
+before the castle gate. Here the sentinel on duty demanded what he
+wanted.
+
+"Pair of shoes for His Majesty," responded Caspar in a businesslike
+manner, and was admitted.
+
+When he had crossed the courtyard, and had arrived at the entrance of
+the inner apartments, he was accosted by a couple of lackeys covered
+with gold lace, and with powdered hair.
+
+"Heigho! What's all this!" they exclaimed. "Where dost thou hail from,
+old Hop-o'-my-thumb?"
+
+"I am Caspar the cobbler, of Cobweb Corner," replied the little man
+gravely; "as you may perceive by these new shoes which I bring for the
+king, and which are His Majesty's exact fit."
+
+"Begone, knave!" cried the lackeys indignantly. "Dost thou imagine the
+king would wear anything contrived by the likes of thee. Be off, old
+mountebank, ere thou and thy shoes are flung into the castle dungeon!"
+
+In vain poor Caspar intreated; they would not even listen to him. At
+last, in utter terror for his life, he hurried away, disappointed,
+mortified, sick at heart, carrying the despised piece of workmanship, at
+which he had toiled so carefully and conscientiously all these weeks,
+back home to his obscure lodging in Cobweb Corner. Here, overcome with
+vexation, the little man flung himself upon his bed, and cried himself
+asleep.
+
+When he awoke it was evening. A fresh breeze was gently stirring the
+casement, the window was open, and the swallows passing and repassing it
+in circles, producing a screaming, chattering noise all the time.
+
+Caspar's eye fell first on his work-table, on which lay, side by side,
+his latest, best work, the brand new shoes for the king. Ah! the
+swallows saw them too, and this was the cause of all the extra
+twittering and screaming this evening.
+
+"Dear feathered friends," cried Caspar, springing to the open window,
+"how can ye help me? They are finished! They fit! But how are they to be
+conveyed to His Majesty? The menials in the castle would not let me in."
+
+"Wee--wee--we could carry _one_!" piped the swallows, slily, dipping
+their long lanced wings, and swirling swiftly by.
+
+"No, not _one_, ye silly creatures!" cried Caspar all out of breath;
+"_both_ or none!"
+
+The swallows made a second long sweep, and as they neared the gablet
+again, hissed forth, "Singly were surer." But, as Caspar made a sign of
+impatience, four of his friends, the swifts, darted straight across the
+window-sill to the work-table, and, seizing the new shoes by heel and
+toe, sped off with them across the old wall to the royal castle.
+
+It seemed but an instant and they were back, screaming and hissing and
+circling towards their nest in the eaves. Caspar put his head out at
+the open casement, and listened anxiously to their sounds.
+
+"Dropped them at his bed-room window--the little balcony--some one
+opened--took them in--so, so, sleep well, sleep well,--goodnight!"
+
+The following morning Caspar the cobbler was up and dressed before
+daybreak, and down in the streets, in and out amongst the crowds, trying
+to overhear some gossip about the king.
+
+The city folk were surprised to see him once more in their midst; and
+good-naturedly permitted him to sit at their firesides for old times'
+sake, although he called for no ale, nor lighted a long pipe like the
+others. All poor Caspar desired was to ascertain the latest court news;
+but, to his annoyance, he was doomed to learn first a great many things
+that did not please him about Dame Dimity and Christie Clogs.
+
+At last, late on in the afternoon, somebody inquired if the company were
+informed of the good tidings, "that His Majesty the king was recovered
+of his foot-ache, and could walk about again, thanks to a shoemaker who
+had succeeded in fitting His Majesty's foot to a 'T.'"
+
+"_That_ shoemaker, whoever he be, has founded his own fortune this day!"
+exclaimed the innkeeper.
+
+Caspar sprang to his feet, and at the same time the pewter tankards and
+all the pipes, the host and all the customers, danced round before his
+eyes. With a great gasp of excitement he bounded out to the street, and
+sped on to the market place, past Dame Dimity's, and past Christie
+Clogs', and on to the narrow street with the overshadowing wall, and on,
+and on, until he arrived at the royal entrance. He obtained admittance
+as before, and pressed forward till he was arrested by the supercilious
+lackeys in gold-lace livery.
+
+"What! here again, old Hop-o'-my-thumb!" cried they.
+
+"But I am the royal shoemaker, gentlemen!" exclaimed Caspar, proudly,
+"and that was my own work which I carried in my hand yesterday morning."
+
+"What knavery is this?" returned the head menial of the castle, "the
+royal shoemaker, villain, is no clumsy clown from these parts; but he
+and his wares come from abroad, from Paris. He is, moreover, with the
+king at present, receiving his reward for the beautiful new pair of
+shoes in softly-tanned leather, which arrived last night at dusk. He is
+an elegant gentleman, this Parisian, and knows fine manners as well as
+his trade, for he ne'er goes nor comes without dealing out _largesse_ to
+us, the gentlemen attendants, and therein exhibits his good breeding."
+
+"But the shoes!" stammered out Caspar all aghast. "The shoes! I made
+them, and His Majesty the king has them on at this very moment. Confound
+your Parisian!" he screamed, waxing wroth; "it was _I_ who made the
+shoes--they were found on the western balcony last night--His Majesty
+must know that they are the work of Caspar the cobbler, of Cobweb
+Corner!"
+
+At this moment a musical murmur of voices was audible from within, and a
+creaking of boots; and at once the angry lackeys turned smiling faces
+towards the departing French merchant, who politely pressed a little
+coin into each of their outstretched palms.
+
+When at length he took his departure, Caspar followed him some way with
+a very ugly expression disfiguring his features. "I could kill this
+dandy interloper, who steals the reward and credit of my hard-earned
+toil! I could stick my awl through him!"
+
+Poor Caspar, it was well that at this instant he was accosted by his
+loving little angel, his sweet, blue-eyed Mabel!
+
+"Eh, my Caspar, whatever has come over you, and whither are you going,
+that you do not even see your own Mabel? And, oh! I am thankful to have
+met you now, for look, Caspar, with trudging past Cobweb Corner every
+day my pretty shoes are well-nigh worn through! So I must have a new
+pair, and you may set about making them at once."
+
+Then poor Caspar told her about his grievous disappointment at the
+castle, and the insults and humiliation he had experienced at the hands
+of the royal underlings. "It is too bad." he said, "to think that nobody
+knows that I made them!"
+
+"The swallows know it," added Mabel pensively, "and you should have
+followed their advice; for, after all, they are your best friends."
+
+"What!" returned Caspar sharply, "and sent only one at a time? Is that
+what you mean, Mabel?"
+
+"I dare say that was what _they_ meant," she returned.
+
+Caspar groaned.
+
+"But look," continued the little maiden gaily, her blue eyes dancing
+with a bright idea, "remember this, O Caspar, the king's shoes must
+by-and-by become worn through, like mine! And then--and then, he must
+have new ones too--and then--and then we'll take the swallows' advice,
+and act with greater caution."
+
+That evening when Caspar went home to Cobweb Corner, and flung open his
+gable-window, there were _no_ graceful circles described overhead, and
+_no_ twittering amongst the eaves. All was silent. The swallows had
+taken leave of Cobweb Corner, and of the royal castle, and of the quaint
+old city, with its many spires and turrets. They were off, all together,
+a joyous merry troup of tourists, swiftly, swiftly winging their way to
+warmer climes for the winter.
+
+Poor Caspar missed them sadly, and reproached them a little at first for
+being heartless, selfish creatures. Soon, however, he gained courage
+again; and began to work at Mabel's shoes ... and then at the king's--to
+have them ready by spring time, when, as the little maiden said, "the
+others should be worn out."
+
+Several times that winter Caspar saw the king walk out in the identical
+shoes his hands had manufactured; and his heart gave a leap every time
+he observed them becoming thinner.
+
+At last the soft western breezes, the budding flowers, and the
+bright-blue, sunny sky of springtime came again; and the swallows
+returned swiftly, swiftly, swirling and screaming, just as they had done
+last year. They nested in their old corner under the eaves of Caspar's
+gable-roof. And by-and-by, when it was gossipped throughout the city
+that the king's feet were paining him again, because the very last new
+shoes--which _really_ came from Paris, didn't fit at all, then the
+swallows at nightfall hissed at Caspar's window, "_Soon, soon, see they
+be ready! Singly is surely!_"
+
+The dandified tradesman from Paris arrived at the castle with all his
+samples; but he was received with suspicion, and dismissed in disgrace,
+and this time distributed no _largesse_ amongst the gold-laced lackeys.
+
+The same night the swallows might have been observed darting off from
+Cobweb Corner, bearing _one_ neatly-made shoe in soft, well-tanned
+leather. They dropped it outside the royal window, on the western
+balcony.
+
+The following morning there was a great proclamation out all over the
+town. The mayor read it aloud on the market place in front of Christie
+Clogs' house, offering an immense reward to the person who could produce
+the missing shoe, "fellow to that one discovered on the king's balcony
+last night"; and a second reward, "ten times as great to the
+manufacturer of the said pair of shoes, which fitted His Majesty to a
+'T.'"
+
+In front of the crowd thronging the market place stood Caspar, his
+figure erect, his face transformed into a beautiful face by the delight
+which had taken possession of his whole soul. The success of an honest
+workman beamed in his countenance, and rendered the poor cobbler noble.
+
+Mabel ran to his side, and he placed the missing shoe in her hands. "It
+is safe with my true, blue-eyed darling!" cried Caspar proudly; and the
+people raised a hearty cheer.
+
+Then they formed a procession, and, with Caspar and Mabel at their head,
+marched to the royal presence.
+
+This time the king received Caspar himself, and from Mabel's lips
+learned the whole story of the shoes from the very beginning.
+
+After that, there was great rejoicing in the quaint old city; for both
+Caspar and Mabel were now the favourites with all the better folk. The
+king issued a command for their immediate marriage, and appointed Caspar
+to a post in the castle.
+
+But the only title Caspar was willing to accept was that of "Cobbler to
+the King"; and, as such, he subsequently removed his belongings from
+Cobweb Corner to a fine large house which was prepared for him in the
+market place.
+
+The fairy godmother was allowed to come and grace the wedding with her
+presence; and she promised so many blessings that Caspar and Mabel ought
+to have been still happier if that had been possible.
+
+As for Dame Dimity, she married Christie Clogs herself; and report says
+she led a sore life of it when he came home tipsy at night, and began to
+fling his wooden shoes about.
+
+
+IV.
+
+DAME DOROTHY'S DOG.
+
+
+On the outskirts of Langaffer village, and not far from the great pine
+forest, stood the cottage of old Dame Dorothy, with its latticed windows
+and picturesque porch, and its pretty little garden, fenced in with
+green palings and privet hedge.
+
+Dame Dorothy was a nice, particular old lady, who spent her time in and
+about her house, trying to make things neat and cosy. In winter she
+might be seen polishing her mahogany furniture, rubbing bright her
+brazen candlesticks and copper kettle, or sweeping about the fireplace;
+whilst in summertime she was mostly busy weeding her garden, raking the
+little walks, and watering her flowers.
+
+Yet she never smiled, only sighed very often; and toiled every day more
+diligently than the day before.
+
+Strange to say, Dame Dorothy was not comfortable in spite of all her
+conscientiously-performed labours; nor happy, although she lived in such
+a beautiful little cottage. She never imagined for a moment that the
+cause of this could be the fact--that she kept a black dog.
+
+Black Nero was a magnificent mastiff, with not a white hair on his back.
+He had run into Dame Dorothy's one Fifth of November from the forest,
+when quite a little puppy; and she had housed him and fed him ever
+since; and now she was so much attached to him that she declared she
+could not part with him for the world.
+
+In return for her care he trampled over her flower-beds, tore down her
+hollyhocks, and scraped up the roots of her "London Pride" with his
+fore-paws; made a passage for himself through her privet hedge, and lay
+stretched on fine days his full length on her rustic sofa in the
+door-porch.
+
+When the rosy-cheeked village children passed by to school in the
+morning Nero snarled and snapped at them through the railings, so that
+not one durst venture to say "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy."
+
+Even the next-door neighbours were afraid of him; and some acquaintances
+of the widow, who themselves kept cats and dogs, and nice little soft
+kittens as pets, now rarely invited her over to a friendly dance or a
+wedding or christening; for if they did the black dog was certain to
+accompany his mistress; and then, in the midst of the party, he would
+raise such a barking, and create such a confusion, that none of the
+dames could get speaking.
+
+In winter, when the cold blasts swirled dreamily through the leafless
+branches of the Langaffer beeches, causing them to creak and moan; when
+the snow lay thick upon the ground, and the nights closed in apace, and
+the villagers relished the comforts of the "ingle-nook,"
+then--alas!--there was no fireside enjoyment for poor Dame Dorothy. She
+might fasten her shutters, and draw her armchair close to the hearth;
+she might pile up the logs in the chimney to make a blazing fire--but
+all in vain! Home cheer there was none; for the black dog was there,
+with his great body extended between her and the warmth. She might boil
+the kettle, and gaze at herself in its shining lid; but Nero's face was
+reflected in the kettle-lid too; and in all the lids, and pots and pans,
+and pewters and coppers right round the room, with his ugly muzzle
+half-open for growling and snarling.
+
+Moreover, the dog was so greedy and thankless, he never wagged his tail,
+but would snap at the victuals his mistress herself was eating; and when
+she did give him the choicest dainties that came off her gridiron, and
+the very top of the cream, he would only whine for more.
+
+For all this, Dame Dorothy had no idea of parting with the graceless
+brute, but continued to pet and pamper him. She was even secretly proud
+of Nero, because he was the biggest dog in the village, and by far the
+most terrible. Once she told the neighbours over the palings that he was
+a great protection to her, especially at night, and she "such a poor
+lone widow!"
+
+Whereupon these good people honestly replied, "Oh, Mistress Dorothy,
+never dread a worse enemy than your own black dog!"
+
+Then in her heart she remembered how that very morning Nero had indeed
+caught her thumb between his teeth when impatiently snatching his food;
+and how the evening before he had upset the milkpail, and left the black
+mark of his paw on her new knitted quilt; and how, one day last week, he
+had sat down on her best Sunday cap. And Dame Dorothy knew in her heart
+that the village folk spoke truly; but she would not acknowledge it,
+no--but with a melancholy shake of her head, repeated, "Poor dear Nero!
+People have something against thee, my dear black doggie!"
+
+Now it happened that one fine morning in May, when the lark was warbling
+high overhead, and the hawthorn bushes were putting on their first pink
+blossoms, and all the forest was gay with budding flowers and singing
+birds, and the village school-children were passing hand-in-hand,
+carrying their little slates and satchels, that they met a tiny fairy
+all in white, with a wondrous beaming face, and golden hair floating
+down over her shoulders. Naturally they stopped to stare at her, for
+they had never seen such a lovely little lady before; and she smiled
+pleasantly, for she had never beheld such a collection of wondering
+round eyes, and so many wide-open mouths gaping at her.
+
+Presently she asked, "Can you tell me, young people, whose is that
+pretty cottage, so nicely situated at the corner of the wood, with the
+beautiful porch and palings?"
+
+"Dame Dorothy's!" exclaimed they all in a breath.
+
+"It must be very delightful there," she continued. "I shall go in, and
+see Dame Dorothy."
+
+"Don't! She keeps a dog," cried one, "and he will eat you up."
+
+"Such a nasty, big black dog," added another, "that barks----"
+
+"Like a lion," interposed a third.
+
+"And bites like a tiger!" added a fourth.
+
+"Oh, don't go, pretty lady!" repeated a fifth and sixth, and many more
+childish voices together; "and pray don't open the gate, for we are all
+so afraid he might spring out at us."
+
+"Thank you, my dears, but I am not afraid," said the fairy. "And I
+intend to visit Dame Dorothy all the same."
+
+Then the children were more astonished still when they saw her glide in
+between the palings without ever unlatching the gate. She was such a
+slender little fairy-body! But they held their breaths, and clutched at
+one another's skirts with fear, as they heard the harsh yelp of Nero,
+and perceived him bounding forward from his seat in the doorway.
+
+"Ah! eh! oh! he will devour her!" they all gasped out together. But just
+then the little lady was waving her tiny hand toward their school-house;
+and they all ran on so fast, so fast, that the door was not quite closed
+when they arrived.
+
+And now the good little fairy with her white dress, and her golden
+tresses floating behind her, fixed her blue eyes very steadily on the
+dog's black eyes, and held up her tiny forefinger.
+
+Thus she walked straight into Dame Dorothy's cottage, and, as she flung
+open the door, a whole flood of sunshine streamed in along with her.
+
+And the black dog hung his head, and followed her slowly, growling and
+grinding his teeth as if he would best like to snatch her, and munch her
+up, and swallow her down all in a minute.
+
+But Dame Dorothy was enchanted with her bright little visitor; for, to
+tell the truth, the callers-in were very rare that year at the woodside
+cottage, and the widow's heart often yearned for some one to speak to.
+
+The white fairy inquired how it was that so few flowers were seen in the
+garden, and so few birds' nests under the eaves of the cottage; and why
+Dame Dorothy did not take her knitting that fine morning, and enjoy the
+bright sun in the doorway?
+
+The widow looked melancholy, and heaved a deep sigh; but the black dog,
+who had overheard every syllable, sneaked away with a low growling
+noise, and knocked down a chair on purpose to indicate his malice.
+
+"I shall return another day," said the good little fairy as she rose to
+take leave, "and bring you such a sweet nosegay fresh from the forest,
+to decorate the table and cheer your heart, because," she added, quite
+in a whisper, lest Nero might hear her--"because I am sorry to see you
+have none left in your flower-beds."
+
+From this day forth Dame Dorothy's dog was "poorly." He skulked about
+the garden, keeping to the gravel walk, with drooping ears and tail
+between his legs. And by-and-by he began to leave his food untasted.
+
+The poor widow noticed the change, and became anxious. Then presently
+she grew more uneasy; and at last, greatly concerned about her
+favourite's health, she set about cutting him out a warm coat for the
+autumn out of her own best velvet mantle, for she was sure he had taken
+the influenza.
+
+By-and-by she observed that Nero grew worse on the days of the bright
+little fairy's visits; that no sooner did the white robe and the golden
+hair cross the threshold than he would move away from the fireside,
+slink whining under the tables and chairs, and pass outside the house
+altogether.
+
+Yet Dame Dorothy could not help loving the sunny fairy who every time
+fetched a lovely posy of sweet-scented flowers from the forest; to say
+nothing of her winning voice, her musical laughter, her gentle, loving
+eyes.
+
+And the village children trooped often now past the woodside cottage,
+for they wanted to catch a glimpse of the fairy as she went in and out;
+and they were quite overjoyed when she spoke to them.
+
+At last one day Dame Dorothy, who had got into the habit of telling the
+fairy everything, thought she would consult her about her dog.
+
+"Ah me, my poor Nero!" she said; "look at him, he is not thriving at
+all. And what will become of me, a lone widow woman, if aught befall my
+black dog? And only think, I cannot persuade him to wear the jacket I
+sewed for him out of my own best mantle!"
+
+"Poor black dog!" said the little fairy as gravely as she could, and
+nothing more.
+
+After that she went away; and the same night the dog disappeared.
+
+Dame Dorothy sought for him high and low, called him by name, coaxingly,
+entreatingly; but all in vain. Then she sat down in her great armchair
+by her own fireside, and began to weep for her favourite.
+
+Now it was a very comfortable chair, and the beech-logs in the wide
+grate sent out a nice warm glow, and it was the first time for months
+that the rightful possessor of the place could enjoy these in
+undisturbed tranquillity.
+
+Dame Dorothy soon fell fast asleep. And then she had such funny dreams
+about _white_ dogs, and _black_ fairies, and school children, all
+clothed in little jackets cut out of her own best mantle, that she
+laughed aloud several times in her sleep, and indeed did not waken until
+the morning sun sent his beams in through the diamond panes of her
+window.
+
+Many days Dame Dorothy searched for her black dog in every corner of the
+cottage, and under every bush in the garden, and all among her privet
+hedge, for she was sure he had lain down in some spot to die. But not
+the least trace of him did she discover.
+
+And then she gathered up all her grief to pour it forth in one loud,
+intense lamentation the first time the bright little fairy should
+arrive.
+
+"But oh, do not weep so, good Dame Dorothy," said the little lady.
+"When I return again, I shall fetch you another pet to keep you company
+all day long, and bring joy to your heart, and peace to your fireside!"
+
+She kept faithful to her promise, the good little fairy; for the next
+time she came from the forest she brought with her a lovely
+white-breasted _turtle-dove_ for Dame Dorothy.
+
+The village children saw her on the road, and they all flocked in before
+her, crying, "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy. Oh, you are going to get such a
+beautiful, _beautiful_ bird!" Then the old lady smiled at the children,
+as she never had smiled for years and years.
+
+And, as the days went by, the little garden near the great pine forest
+grew fair and fragrant. The roses and the sweet woodbine clambered over
+the pretty porch. The hollyhocks and the London-pride flourished once
+more, and the little birds built their nests, and twittered fearlessly
+under the eaves of the rustic cottage.
+
+The new white pet became so tame and so gentle that it would eat from
+its mistress's hand, and would perch lovingly upon her shoulder.
+
+And when she was invited by her old acquaintances in the village to an
+afternoon party, she was always requested to bring her pet along with
+her; for all the villagers, young and old, who had formerly dreaded the
+great black dog, now loved and welcomed _Dame Dorothy's dove_.
+
+
+V.
+
+THE LITTLE LOCKSMITH.
+
+
+Long ago there lived in Langaffer a light-hearted, light-haired, lazy
+little lad called Randal. He enjoyed a happy home, health and high
+spirits, and a gay, merry life with his brothers and sisters.
+
+They went to no school, but in the early Spring days sallied forth to
+gather primroses and anemones; they knew the spot where the tallest
+rushes grew, for plaiting into butterflies' cages, the best
+seggan-leaves for tiny canoes, and could tell where the finest
+blackbirds' eggs were to be found.
+
+In autumn, when the leaves were turning yellow, and the squirrels were
+fat and tame, they roamed together through the dingle in search of
+hazel-nuts; and waded up and down the shallow stream, their chatter
+mingling with its bubbling noise, whilst they tried to catch the darting
+minnows.
+
+Every corner of the village had echoed with their laughter, and with the
+shrill, clear voice of Randal, the bonniest and blithest of the band.
+
+Now, in a shady grove, at some distance from the village, there stood a
+quaint-looking edifice, with antique windows and sculptured pillars
+partly overgrown with ivy. The tiny lads and lasses of Langaffer knew it
+well enough by sight; but little cared they who lived there, or what
+might be inside. In the long summer twilight they chased one another
+round the basement walls, and startled the swallows from the eaves with
+their joyous screams; and that was enough for them.
+
+Yet there came a day when Randal was alone, lying listlessly his full
+length upon the grass, flapping away the midges with a blade of
+spear-grass, just in front of the mansion, when he beheld the portal
+open, and a youth step forth.
+
+The young man had a beaming countenance, and walked with a quick,
+elastic step.
+
+Then Randal wondered for the first time in his life what that lofty
+edifice could be, and why the youth came "all so smiling out" from its
+stately portico. He sprang to his feet, and, running forward, cried out,
+"Pray, sir, can you tell me what building is this?"
+
+"Oh, a beautiful fairy palace," cried the stranger, "with such wonderful
+things in every apartment! The oftener one enters, the more one sees,
+and all so curious, so lovely!"
+
+"What! Then you will take me with you the next time you go?" cried
+Randal, eagerly.
+
+"Oh, no, my lad," said the stranger. "If you wish to enter in you must
+have a key of your own."
+
+"But _where_ shall I get one?" said Randal.
+
+"Make it!" was the reply. "If you go to the forge at the four roads'
+end, and apprentice yourself to the locksmith there, he will show you
+how to set about it. It's a labour that's well repaid."
+
+The youth went away, and his words filled Randal with a strange yearning
+to behold the interior of the mysterious mansion.
+
+But he lost no time; he ran full speed till he came to the forge at the
+four roads' end, and begged the locksmith to receive him as an
+apprentice, and teach him how to construct a magic key, that would open
+the fairy palace.
+
+And there, at the smithy, Randal beheld a number of little locksmiths
+about his own age, each with a leathern apron on, and arms bared to the
+elbows, working away at the anvil. They were all making keys, and some
+had well-nigh finished, whilst others were only beginning.
+
+Then little Randal bared his arms too, and got a leathern apron on, and
+began to work with all his might, thinking only of the beautiful fairy
+palace, that stood so silent and majestic in the midst of the shady
+pine-grove.
+
+What could be within its walls? When should he obtain a peep at all the
+wondrous things he had heard of? Not till his key was ready!
+
+And alas! it was heavy work at the smithy. Day after day must the little
+mechanic toil, till the great beads of perspiration gathered upon his
+brow.
+
+As for the other apprentices, only _some_ wrought steadily on, with
+unflinching courage. Most of them, who were beginners, like Randal,
+idled when the master locksmith chanced to leave the forge, and skimped
+their work, and grumbled, and declared there was nothing in the palace
+worth the labour.
+
+One boy, whose key was almost shaped, gave up in despair, cried out that
+all the treasures of Fairyland should not induce him to work another
+minute; then flung down his tools upon the ground, tore off his apron,
+and ran out into the green fields.
+
+This discouraged many of the little workmen, who, one by one, dropped
+their implements, and slipped away, murmuring that the task was too
+difficult and tedious.
+
+Poor Randal felt sorely tempted to follow their example; and indeed he
+might have yielded, too, had not one pale-faced, earnest-looking boy,
+who held a file and piece of polished metal in his hand, exclaimed,--
+
+"Six times have I tried my key in the lock of the palace door, and all
+in vain. The _seventh_ time I must succeed--and then--the treasures are
+mine!"
+
+"What that pale-faced boy can do, I can do," said Randal to himself;
+and, like a thorough workman, he set himself bravely to his task,
+determined, come what might, to finish it.
+
+And every morning, when Randal left his home, and started for the forge,
+he took his way through the pine grove, just to gaze a moment with awe
+and admiration at the fairy palace, and for the twentieth time to fancy
+himself deftly turning the key in the lock, and gliding softly in.
+
+But once, as he hastened by at break of day, whom should he meet but
+Sylvan, the squire's son, setting out with a couple of terriers to hunt
+for weasels.
+
+"Where are you going so early?" said Sylvan; and Randal told him.
+
+Then the young squire laughed aloud, and cried out, "Oh, I have been a
+locksmith too at the four roads' end! My father made me go and work like
+a common slave. But I have had enough of that sort of life, and I don't
+wish to hear anything more about 'locks and keys, and fairy palaces.'
+Come with me, and I'll teach you how to set a trap."
+
+But Randal silently shook his head, and went his way to the forge at the
+four roads' end. Sylvan's words, however, continued to ring in his ears,
+and spoiled his heart for his labour. And all that day the smithy seemed
+in his eyes like an ugly den, and himself and the little locksmiths like
+so many toil-worn slaves. And now he chafed and fretted; and now he
+loitered at his work; and now he hastened to make up for squandered
+time. And then, alas, in his haste, he broke the key he was making.
+
+"Here's a pretty mess!" cried Randal in despair. "Must I start at the
+beginning again? Or shall I give it up altogether? Ah! why did I hear
+about the fairy palace at all?"
+
+The temptation was strong to fling down his tools, as many another
+before him had done, and leave the anvil for ever. Randal's ten fingers
+were just raised to unfasten the ties of his leather apron, when a
+joyous cry rang through the forge.
+
+It came from the pale-faced, earnest-looking lad, who held up his
+shining new key now completed. "My seventh trial," he shouted, with
+tears in his eyes, "and I know that it is perfect!" and he bounded forth
+in the direction of the wonderful mansion in the forest.
+
+At the sight of the pale boy's success Randal blushed deep red, and bit
+his lip; then, picking up his instruments one by one, he begged the
+master to give him another bit of iron.
+
+After that, the little locksmith wrought the livelong day with more
+energy and greater courage than any one at the forge. Before daybreak
+now he hastened to his work, ever choosing the nearest way, and avoiding
+the wood, lest he might encounter idle Sylvan, the squire's son. But
+once, at eventide, whom should he chance to meet but the gentle,
+pale-faced boy, coming from the fairy house, and looking so radiant and
+happy, that Randal rushed towards him, and questioned him about the
+treasures.
+
+"Oh, Randal!" cried his friend, "you will simply be enchanted when you
+come. For, once within the fairy palace, you must look and listen, and
+laugh, and admire."
+
+"Oh, tell me no more," cried the little locksmith, "my key is almost
+finished!"
+
+After this many more days passed in silent, steady toil; until at last,
+one bright morning in early Spring, as the sunbeams were breaking
+through the mist, Randal quietly laid down his file, and, nervously
+clasping a brightly-polished key in his vigorous young hand, glided
+softly from the smithy, and out into the cool air.
+
+The master locksmith stepped to the threshold to look after him; and,
+as he shaded his hand with his horny palm, and watched the lad's
+retreating figure, a smile of satisfaction and approval flitted across
+his wrinkled face.
+
+The new key turned smoothly in the lock, the door was opened, and he
+entered in.
+
+Randal wandered through the fairy palace. He found himself in beautiful
+apartments, lofty, grand and airy, containing countless lovely and
+curious objects. Some of these he could only look at; others he might
+feel and handle at his pleasure.
+
+There were portraits of kings and great warriors, pictures of
+battlefields and processions, which filled his mind with wonder; of
+quaint streets, and homely firesides, and little children attired in
+funny costumes, that made him laugh, and clap his hands, and hold his
+sides for merriment.
+
+In another apartment were various kinds of coloured glasses and prisms,
+through which the little Langaffer lad looked at strange countries he
+had never dreamed of before. Nay, from a certain oriel window he
+discovered stars, so many and so beautiful that he trembled with
+delight.
+
+And, all the time, there were other children from other villages
+rambling, like Randal, through the chambers of the fairy mansion. They
+moved gently about from room to room, taking one another's hands, and
+holding their breaths in astonishment. And only one subdued murmur
+filled the air of "Oh, how lovely, how fine! Ah, how strange!" For,
+besides all these things, there were exquisite flowers to be seen, and
+animals of every shape and size, and pearls and corals, precious stones
+and sparkling gems, and pretty contrivances for the children to play
+with.
+
+And the very best of it all was, that Randal possessed the key which he
+himself had made. He was as much the lord of the "wonderful palace" now
+as any one!
+
+The villagers were indeed astonished when Randal went home, and related
+to them what he had seen. And they all _respected_ the little locksmith,
+who, by his own honest toil, had gotten what they called, "The Key to
+the Treasures of Fairyland."
+
+
+
+
+ROMANCE IN HISTORY.
+
+
+
+
+HOW CICELY DANCED BEFORE THE KING.
+
+BY THOMAS ARCHER.
+
+
+The old manor-house of Sir Christopher Burroughs of Stolham, Norfolk,
+lay shining in the last rays of the setting sun, on the eve of May Day
+1646. The long range of windows along the front of the building between
+the two buttresses flashed with crimson and gold; for the house faced
+the south-west, and the brilliant light that shone from the rim of the
+blood-red cloud behind which the sun was sinking, glowed deep on the
+diamond panes. But the house was lighted within as well as without. In
+the large low-ceilinged dining-hall wax candles burned in great silver
+sconces, and the cloth was laid for supper. In the upper room the gleams
+that came through the spaces between the heavy curtains showed that
+there was company there. If any one had gone close to the porch and
+listened, he could have heard the sound of voices talking loudly, and
+now and then a laugh, or could have seen the shadows of servants passing
+to and fro in the buttery just within the great hall; nay, any one going
+round the corner of the house where there was an angle of the wall of
+the garden, could have heard from an upper window the sound of a lute
+playing a slow and stately measure, and if his ears had been very sharp
+indeed, he would have detected the light footfalls of dancers on the
+polished oaken floor.
+
+It was an exciting time; for King Charles I and his cavaliers and the
+army that they commanded had been beaten by Oliver Cromwell and the
+soldiers of the Parliament at Naseby, in Northamptonshire, and the King
+had lost all his baggage and his letters and papers. After this Charles
+had been from place to place with his army, till he reached Oxford,
+where his council was staying, and from this town he thought he should
+be able either to get to London or to go northward and join the Scotch
+army.
+
+But news had just come to Sir Christopher Burroughs that Cromwell and
+his general, Fairfax, had marched to Newbury, only a mile from Oxford;
+and though the worthy knight of Stolham was not fighting for the King
+any more than most of his neighbours in Norfolk were, he was more on the
+side of the Royal cause than on that of the Parliament; so that the
+report of the King's danger gave him a good deal of anxiety, and he and
+his friends and their ladies were talking about it as they waited for
+the butler to come and tell them that supper was ready. The troubles of
+the times did not always prevent people from eating and drinking and
+having merry-makings. The people around Stolham did not care enough for
+the Royal cause to give up all pleasures; and some of them--friends of
+Sir Christopher too--were more inclined to side with the Parliament and
+the Puritan generals, though at present they said very little about it;
+and Sir Christopher presently called out,--
+
+"Well, we met not to talk of politics or of the King's affairs; so let
+us to supper, though I cannot but say that I would fain see the ceasing
+of this strife, and the King with his own again."
+
+"Yes, with his own; but not with that which belongs to his subjects,"
+said a farmer, who had been fined for not paying the taxes which the
+King had ordered to be forced upon the people without the consent of
+Parliament.
+
+"Come, come," said Dame Burroughs, laughing and taking the farmer's arm,
+"we women hear enough of such talk every day in the week; but to-morrow
+will be May Day, and there will be open house to our friends, and for
+the lads and lasses, dancing at the May-pole, and a supper in the barn.
+Let us keep English hearts within us even in these dark times, and make
+merry as we can."
+
+"But methinks the May-pole is no more than a pagan thing, an idol to
+encourage to vanity and profane dancing," said a sour-faced man, who had
+been standing by the window.
+
+"It may have been a pagan custom once," said Sir Christopher; "and the
+same may be said of preaching from a pulpit; but all depends on the way
+of it, and not on the thing itself. As to dancing, it is an old custom
+enough; there is Scripture warrant for it perhaps, and it comes
+naturally to all young creatures. I'll be bound, now, that our Dick and
+his little cousin Cicely are at this moment getting the steps of the
+gavotte or the other gambadoes that have come to us from France and
+Spain, that they may figure before the company to-morrow."
+
+"That are they!" said the dame laughing, as a servant opened the door,
+and each of Sir Christopher's friends gave a hand to a lady to lead them
+down to supper. "Hark! don't you hear my kinswoman's lute? Poor, kind
+Dorothy, she will play to them for the hour long, and likes nothing
+better. I can hear their little feet pit-a-patting; and Dick would
+insist on putting on his new fine suit, all brave with Spanish point and
+ribbon velvet, and the boy has buckled on a sword, too, while the little
+puss, Cicely, not to be backward, is all a prop with a stiff petticoat
+and a brocaded fardingale, and has on her little silk cap with the
+pearls, just as I have heard the fashion is among the Queen's French
+ladies of honour. Hark! there they go, tum-tum-ty, tum-twenty-tum,
+tum-twenty-tum! Bless their little hearts!"
+
+The sour-faced man made a grimace; for his wife was just before him, and
+he could see her feet moving in time to the music as they all went down
+into the great hall laughing and talking; nor did the sound of the music
+cease till it was shut out by the closing of the door after they had sat
+down to supper; and even then it came upon them in gushes of melody
+every time a servant opened the door, to bring in another dish or a
+flagon of ale or of wine.
+
+They heard it when, supper being nearly over, the butler came in softly
+and whispered to Sir Christopher, who, asking them to excuse him for a
+moment, went out into the hall.
+
+A horseman was standing there, booted and spurred, and with his riding
+whip in his hand, and his steed was snorting, and scraping the ground
+outside.
+
+"Do you know me again, Sir Christopher?" said the man, in a low voice.
+
+"Let me bring you to the light," muttered the knight, leading him to the
+porch where there was a lantern hanging. "To be sure. I have seen you up
+at Whitehall and at Oxford, too, and are not likely to forget His
+Majesty's Groom of the Chambers. How fares it with our Royal Master?"
+
+"Why, it stands this way, sir, as I take it," whispered the visitor.
+"His Majesty must either fly the country or reach the army of the Scots,
+which he has no liking for, or raise the eastern counties and risk
+another battle. As it is, we have come safe out of Oxford, where Fairfax
+and the arch-rebel Cromwell are closing upon the city, and the king has
+ridden behind me after I had trimmed off his pointed beard, and made him
+look as much like a servant as is possible to his sainted person. I left
+him an hour ago after we had left Deeping, for I came on here to see if
+you could receive him, not according to his rank, but as a plain guest,
+with the name of Thomas Williams; for there are those about who might be
+meddlesome, and His Majesty can only tarry for two or three days,
+waiting for a message from the Scots generals, to be brought by a trusty
+hand. I had feared that His Majesty would have overtaken me, for my
+horse cast a shoe, and came limping along for a mile or more, till at
+the smithy yonder by the roadside I found a farrier."
+
+"Bring my dear friend Mr. Thomas Williams on with you," said Sir
+Christopher loudly, as the door opened and a serving man came out; "he
+shall be welcome for old times' sake when we were at college together,
+and tell him I will not have him put up at the inn while there is a bed
+and a bottle at Stolham Manor."
+
+Now neither Sir Christopher nor this visitor, who was the King's Groom
+of the Chamber, knew that the King, hearing the sound of horsemen behind
+him, had ridden past and turned down a bye-road, which all the same led
+him to Stolham; still less did they imagine that he was actually in the
+old manor house while they were talking there in the hall; because they
+had no notion of what had happened in the room where Mistress Dorothy
+was twanging the lyre, and the two young cousins were footing to the
+tune of Valparaiso Bay.
+
+While the children were in the very midst of a figure and Dick was
+snapping his fingers, and Cicely was making the grand _chasse_, Mistress
+Dorothy, glancing up from her music towards the window, had seen a pale
+face looking through the pane. She was not a woman to scream or to
+faint, for she was a quiet, staid, middle-aged person of much
+experience, and had lived in London, where she went to Court more than
+once with Sir Christopher and her kinswoman Dame Burroughs; so she kept
+on playing, and walked a little nearer to the window. The man who was
+outside--for it was a man, and he had climbed the angle of the wall, and
+now sat amidst the ivy close to the window-sill--beckoned to her, and as
+she advanced opened the breast of his coat, and showed a great jewel
+fastened with a gold chain under his vest.
+
+Another moment, and she had unfastened the window, and he had raised
+himself to the sill and come in. He was dressed like a servant,--a
+groom,--for he wore high riding-boots and spurs, and had a cloak
+strapped round his waist; he seemed to forget to take off his hat, but
+stood still in the middle of the room, as Mistress Dorothy suddenly
+knelt before him, and said in a whisper, "Children, children, kneel; it
+is the King!"
+
+Then the visitor removed his hat and showed his high, handsome face.
+Dick and Cicely also fell on their knees, but the King said, "Rise,
+madam; rise, little ones; and pardon my intrusion. I am travelling
+secretly, and was on my way hither when I found that I was followed, and
+so left my horse at the inn in the next village, and walked on. I would
+not that Sir Christopher Burroughs should be summoned, for my pursuers
+will ere long be at the gate, and, not finding me here, may pass."
+
+Now Dick Burroughs was as sharp a little blade as could be found between
+Stolham and Land's End, and quick as lightning he said, "But, Majesty,
+if it be no offence, let Cousin Cicely and I go on with our dancing, for
+there be some friends of Sir Christopher at supper, and should they or
+the servants no longer hear the lute, and think that we be tired, they
+may be sent to call us to bed, seeing that to-morrow will be May Day,
+and we shall rise early."
+
+"And then, Your Majesty," lisped Cicely, "if anybody break in and come
+up here and see us dancing, they will go away, and you can hide behind
+the hangings yonder."
+
+"You are a bright lad, and you a loyal little lady," said Charles, with
+a grave smile.
+
+"There is a horseman coming up the road," said Dick, in a whisper. "Your
+Majesty had best find a hiding-place, and I will show it you. Above this
+room is the turret, and behind the hangings here is a door, where a
+ladder goes straight up the wall to take you to the turret-room, from
+which you can see far up and down the road. Let me go first and light
+Your Majesty, and carry your cloak." Then, taking a candle from the
+music stand, he began to mount the steps.
+
+"Thou'rt a brave lad," said the King, "and I'll follow thee."
+
+"And it shall go hard but I'll get thee some supper, your Majesty," said
+Dick; "but Cis and I must keep on dancing till all the guests be
+gone,--and you will see who comes and leaves,--even if it be till
+daybreak, for there is a May moon shining all night."
+
+"Now, Mistress Dorothy, now, Cis," cried Dick, when he had come down and
+closed door and curtain, "music, music, for we must keep on dancing."
+The dancing never ceased, but Dick stole to the buttery and found a pie
+and a flagon of wine, which he carried with cup, knife, and napkin, to
+the King in the turret-room, and then down to dance again, till his legs
+ached and poor Cicely began to droop.
+
+There was a knock at the door, and the stumbling of feet upon the stair,
+and then the voice of Sir Christopher outside saying, "What warrant ye
+have to enter this house I know not; but as you take not my word, look
+for yourselves.' With that he opened the door, and two men looked into
+the room.
+
+"Dance up, Cis," whispered Dick, who gave a skip, and pretended to see
+nobody. "Play a little faster, Mistress Dorothy."
+
+"Now," said Sir Christopher, to the two fellows who stood outside,
+"mayhap you will leave these children to their sport till it is time for
+them to go to bed;" and with that he shut the door, and the fellows went
+lumbering down the stair. It seemed to be hours afterward when Sir
+Christopher again appeared. He opened the door suddenly, and he was not
+alone. Dame Burroughs was with him and a strange gentleman.
+
+"What! not in bed, you naughty rogues!" he said, as his eye fell on
+Cissy, who was sitting on the floor, her head upon her hands, fast
+asleep.
+
+"Dick, lad, what ails thee?" For Dick was standing by the hangings with
+the sword that he carried half-drawn from the scabbard, and great black
+rings round his eyes, and his legs trembling.
+
+"Come, Dick," said the knight, "this is His Majesty's Groom of the
+Chambers, and I would that we knew where our royal master could be
+found."
+
+"Here he is," said a deep voice from behind the curtain, as the King
+drew it aside and stepped into the room. The music ceased, Madame
+Dorothy gave a great cry. Charles stooped and caught up Cicely from the
+ground in his arms and kissed her.
+
+"Come, sweetheart," he said, "thou hast danced for the King till thou
+art half-dead, but the King will not forget thee. Richard, thou'rt a
+brave lad, and thou must come and kiss me, too. If we both live, thou
+shalt not repent having served Charles Stuart both with head and feet."
+
+
+
+
+A MOTHER OF QUEENS.
+
+_A ROMANCE OF HISTORY._
+
+
+One day, I will not say how many years ago, a young woman stepped from a
+country waggon that had just arrived at the famous Chelsea inn, "the
+Goat and Compasses," a name formed by corrupting time out of the pious
+original, "God encompasseth us."
+
+The young woman seemed about eighteen years of age and was neatly
+dressed, though in the plain rustic fashion of the times. She was well
+formed and good-looking, both form and looks giving indications of the
+ruddy health due to the bright sun and the fresh air of the country.
+
+After stepping from the waggon, which the driver immediately led into
+the court-yard, the girl stood for a moment uncertain which way to go,
+when the mistress of the inn, who had come to the door, observed her
+hesitation, and asked her to enter and take a rest.
+
+The young woman readily accepted the invitation, and soon after, by the
+kindness of the landlady, found herself by the fireside of a nicely
+sanded parlour, with a good meal before her--welcome indeed after her
+long and tedious journey.
+
+"And so, my girl," said the landlady, after having heard the whole
+particulars of the young woman's situation and history, "so thou hast
+come all this way to seek service, and hast no friend but John Hodge,
+the waggoner? Truly, he is like to give thee but small help, wench,
+towards getting a place."
+
+"Is service, then, difficult to be had?" asked the young woman, sadly.
+
+"Ay, marry, good situations, at least, are somewhat hard to find. But
+have a good heart, child," said the landlady, and as she continued she
+looked round her with an air of pride and dignity; "thou see'st what I
+have come to, myself; and I left the country a young thing, just like
+thyself, with as little to look to. But 'tisn't every one, for certain,
+that must look for such a fortune, and, in any case, it must first be
+worked for. I showed myself a good servant before my poor old Jacob,
+heaven rest his soul, made me mistress of 'the Goat and Compasses.' So
+mind thee, girl----"
+
+The landlady's speech might have continued indefinitely--for the good
+dame loved well to hear the sound of her own voice--but for the
+interruption occasioned by the entrance of a gentleman, whom the
+landlady rose and welcomed heartily.
+
+"Ha! dame," said the new-comer, who was a stout respectably attired man
+of middle age, "how sells the good ale? Scarcely a drop left in thy
+cellars, I hope?"
+
+"Enough left to give your worship a draught after your long walk," said
+the landlady, as she rose to fulfil the promise implied in her words. "I
+did not walk," was the gentleman's reply, "but took a pair of oars down
+the river. Thou know'st, dame, I always come to Chelsea myself to see if
+thou lackest anything."
+
+"Ay, sir," replied the landlady, "and it is by that way of doing
+business that you have made yourself, as all the city says, the richest
+man in the Brewers' Corporation, if not in all London itself."
+
+"Well, dame, the better for me if it is so," said the brewer, with a
+smile; "but let us have thy mug, and this pretty friend of thine shall
+pleasure us, mayhap, by tasting with us."
+
+The landlady was not long in producing a stoup of ale, knowing that her
+visitor never set an example hurtful to his own interests by
+countenancing the consumption of foreign spirits.
+
+"Right, hostess," said the brewer, when he had tasted it, "well made and
+well kept, and that is giving both thee and me our dues. Now, pretty
+one," said he, filling one of the measures or glasses which had been
+placed beside the stoup, "wilt thou drink this to thy sweetheart's
+health?"
+
+The poor country girl to whom this was addressed declined the proffer
+civilly, and with a blush; but the landlady exclaimed:
+
+"Come, silly wench, drink his worship's health; he is more likely to do
+thee a service, if it so please him, than John the waggoner. The girl
+has come many a mile," continued the hostess, "to seek a place in town,
+that she may burden her family no more at home."
+
+"To seek service!" exclaimed the brewer; "why, then, it is perhaps well
+met with us. Has she brought a character with her, or can you speak for
+her, dame?"
+
+"She has never yet been from home, sir, but her face is her character,"
+said the kind-hearted landlady; "I warrant me she will be a diligent and
+trusty one."
+
+"Upon thy prophecy, hostess, will I take her into my own service; for
+but yesterday was my housekeeper complaining of the want of help, since
+my office in the corporation has brought me more into the way of
+entertaining the people of the ward."
+
+Ere the wealthy brewer and deputy left "the Goat and Compasses,"
+arrangements were made for sending the country girl to his house in the
+city on the following day.
+
+Proud of having done a kind action, the garrulous hostess took advantage
+of the circumstance to deliver a long harangue to the young woman on her
+new duties, and on the dangers to which youth is exposed in large
+cities. The girl listened to her with modest thankfulness, but a more
+minute observer than the good landlady might have seen in the eye and
+countenance of the girl a quiet firmness of expression, such as might
+have shown the lecture to be unnecessary. However, the landlady's
+lecture ended, and towards the evening of the day following her arrival
+at "the Goat and Compasses," the girl found herself installed as
+housemaid in the home of the rich brewer.
+
+The fortunes of this girl it is our purpose to follow. It was not long
+before the post of housekeeper became vacant, and the girl, recommended
+by her own industry and skill, became housekeeper in the brewer's
+family. In this situation she was brought more than formerly into
+contact with her master, who found ample grounds for admiring her
+propriety of conduct, as well as her skilful economy of management. By
+degrees he began to find her presence necessary to his happiness; and at
+length offered her his hand. It was accepted; and she, who but four or
+five years before had left her country home a poor peasant girl, became
+the wife of one of the richest citizens of London.
+
+For many years, Mr. Aylesbury, for such was the name of the brewer, and
+his wife, lived in happiness and comfort together. He was a man of good
+family and connections, and consequently of higher breeding than his
+wife could boast of, but on no occasion had he ever to blush for the
+partner whom he had chosen.
+
+Her calm, inborn strength, if not dignity, of character, united with an
+extreme quickness of perception, made her fill her place at her
+husband's table with as much grace and credit as if she had been born to
+the station. As time ran on, Mr. Aylesbury became an alderman, and,
+subsequently, a sheriff of the city, and in consequence of the latter
+elevation, was knighted.
+
+Afterwards the important place which the wealthy brewer filled in the
+city called down upon him the attention and favour of the king, Charles
+I., then anxious to conciliate the goodwill of the citizens, and the
+city knight received the farther honour of a baronetcy.
+
+Lady Aylesbury, in the first years of her married life, gave birth to a
+daughter, who proved an only child, and around whom, as was natural, all
+the hopes and wishes of the parents entwined themselves. This daughter
+had only reached the age of seventeen when her father died, leaving an
+immense fortune behind him.
+
+It was at first thought that the widow and her daughter would become
+inheritors of this without the shadow of a dispute. But it proved
+otherwise. Certain relatives of the deceased brewer set up a plea upon
+the foundation of a will made in their favour before he married.
+
+With her wonted firmness, Lady Aylesbury immediately took steps for the
+vindication of her rights.
+
+A young lawyer, who had been a frequent guest at her husband's table,
+and of whose abilities she had formed a high opinion, was the person
+whom she fixed upon as her legal representative. Edward Hyde was,
+indeed, a youth of great ability. Though only twenty-four years of age
+at the period referred to, and though he had spent much of his youthful
+time in the society of the gay and fashionable of the day, he had not
+neglected the pursuits to which his family's wish, as well as his own
+tastes, had devoted him. But it was with considerable hesitation, and
+with a feeling of anxious diffidence, that he consented to undertake the
+charge of Lady Aylesbury's case; for certain feelings were at work in
+his heart which made him fearful of the responsibility, and anxious
+about the result.
+
+The young lawyer, however, became counsel for the brewer's widow and
+daughter, and, by a striking display of eloquence and legal knowledge,
+gained their suit.
+
+Two days afterwards, the successful pleader was seated beside his two
+clients. Lady Aylesbury's usual manner was quiet and composed, but she
+now spoke warmly of her gratitude to the preserver of her daughter from
+want, and also tendered a fee--a payment munificent, indeed, for the
+occasion.
+
+The young barrister did not seem at ease during Lady Aylesbury's
+expression of her feelings. He shifted upon his chair, changed colour,
+looked to Miss Aylesbury, played with the purse before him, tried to
+speak, but stopped short, and changed colour again. Thinking only of
+best expressing her own gratitude, Lady Aylesbury appeared not to
+observe her visitor's confusion, but rose, saying:
+
+"In token that I hold your services above compensation in the way of
+money, I wish also to give you a memorial of my gratitude in another
+shape."
+
+As she spoke thus, she drew from her pocket a bunch of keys such as
+every lady carried in those days, and left the room.
+
+What passed during her absence between the young people whom she had
+left together will be shown by the sequel. When Lady Aylesbury returned,
+she found her daughter standing with averted eyes, with her hand in that
+of the young barrister, who knelt on the mother's entrance, and besought
+her consent to their union. Confessions of mutual affection ensued, and
+Lady Aylesbury was not long in giving her consent to their wishes.
+
+"Give me leave, however," said she to the lover, "to place around your
+neck the memorial which I intended for you. The chain"--it was a superb
+gold one--"was a token of gratitude, from the ward in which he lived, to
+my dear husband." Lady Aylesbury's calm, serious eyes were filled with
+tears as she threw the chain round Edward's neck, saying, "These links
+were borne on the neck of a worthy and an honoured man. May thou, my
+beloved son, attain to still higher honours."
+
+The wish was fulfilled, though not until danger and suffering had tried
+severely the parties concerned. The son-in-law of Lady Aylesbury became
+an eminent member of the English bar, and also an important speaker in
+Parliament.
+
+When Oliver Cromwell brought the king to the scaffold, and established
+the Commonwealth, Sir Edward Hyde--for he had held a government post,
+and had been knighted--was too prominent a member of the royalist party
+to escape the attention of the new rulers, and was obliged to reside
+upon the continent till the Restoration.
+
+While abroad, he was so much esteemed by the exiled prince (afterwards
+Charles II.) as to be appointed Lord High Chancellor of England, which
+appointment was confirmed when the king was restored to his throne. Some
+years afterwards, Hyde was elevated to the peerage, first in the rank of
+a baron, and subsequently as Earl of Clarendon, a title which he made
+famous in English history.
+
+These events, so briefly narrated, occupied considerable time, during
+which Lady Aylesbury passed her days in quiet and retirement. She had
+now the gratification of beholding her daughter Countess of Clarendon,
+and of seeing the grandchildren who had been born to her mingling as
+equals with the noblest in the land.
+
+But a still more exalted fate awaited the descendants of the poor
+friendless girl who had come to London, in search of service, in a
+waggoner's van. Her granddaughter, Anne Hyde, a young lady of spirit,
+wit, and beauty, had been appointed, while her family were living
+abroad, one of the maids of honour to the Princess of Orange, and in
+that situation had attracted so strongly the regard of James, Duke of
+York, and brother of Charles II., that he contracted a private marriage
+with her.
+
+The birth of a child forced on a public announcement of this contract,
+and ere long the granddaughter of Lady Aylesbury was openly received by
+the Royal Family, and the people of England, as Duchess of York, and
+sister-in-law of the sovereign.
+
+Lady Aylesbury did not long survive this event. But ere she sunk into
+the grave, at a ripe old age, she saw her descendants heirs-presumptive
+of the British Crown. King Charles had married, but had no children,
+and, accordingly, his brother's family had the prospect and the right of
+succession. And, in reality, two immediate descendants of the poor
+peasant girl did ultimately fill the throne--Mary (wife of William
+III.), and Queen Anne.
+
+Such were the fortunes of the young woman whom the worthy landlady of
+"the Goat and Compasses" was fearful of encouraging to rash hopes by a
+reference to the lofty position it had been her good fortune to attain
+in life. In one assertion, at least, the hostess was undoubtedly
+right--success in life must be laboured for in some way or other.
+Without the prudence and propriety of conduct which won the esteem and
+love of her wealthy employer, the sequel of the country girl's history
+could not have been such as it was.
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF GRIZEL COCHRANE.
+
+_A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE._
+
+BY W. R. C.
+
+
+Sir John Cochrane of Ochiltree, the father of our heroine, was the
+second son of the first Earl of Dundonald. He was a distinguished friend
+of Sidney, Russell, and other illustrious men, who signalised themselves
+in England by their opposition to the court; and he had so long
+endeavoured in vain to procure some improvement in the national affairs,
+that he at length began to despair of his country altogether, and formed
+the design of emigrating to America. Having gone to London in 1683, with
+a view to a colonising expedition to South Carolina, he became involved
+in the deliberations of the Whig party, which at that time tended
+towards a general insurrection in England and Scotland, for the purpose
+of forcing an alteration of the royal councils and the exclusion of the
+Duke of York from the throne. In furtherance of this plan, Sir John
+pledged himself to assist the Earl of Argyle in raising the malcontents
+in Scotland.
+
+By the treachery of some of the subordinate agents this design was
+detected prematurely; and while some were unfortunately taken and
+executed, among whom were Sidney and Lord Russell, the rest fled from
+the kingdom. Of the latter number were the Earl of Argyle, Sir John
+Cochrane, and Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth. The fugitives found safety
+in Holland, where they remained in peace till the death of Charles II.
+in February 1685, when the Duke of York, the object politically of their
+greatest detestation, became king. It was then determined to invade
+Scotland with a small force, to embody the Highland adherents of Argyle
+with the west country Presbyterians, and, marching into England, to
+raise the people as they moved along, and not rest till they had
+produced the desired melioration of the state. The expedition sailed in
+May; but the Government was enabled to take such precautions as, from
+the very first, proved a complete frustration to their designs. Argyle
+lingered timidly in his own country, and, finally, against the advice of
+Cochrane and Hume, who were his chief officers, made some unfortunate
+movements, which ended in the entire dissolution of his army, and his
+own capture and death. While this well-meaning but weak nobleman
+committed himself to a low disguise, in the vain hope of effecting his
+escape, Sir John Cochrane, after a gallant fight against overwhelming
+numbers, finding his enemies were gathering large reinforcements,
+retired with his troops to a neighbouring wilderness or morass, where he
+dismissed them, with the request that each man would provide the best
+way he could for his own safety. For himself, having received two severe
+wounds in the body during the engagement, and being worn out with
+fatigue, he sought refuge in the house of his uncle, Mr. Gavin Cochrane
+of Craigmuir, who lived at no great distance from the place of
+encounter. Here he was seized and removed to Edinburgh, where, after
+being paraded through the streets bound and bare-headed, and conducted
+by the common hangman, he was lodged in the tollbooth on July 3rd, 1685,
+there to await his trial as a traitor. The day of trial came, and he was
+condemned to death, in spite of the most strenuous exertions of his aged
+father, Earl of Dundonald.
+
+No friend or relative had been permitted to see him from the time of his
+apprehension; but it was now signified to him that any of his family he
+desired to communicate with might be allowed to visit him. Anxious,
+however, to deprive his enemies of an opportunity of an accusation
+against his sons, he immediately conveyed to them his earnest
+entreaties, and indeed commands, that they should refrain from availing
+themselves of this leave till the night before his execution. This was a
+sacrifice which it required his utmost fortitude to make; and it had
+left him to a sense of the most desolate loneliness, insomuch that,
+when, late in the evening, he heard his prison door unlocked, he lifted
+not his eyes toward it, imagining that the person who entered could only
+be the gaoler, who was particularly repulsive in his countenance and
+manner. What, then, was his surprise and momentary delight when he
+beheld before him his only daughter, and felt her arms entwining his
+neck! After the first transport of greeting she became sensible that, in
+order to palliate his misery, she must put a strong curb upon her own,
+and in a short time was calm enough to enter into conversation with her
+father upon the subject of his present situation, and to deliver a
+message from the old earl, her grandfather, by which he was informed
+that an appeal had been made from him to the king, and means taken to
+propitiate Father Peters, his Majesty's confessor, who, it was well
+known, often dictated to him in matters of state. It appeared evident,
+however, by the turn which their discourse presently took, that neither
+father nor daughter were at all sanguine in their hopes from this
+negotiation. The Earl of Argyle had been executed but a few days before,
+as had also several of his principal adherents, though men of less
+consequence than Sir John Cochrane; and it was therefore improbable that
+he, who had been so conspicuously active in the insurrection, should be
+allowed to escape the punishment which his enemies had it now in their
+power to inflict. Besides all this, the treaty to be entered into with
+Father Peters would require some time to adjust, and meanwhile the
+arrival of the warrant for execution must every day be looked for.
+
+Under these circumstances, several days passed, each of which found Miss
+Grizel Cochrane an inmate of her father's prison for as many hours as
+she was permitted. Grizel Cochrane was only at that period eighteen
+years old; she had, however, a natural strength of character, that
+rendered her capable of a deed which has caused her history to vie with
+that of the most distinguished of heroines.
+
+Ever since her father's condemnation, her daily and nightly thoughts had
+dwelt on the fear of her grandfather's communication with the king's
+confessor being rendered unavailable for want of the time necessary for
+enabling the friends in London to whom it was trusted, to make their
+application, and she boldly determined to execute a plan, whereby the
+arrival of the death-warrant would be retarded.
+
+At that time horses were used as a mode of conveyance so much more than
+carriages that almost every gentlewoman had her own steed, and Miss
+Cochrane, being a skilful rider, was possessed of a well-managed
+palfrey, on whose speed and other good qualities she had been accustomed
+to depend. One morning after she had bidden her father farewell, long
+ere the inhabitants of Edinburgh were astir, she found herself many
+miles on the road to the borders. She had taken care to attire herself
+in a manner which corresponded with the design of passing herself off
+for a young serving-woman journeying on a borrowed horse to the house of
+her mother in a distant part of the country; and by only resting at
+solitary cottages, where she generally found the family out at work,
+save perhaps an old woman or some children, she had the good fortune, on
+the second day after leaving Edinburgh, to reach in safety the abode of
+her old nurse, who lived on the English side of the Tweed, four miles
+beyond the town of Berwick. In this woman she knew she could place
+implicit confidence, and to her, therefore, revealed her secret. She had
+resolved, she said, to make an attempt to save her father's life, by
+stopping the postman, an equestrian like herself, and forcing him to
+deliver up his bags, in which she expected to find the fatal warrant. In
+pursuance of this design she had brought with her a brace of small
+pistols, together with a horseman's cloak, tied up in a bundle, and hung
+on the crutch of her saddle, and now borrowed from her nurse the attire
+of her foster-brother, which, as he was a slight-made lad, fitted her
+reasonably well.
+
+She had, by means which it is unnecessary here to detail, possessed
+herself of the most minute information with regard to the places at
+which the postmen rested on their journey, one of which was a small
+public-house, kept by a widow woman, on the outskirts of the little town
+of Belford. There the man who received the bag at Durham was accustomed
+to arrive about six o'clock in the morning, and take a few hours' repose
+before proceeding farther on his journey. In pursuance of the plan laid
+down by Miss Cochrane, she arrived at this inn about an hour after the
+man had composed himself to sleep, in the hope of being able, by the
+exercise of her wit and dexterity, to ease him of his charge.
+
+Having put her horse into the stable, which was a duty that devolved on
+the guests at this little change-house, from its mistress having no
+ostler, she entered the only apartment which the house afforded, and
+demanded some refreshment. "Sit down at the end of that table," said the
+old woman, "for the best I have to give you is there already; and be
+pleased, my bonny man, to make as little noise as ye can, for there's
+ane asleep in that bed that I like ill to disturb." Miss Cochrane
+promised fairly; and after attempting to eat some of the viands, which
+were the remains of the sleeping man's meal, she asked for some cold
+water. "What," said the old dame, as she handed it to her, "ye are a
+water-drinker, are ye? It's but an ill custom for a change-house." "I am
+aware of that," replied her guest, "and, therefore, when in a public
+house, always pay for it the price of the stronger potation, which I
+cannot take." "Indeed--well, that is but just," responded the dame, "and
+I think the more of you for such reasonable conduct." "Is the well where
+you get this water near at hand?" said the young lady; "for if you will
+take the trouble to bring me some from it, as this is rather warm, it
+shall be considered in the lawing." "It is a good bit off," said the
+woman; "but I cannot refuse to fetch some for such a civil, discreet
+lad, and will be as quick as I can. But, for any sake, take care and
+don't meddle with these pistols," she continued, pointing to a pair of
+pistols on the table, "for they are loaded, and I am always terrified
+for them." Saying this, she disappeared; and Miss Cochrane, who would
+have contrived some other errand for her had the well been near, no
+sooner saw the door shut than she passed, with trembling eagerness, and
+a cautious but rapid step, across the floor to the place where the man
+lay soundly sleeping in one of those close wooden bedsteads common in
+the houses of the poor, the door of which was left half open to admit
+the air, and which she opened still wider, in the hope of seeing the
+mail-bag and being able to seize upon it. But what was her dismay when
+she beheld only a part of the integument which contained what she would
+have sacrificed her life a thousand times to obtain just peeping out
+from below the shaggy head and brawny shoulders of its keeper, who lay
+in such a position upon it as to give not the smallest hope of its
+extraction without his being aroused from his nap. A few moments of
+observation served to convince her that, if she obtained possession of
+this treasure, it must be in some other way, and again closing the door
+of the bed, she approached the pistols, and having taken them one by one
+from the holsters she as quickly as possible drew out their loading,
+which, having secreted, she returned them to their cases, and resumed
+her seat at the foot of the table. Here she had barely time to recover
+from the agitation into which the fear of the man's awaking during her
+recent occupation had thrown her, when the old woman returned with the
+water, and having taken a draught, of which she stood much in need, she
+settled her account, much to her landlady's content, by paying for the
+water the price of a pot of beer. Having then carelessly asked and
+ascertained how much longer the other guest was likely to continue his
+sleep, she left the house, and mounting her horse, set off at a trot, in
+a different direction from that in which she had arrived. Fetching a
+compass of two or three miles, she once more fell into the high road
+between Belford and Berwick, where she walked her horse gently on,
+awaiting the coming up of the postman. On his coming close up, she
+civilly saluted him, put her horse into the same pace with his, and rode
+on for some way in his company. He was a strong, thick-set fellow, with
+a good-humoured countenance, which did not seem to Miss Cochrane, as she
+looked anxiously upon it, to savour much of hardy daring. He rode with
+the mail-bags strapped firmly to his saddle in front, close to the
+holsters (for there were two), one containing the letters direct from
+London, and the other those taken up at the different post-offices on
+the road. After riding a short distance together, Miss Cochrane deemed
+it time, as they were nearly half-way between Belford and Berwick, to
+commence her operations. She therefore rode nearly close to her
+companion, and said, in a tone of determination, "Friend, I have taken a
+fancy for those mail-bags of yours, and I must have them; therefore take
+my advice, and deliver them up quietly, for I am provided for all
+hazards. I am mounted, as you see, on a fleet steed; I carry firearms;
+and, moreover, am allied with those who are stronger, though not bolder
+than myself. You see yonder wood," she continued, pointing to one at the
+distance of about a mile, with an accent and air which was meant to
+carry intimidation with it. "Again, I say, take my advice; give me the
+bags, and speed back the road you came for the present, nor dare to
+approach that wood for at least two or three hours to come."
+
+There was in such language from a stripling something so surprising that
+the man looked on Miss Cochrane for an instant in silent and unfeigned
+amazement. "If," said he, as soon as he found his tongue, "you mean, my
+young master, to make yourself merry at my expense, you are welcome. I
+am no sour churl to take offence at the idle words of a foolish boy. But
+if," he said, taking one of his pistols from the holster, and turning
+its muzzle toward her, "ye are mad enough to harbour one serious thought
+of such a matter, I am ready for you. But, methinks, my lad, you seem at
+an age when robbing a garden or an old woman's fruit-stall would befit
+you better, if you must turn thief, than taking his Majesty's mails from
+a stout man such as I am upon his highway. Be thankful, however, that
+you have met with one who will not shed blood if he can help it, and
+sheer off before you provoke me to fire."
+
+"Nay," said his young antagonist, "I am not fonder of bloodshed than you
+are; but if you will not be persuaded, what can I do? for I have told
+you a truth, _that mail I must and will have_. So now choose," she
+continued, as she drew one of the small pistols from under her cloak,
+and deliberately cocking it, presented it in his face.
+
+"Nay, then, your blood be on your own head," said the fellow, as he
+raised his hand, and fired his pistol, which, however, only flashed in
+the pan. Dashing this weapon to the ground, he lost not a moment in
+pulling out the other, which he also aimed at his assailant, and fired
+with the same result. In a transport of rage and disappointment the man
+sprang from his horse and made an attempt to seize her; but, by an
+adroit use of her spurs, she eluded his grasp and placed herself out of
+his reach. Meanwhile, his horse had moved forward some yards, and to see
+and seize the advantage presented by this circumstance was one and the
+same to the heroic girl, who, darting toward it, caught the bridle, and
+having led her prize off about a hundred yards, stopped while she called
+to the thunderstruck postman to remind him of her advice about the wood.
+She then put both horses to their speed, and on turning to look at the
+man she had robbed, had the pleasure of perceiving that her mysterious
+threat had taken effect, and he was now pursuing his way back to
+Belford.
+
+Miss Cochrane speedily entered the wood to which she had alluded, and
+tying the strange horse to a tree, out of all observation from the road,
+proceeded to unfasten the straps of the mail. By means of a sharp
+penknife, which set at defiance the appended locks, she was soon
+mistress of the contents, and with an eager hand broke open the
+Government despatches, which were unerringly pointed out to her by their
+address to the council in Edinburgh and their imposing weight and broad
+seals of office. Here she found not only the fatal warrant for her
+father's death, but also many other sentences inflicting different
+degrees of punishment on various delinquents. These, however, it may
+readily be supposed, she did not then stop to examine; she contented
+herself with tearing them into small fragments and placing them
+carefully in her bosom.
+
+The intrepid girl now mounted her steed and rode off, leaving all the
+private papers where she had found them, imagining (what eventually
+proved the case) that they would be discovered ere long from the hints
+she had thrown out about the wood, and thus reach their proper places of
+destination. She now made all haste to reach the cottage of her nurse,
+where, having not only committed to the flames the fragments of the
+dreaded warrant, but also the other obnoxious papers, she quickly
+resumed her female garments, and was again, after this manly and daring
+action, the simple and unassuming Miss Grizel Cochrane. Leaving the
+cloak and pistols behind her, to be concealed by her nurse, she again
+mounted her horse and directed her flight towards Edinburgh, and, by
+avoiding as much as possible the high road, and resting at sequestered
+cottages, as she had done before, and that only twice for a couple of
+hours each time, she reached town early in the morning of the next day.
+
+It must now suffice to say that the time gained by the heroic act
+related above was productive of the end for which it was undertaken, and
+that Sir John Cochrane was pardoned, at the instigation of the king's
+favourite counsellor, who interceded for him in consequence of receiving
+a bribe of five thousand pounds from the Earl of Dundonald.
+
+
+
+
+A WIFE'S STRATAGEM.
+
+_A TALE OF 1715._
+
+BY LUCY HARDY.
+
+
+It was with mingled feelings of annoyance and satisfaction that old Lady
+Glenlivet and her daughters received the intelligence that the only son
+of the house was about to bring an English bride to the grey old Scotch
+mansion where so many generations of his "forbears" had lived and died.
+
+Sir Alick was six-and-twenty, and it was therefore fully time that he
+should marry and carry on the traditions of the house, and, as the
+Glenlivet's fortune did not match their "long pedigree," it was
+distinctly an advantage that the newly-wedded bride was so well dowered.
+But then, on the other hand, Mistress Mary Wilkinson was an
+Englishwoman, and Lady Glenlivet more than suspected the fact (adroitly
+veiled in her son's letter) that the young lady's fortune had been made
+in trade.
+
+Sir Alick Glenlivet, visiting London for the first time in his life, had
+been hospitably entertained by a distant kinsman, a Scotch lawyer, who
+had settled in the English metropolis; and at his house had met with the
+orphan heiress of a substantial city trader, to whom Simon Glenlivet was
+guardian. To Alick, bred up in the comparative seclusion and obscurity
+of his Scottish home, the plunge into London life was as bewildering as
+delightful; and he soon thought sweet Mary Wilkinson, with her soft blue
+eyes and gentle voice, the fairest creature his eyes had ever rested
+upon; while to Mary, the handsome young Scotchman was like the hero in a
+Border tale.
+
+"Happy the wooing that's not long a-doing." Mistress Mary was
+twenty-two, so of legal age to please herself in her choice of a
+husband; while Simon Glenlivet was still sufficiently a Scotchman at
+heart to consider an alliance with the "ancient and noble family" with
+which he himself claimed kinship an advantage which might fairly
+outbalance his lack of fortune.
+
+To do the young man justice, Mary's wealth counted for nothing in his
+choice; he would as readily have married her had the fortune been all on
+his side. Indeed, it was with some qualms of conscience that Sir Alick
+now wrote to inform his mother of the sudden step which he had taken;
+half fearing that, in the eyes of the proud old Scotch dame, even Mary's
+beauty and fortune could scarcely compensate for her lack of "long
+descent."
+
+And indeed, Lady Glenlivet's Highland pride was not at all well pleased
+to learn that her son had wedded a trader's daughter; though Mary (or
+Maisie, as her husband now called her) had received the education of a
+refined gentlewoman, and was far more well bred and accomplished than
+were the two tall, awkward daughters of the Glenlivet household; or, for
+the matter of that, than was the "auld leddy hersel'."
+
+Lady Glenlivet, however, loved her son, and stifled down her feelings of
+disapproval for his sake. It was undeniable that Mary's money came in
+most usefully in paying off the mortgages which had so long crippled the
+Glenlivet estate; and when the bride and bridegroom arrived at their
+Scotch home, the ladies were speechless in their admiration at the
+bride's "providing." Such marvels of lace and brocades, such treasures
+of jewellery, such a display of new fashions had never been known in the
+neighbourhood before; and Isobel and Barbara, if not inclined to fall
+rapturously in love with their new sister, at least utterly lost their
+hearts over her wardrobe--not such a very extensive or extravagant one
+after all, the bride had thought; but, in the eighteenth century, a
+wealthy London trader's only child would be reared in a far more
+luxurious manner than the daughters of many a "long descended" Scotch
+household.
+
+Mary, or Maisie, certainly found her new home lacking in many comforts
+which were almost necessaries in her eyes; but the girl was young, and
+sweet-tempered, and devotedly attached to her brave young husband, who
+equally adored his young wife. The prejudice excited against the
+new-comer on the score of her nationality and social rank softened down
+as the months went by; although old Lady Glenlivet often remarked that
+Maisie was "just English" whenever the younger lady's opinions or wishes
+did not entirely coincide with her own.
+
+In the kindly patriarchial fashion of Scottish households of the day,
+Sir Alick's mother and sisters still resided under his roof; and Maisie,
+gentle and retiring by nature, never dreamt of attempting to depose the
+old lady from her position of house-mistress; so the "auld leddy" still
+kept the keys, and ruled the servants, and was as busy and notable as of
+yore; her new daughter being, in truth, often far more submissive to the
+good dame's sway than were either Isobel or Barbara, who occasionally
+"took the dorts" and would have their own wills.
+
+Yet Maisie was happy enough in her new life--for had she not Alick and
+his devotion?--until dark clouds began to gather in the political
+horizon.
+
+It was the year 1715, a year to be remembered in many an English and
+Scottish household for many a year to come. Whispers of plots and
+conspiracies were flying about the land; for the coming of the "wee
+German lairdie" was by no means universally acceptable, and many
+Jacobites who had acquiesced in the accession of "good Queen Anne"
+herself (a member of the ancient royal house), now shrank from
+acknowledging "the Elector" as their monarch. Simon Glenlivet, a shrewd
+and prudent man, who had lived in London and watched the course of
+political events, had long ago laid aside any romantic enthusiasm for
+the cause of the exiled Stuarts, if he had ever possessed such a
+feeling; realising perhaps the truth of Sir John Maynard's reply to
+William III. when the king asked the old man if he had not survived
+"all his brother lawyers," "Ay, and if your Majesty had not come, I
+might shortly _have survived the law itself_."
+
+Maisie's father, like most of his brother-citizens, had welcomed the
+"Deliverer" with acclamations, and would doubtless have greeted the
+accession of George I. with equal enthusiasm had he lived to witness it.
+It was only after she crossed the Border that Maisie had heard the son
+of James II. alluded to save as the "Pretender," to whom his enemies
+denied any kinship with the Stuarts at all. Maisie, wise and discreet
+beyond her years, speedily learnt to stifle her own political opinions
+amid her husband's family circle; though indeed she was no eager
+supporter of any party. She had been duly taught that it was a duty to
+submit to the "powers that be," and to pray daily for the king; and like
+a dutiful little maiden of her time, piously obeyed her teacher's and
+guardian's injunctions, without troubling her head as to whether the
+actual lawful monarch of England was keeping his court at St. Germains
+or St. James'. And Maisie's husband, to tell the truth, was scarcely a
+more vehement or interested politician than herself; though Sir Alick
+called himself a Jacobite because his father and mother had been
+Jacobites before him. Lady Glenlivet, a woman of narrow education and
+deeply rooted prejudices, was a strong partisan of the Stuart cause;
+strong with all the unreasoning vehemence of a worthy but ignorant
+woman. So, when the Earl of Mar's disastrous expedition was being
+secretly organised, the emissaries of the plotters found ready
+acceptance with the "auld leddy," who scrupled not to press and urge her
+son to join the "glorious undertaking" which should restore her lawful
+king to Scotland and bring added honours and lands to the Glenlivet
+family. Sir Alick, supremely happy in his domestic life, had at first
+small desire for embarking in the hazardous scheme of the wisdom and
+justice of which he felt less positively assured than did his mother.
+Sir Alick had seen something of the world during his visit to London,
+and had not been entirely uninfluenced by the views of his wise
+kinsman. But Lady Glenlivet was not the only foolish woman at that epoch
+who forced a wiser judging husband, son, or brother into joining a
+conspiracy which his better sense condemned; and Sir Alick, always
+greatly under his mother's influence, at length consented to attend that
+historic meeting at Braemar in the autumn of 1715, where, under pretence
+of a hunting party, the Earl of Mar assembled the disaffected Scottish
+nobility and gentry, and raised the Stuart standard, proclaiming King
+James III. of England and VII. of Scotland.
+
+The "fiery cross" was circulated through the Highlands, and Sir Alick
+returned to his home to raise a troop of his own tenants and clansmen,
+at whose head he proposed to join the Earl of Mar.
+
+Maisie, ordinarily so gentle and retiring, was now roused to unwonted
+and passionate protest. The scheme for the threatened "rising" was not
+unknown in England; and Simon Glenlivet wrote to his quondam ward,
+urging her most strongly to dissuade her husband from joining a rash
+conspiracy which could only bring ruin upon all who were engaged in it.
+
+"'Tis hopeless--and I thank Heaven that it is so--to think of
+overturning the present condition of things," wrote the cautious London
+Scot; "and they who take part in this mad conspiracy--of which the
+English Government have fuller details than the conspirators wot
+of--will but lose their lands, and it may be their heads to boot. I pray
+thee, my pretty Molly, keep thy husband out of this snare."
+
+But this command was not so easily followed. Since his visit to Braemar,
+Alick himself had caught the war fever, and, for once, his wife's
+entreaties, nay, even her tears and prayers, were disregarded by her
+husband! Sir Alick was all love and tenderness, but join the glorious
+expedition he must and would, encouraged in this resolve by mother,
+sister, and kinsfolk; Maisie's being the only dissenting voice; and, as
+Lady Glenlivet tauntingly remarked to her daughter-in-law, "it was not
+for the child of a mere English pock-pudding to decide what was fitting
+conduct for a Highland noble--Maisie should remember she had wedded into
+an honourable house, and not strive to draw her husband aside from the
+path of duty."
+
+Unheeded by her husband, derided and taunted by his mother, Maisie could
+but weep in silent despair.
+
+And so the day of parting came, and Alick, looking splendidly handsome
+in his military attire, stood to take his last farewell of wife and
+kindred, and to drink a parting cup to the success of the expedition.
+
+"Fill me the quaick, Maisie," he said, with a kindly smile turning to
+his pale and heavy-eyed young wife. "Ye'll soon see me come back again
+to bid ye all put on your braws to grace the king's coronation at
+Edinburgh." To which hope Lady Glenlivet piously cried "Amen"; and
+Maisie turned to mix the stirrup cup, for the morning was raw and cold.
+
+"Let Isobel lift the kettle, lass; it's far too heavy for thee," cried
+Lady Glenlivet; but alas! too late, for Maisie stumbled as she turned
+from the fire, and the chief part of the scalding water was emptied into
+one of the young man's long riding boots.
+
+Alick's sudden yell of pain almost drowned Maisie's sobbing cry, and old
+Lady Glenlivet furiously exclaimed, forgetful of all courtesies,--
+
+"Ye wretched gawk! ye little fule! ye ha' killed my puir lad!"
+
+"Nay, nay, na sae bad as that, I judge. Dinna greet, Maisie, my bonnie
+bird--ye couldna help it, my dow," cried Alick, recovering himself, and
+making a heroic effort to conceal the pain he felt. "Look to her, some
+of ye," he added sharply, as Maisie sank fainting on the floor.
+
+It was a very severe scald, said the doctor whom the alarmed household
+quickly summoned, and it would be many a long day before Sir Alick would
+be fit to wear his boot or put foot in saddle again.
+
+But thanks greatly to the devoted nursing he received from wife and
+mother, and to his own youth and health, Sir Alick completely recovered
+from the injury. But in the meantime, the bubble had burst, Sherrifmuir
+had been fought, Mar's army had been totally routed, the prisons in
+England and Scotland had been filled with his misguided followers, and
+the headsman and the hangman were beginning their ghastly work.
+
+Sir Alick, thanks to the accident which had prevented his taking any
+overt part in the rebellion, had escaped both imprisonment and
+confiscation; and it was probably Simon Glenlivet's influence which had
+availed to cover over Sir Alick's dalliance with the Jacobite plotters.
+
+Maisie had proved herself a most tender and efficient nurse, but it was
+now her turn to be ill, and one quiet day, after she had presented her
+lord with an heir to the Glenlivet name, she told him the whole truth
+about that lucky accident with the boiling water; but auld Leddy
+Glenlivet never knew that her son had been saved from a rebel's fate by
+a wife's stratagem.
+
+
+
+
+THE KING'S TRAGEDY.
+
+_AN HISTORICAL TALE._
+
+BY ALFRED H. MILES.
+
+
+In the year 1436, a party of horsemen, weary and belated, were seen
+hurrying amid the deepening darkness of a December day towards the ferry
+of the Firth of Forth. Their high carriage, no less than the quality of
+their accoutrements, albeit dimmed and travel-stained by the splash of
+flood and field, showed them to be more than a mere party of traders
+seeking safety in numbers, and travelling in pursuit of gain. In the
+centre of the group rode a horseman, whose aspect and demeanour marked
+him as the chief, if not the leader, of the band; and by his side a
+lady, whose grace and beauty could not be altogether concealed by the
+closeness of her attire or the darkness of the night. These were the
+King and Queen of Scotland, James the First and his fair wife Joan,
+surrounded by a small band of faithful followers, bound for the
+monastery of the Black Friars of Perth to hold Christmas Carnival.
+
+The weather and the day were wild enough, and these but only too truly
+reflected the surging passions of human hearts. The brave young king's
+desire to put down the marauding practices of his Highland subjects, and
+bring about a condition of things under which a "key" should be
+sufficient keep for a "castle," and a "bracken bush" enough protection
+for a "cow," together with, perhaps, a not always wise way of working so
+good a cause, had provoked the hostility of some of the Highland chiefs
+who lived by stealing their neighbours' property. This disaffection
+became formidable under the leadership of Sir Richard Graeme, brother
+of the Earl of Stratherne, whose earldom had been confiscated by the
+king, who feared its power with perhaps less justice than became his
+high purpose, and James and his retainers had need to watch and ward
+against open enemies and secret foes.
+
+Silently, if not mournfully, the little band moved on, picking its way
+along the uneven shore, and peering anxiously through the deepening
+shadows for signs of the distant ferry. Like a cavalcade of ghosts, but
+dimly seen as dimly seeing, they pressed on, all eyes for what light
+might give them guidance, all ears for what sound might give them
+warning.
+
+As they were descending to the beach, at the point where the ferry
+crossed the water, sight and sound combined to startle if not to terrify
+them; for out from behind a pile of rocks there sprang a wild, weird
+woman, who with waving arms and frantic shouts motioned them to go back.
+In an instant the whole cavalcade was in confusion. The horses reared
+and plunged, the men shouted and demanded who was there, and all the
+while the weird figure, whose tattered garments fluttered fantastically
+in the wind, waved her skinny arms wildly, and shouted, "Go back!"
+
+Thinking that the woman might have some news of importance to the king,
+some of the retainers spurred forward and interrogated her; but she
+would say them nothing but "Go back"; adding at last "For the king
+alone--for the king alone!" Judging that she might desire to warn him of
+some treachery, even among his followers, the king rode forward and
+spoke to her, when, waving her hands towards the water, she screamed,
+"If once you cross that water, you will never return alive!" The king
+asked for news, but the old witch was not a chronicler but a prophetess,
+and catching at the king's rein she sought to turn him back.
+
+By this time the retinue had closed in upon the singular pair, and the
+queen's anxiety doubtless stimulated the king's action. Shaking from his
+rein the woman's hand, he cried, "Forward!" and in a few moments the
+party had left the stormy land for the scarce more stormy sea.
+
+After crossing the Firth of Forth the party made rapid progress, and in
+due course were safely and comfortably housed in the old monastery of
+the Dominicans of Perth. The gaieties of Court and Carnival soon
+obliterated, for a time at least, the memory of the discomforts of the
+journey; and the warning of the old witch, if remembered at all, was
+thought of with pity or dismissed with mirth. The festivities, which
+were maintained with vigour and brilliance for a considerable time,
+surrounded the king with both friends and foes. Sir Robert Stuart, who
+had been promised the kingdom by Sir Richard Graeme, was actually acting
+as chamberlain to the king he was plotting to dethrone; and the Earl of
+Athole and other conspirators were among the guests who, with loyal
+protestations, pledged the king's health and prosperity. Towards the
+close of the Carnival, when the month of February 1437 had almost waned
+to a close, while the rain beat upon the windows and the wind whistled
+wildly around the roof of the old monastery, in grim contrast with the
+scene of merriment that graced the halls within, the guests were
+startled by a loud knocking at the outer door. The king, gayest among
+the gay, was singing "The King's Quhair," a ballad of his own writing,
+when the usher interrupted him to announce the old witch of the Firth of
+Forth. She says "she must have speech with you," said the usher, and
+that her words "admit of no delay." But James was annoyed by the
+interruption, and, as it was midnight, ordered her to be sent away,
+promising to see her on the morrow. Driven forth at the king's command,
+the old beldame wrung her hands, and cried, "Woe! woe! To-morrow I shall
+not see his face!" and the usher, upon the king's interrogation,
+repeated her words to him and to the queen. Upon hearing them, both were
+filled with anxiety and fear, and thinking it best to close the
+festivities of the evening the king gave the signal for the finish of
+the feast, and the guests slowly separated and left the hall. The king's
+chamberlain was the last to leave, and his errand was one of treachery.
+
+During the day the conspirators had been busily preparing for their
+opportunity. The locks of the hall had been tampered with so that their
+keys were of no avail. The bars by which the gates were barricaded were
+removed from their accustomed place. Planks had been surreptitiously
+placed across the moat that the enemy might obtain easy access to the
+stronghold; and Sir Richard Graeme, with three hundred followers in his
+train, was waiting for the signal to advance.
+
+James and his wife stood hand in hand before the log fire of the great
+hall, while the bower-maidens of the queen prepared the royal bed in an
+alcove leading from the chamber. The old crone's warning had struck
+terror to the queen's heart, and unnerved the courage of the king. While
+looking anxiously at the burning logs in the fireplace, again they heard
+the voice of the witch, inarticulate in its frenzy, uttering a wild,
+wailing scream. In an instant the waiting-women had drawn back the
+curtains, and the red glow of a hundred torches flashed upon the walls
+of the Hall. The king looked round for a weapon, but there was none to
+be found; he shouted to the women to shut the bolts, but the bolts had
+been removed; he tried the windows, they were fast and barred; and then,
+hearing the approach of his enemies along the passage, he stood with
+folded arms in the centre of the Hall to wait for death.
+
+Beneath the Hall lay the unused and forgotten vaults of the monastery;
+and in the king's extremity it occurred to Catherine Douglas, one of the
+waiting-women, that these might give the king a chance of escape. There
+was not a moment to lose, so, seizing the heavy tongs from the
+fireplace, she forced them into the king's hand, and motioned him to
+remove the flooring and hide in the crypt below. Spurred to desperation
+the king seized the tongs, and proceeded to force up the flooring of the
+hall; but the sound of his approaching enemies came nearer and nearer,
+and the flooring was strong and tough. To give time the women made a
+desperate attempt to pull a heavy table in front of the door, but it was
+heavier than they could move. In another moment the floor had given way,
+and, with a hurried embrace, the king squeezed through the flooring and
+dropped into the vault. Then came the replacing of the boards--could
+they possibly do it in the time? A clash of arms in the passage showed
+that at least one sentinel was true; but the arm of one was but a poor
+barrier against so large a force. Another moment and the flooring would
+give no evidence of the secret that it held, for the queen and her
+bower-maidens were replacing it with all speed. Again the tread of the
+approaching conspirators; the sentinel has paid for his fidelity with
+death. Is there no arm can save?
+
+At this moment, as with a flash of inspiration, the thought came into
+her mind. Catherine Douglas, one of the bower-maidens, rushed forward
+and thrust her arm through the staple of the removed bolt, and for a
+little while a woman's arm held a hundred men at bay.
+
+It was a terrible moment, and as the poor bruised arm gave way at last
+Catherine Douglas fell fainting to the floor.
+
+Sir Richard Graeme and his followers, having forced an entrance, made
+hot and eager search, but without avail. One of them placed his dagger
+at the queen's breast and demanded to know where the king was, and would
+have killed her had not the young Graeme caught back his arm and said,
+"She is a woman; we seek the king." At last, tired by their fruitless
+search, they left the Hall, and then, unfortunately, the king requested
+the women to draw him up from the vault again. This they attempted to
+do, with ropes made from the sheets from the bed, but they were not
+strong enough, and one of them, a sister of Catherine Douglas, was
+pulled down into the vault below. Attracted by the noise of this
+attempt, the conspirators returned, and the traitor chamberlain revealed
+the secret of the hidden vaults. In a few moments all was over,--the
+flooring was torn up, and, more like wild beasts than men, one after
+another the king's enemies dropped into the vault, attacking him,
+unarmed as he was, and killing him with many wounds. How the queen
+ultimately revenged herself upon the king's assassins is matter of
+history; but the story is chiefly interesting for its record of the
+heroic devotion of Catherine Douglas, who was renamed Kate Barlas, from
+the circumstances of her chivalry, by which name her descendants are
+known to this day.
+
+
+
+
+THE STRANGER.
+
+_A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE._
+
+BY H. G. BELL.
+
+
+Hodnet is a village in Shropshire. Like all other villages in
+Shropshire, or anywhere else, it consists principally of one long
+street, with a good number of detached houses scattered here and there
+in its vicinity. The street is on a slight declivity, on the sunny side
+of what in England they call a hill. It contains the shops of three
+butchers, five grocers, two bakers, and one apothecary. On the right
+hand, as you go south, is that very excellent inn, the Blue Boar; and on
+the left, nearly opposite, is the public hall, in which all sorts of
+meetings are held, and which is alternately converted into a
+dancing-school, a theatre, a ball-room, an auction-room, an
+exhibition-room, or any other kind of room that may be wanted. The
+church is a little farther off, and the parsonage is, as usual, a white
+house surrounded with trees, at one end of the village. Hodnet is,
+moreover, the market-town of the shire, and stands in rather a populous
+district; so that, though of small dimensions itself, it is the
+rallying-place, on any extraordinary occasion, of a pretty numerous
+population.
+
+One evening in February, the mail from London stopped at the Blue Boar,
+and a gentleman wrapped in a travelling cloak came out. The guard handed
+him a small portmanteau, and the mail drove on. The stranger entered the
+inn, was shown into a parlour, and desired that the landlord and a
+bottle of wine should be sent to him. The order was speedily obeyed; the
+wine was set upon the table, and Gilbert Cherryripe himself was the
+person who set it there. Gilbert next proceeded to rouse the slumbering
+fire, remarking, with a sort of comfortable look and tone, that it was a
+cold, raw night. His guest assented with a nod. "You call this village
+Hodnet, do you not?" said he inquiringly. "Yes, sir, this is the town of
+Hodnet" (Mr. Cherryripe did not like the term village), "and a prettier
+little place is not to be found in England." "So I have heard; and as
+you are not upon any of the great roads, I believe you have the
+reputation of being a primitive and unsophisticated race." "Privitive
+and sofiscated, did you say, sir? Why, as to that I cannot exactly
+speak; but, if there is no harm in it, I daresay we are. But you see,
+sir, I am a vintner, and don't trouble my head much about these
+matters." "So much the better," said the stranger, smiling. "You and I
+shall become better friends; I may stay with you for some weeks, perhaps
+months. In the meantime, get me something comfortable for supper, and
+desire your wife to look after my bedroom."
+
+Next day was Sunday. The bells of the village church had just finished
+ringing when the stranger walked up the aisle and entered, as if at
+random, a pew which happened to be vacant. Instantly every eye was
+turned towards him, for a new face was too important an object in Hodnet
+to be left unnoticed. "Who is he?" "When did he come?" "With whom does
+he stay?" "How long will he be here?" "How old may he be?" "Do you think
+he is handsome?" These and a thousand other questions flew about in
+whispers from tongue to tongue, whilst the unconscious object of all
+this interest cast his eyes calmly, and yet penetratingly, over the
+congregation. Nor was it altogether to be wondered at that his
+appearance had caused a sensation among the good people of Hodnet, for
+he was not the kind of person whom one meets with every day. There was
+something both in his face and figure that distinguished him from the
+crowd. You could not look upon him once and then turn away with
+indifference. When the service was over our hero walked out alone, and
+shut himself up for the rest of the day in his parlour at the Blue
+Boar. But speculation was busily at work, and at more than one tea-table
+that evening in Hodnet conjectures were poured out with the tea and
+swallowed with the toast.
+
+A few days elapsed and the stranger was almost forgotten; for there was
+to be a subscription assembly in Hodnet, which engrossed entirely the
+minds of all. It was one of the most important events that had happened
+for at least a century. At length the great, the important night
+arrived. The three professional fiddlers of the village were elevated on
+a table at one end of the hall, and everybody pronounced it the very
+model of an orchestra. The candles were tastefully arranged and
+regularly snuffed. The floor was admirably chalked by a travelling
+sign-painter, engaged for the purpose; and the refreshments in an
+adjoining room, consisting of negus, apples, oranges, cold roast-beef,
+and biscuits, were under the immediate superintendence of our very
+excellent friend, Mr. Gilbert Cherryripe. At nine o'clock, which was
+considered a fashionable hour, the hall was nearly full, and the first
+country dance was commenced by the eldest son and presumptive heir of
+old Squire Thoroughbred, who conducted gracefully through its mazes the
+chosen divinity of his heart, Miss Wilhelmina Bouncer, only daughter of
+Tobias Bouncer, Esq., Justice of Peace in the county of Shropshire.
+
+Enjoyment was at its height, and the three professional fiddlers had put
+a spirit of life into all things, when suddenly one might perceive that
+the merriment was for a moment checked, whilst a more than usual bustle
+pervaded the room. The stranger had entered it; and there was something
+so different in his looks and manner from those of any of the other male
+creatures, that everybody surveyed him with renewed curiosity, which was
+at first slightly tinctured with awe. "Who can he be?" was the question
+that instantaneously started up like a crocus in many a throbbing bosom.
+"He knows nobody, and nobody knows him; surely he will never think of
+asking anybody to dance."
+
+For a long time the stranger stood aloof from the dancers in a corner by
+himself.
+
+At length, something like a change seemed to come over the spirit of his
+dreams. His eye fell on Emily Sommers, and appeared to rest where it
+fell with no small degree of pleasure. No wonder. Emily was not what is
+generally styled beautiful; but there was a sweetness, a modesty, a
+gentleness about her, that charmed the more the longer it was observed.
+She was the only child of a widowed mother. Her father had died many a
+year ago in battle; and the pension of an officer's widow was all the
+fortune he had left them. But nature had bestowed riches of a more
+valuable kind than those which fortune had denied. I wish I could
+describe Emily Sommers; but I shall not attempt it. She was one of those
+whose virtues are hid from the blaze of the world, only to be the more
+appreciated by those who can understand them.
+
+It was to Emily Sommers that the stranger first spoke. He walked right
+across the room and asked her to dance with him. Emily had never seen
+him before; but concluding that he had come there with some of her
+friends, and little acquainted with the rules of etiquette, she
+immediately, with a frank artlessness, smiled an acceptance of his
+request.
+
+It was the custom in Hodnet for the gentlemen to employ the morning of
+the succeeding day in paying their respects to the ladies with whom they
+had danced on the previous evening. Requesting permission to wait upon
+his partner and her mother next day, it was without much difficulty
+obtained. This was surely very imprudent in Mrs. Sommers, and everybody
+said it was very imprudent. "What! admit as a visitor in her family a
+person whom she had never seen in her life before, and who, for anything
+she knew, might be a swindler or a Jew! There was never anything so
+preposterous--a woman, too, of Mrs. Sommers's judgment and propriety! It
+was very--very strange." But whether it was very strange or not, the
+fact is that the stranger soon spent most of his time at Violet Cottage;
+and what is perhaps no less wonderful, notwithstanding his apparent
+intimacy, he remained nearly as much a stranger to its inmates as ever.
+His name, they had ascertained, was Burleigh--Frederick Burleigh; that
+he was probably upwards of eight-and-twenty, and that, if he had ever
+belonged to any profession, it must have been that of arms. But farther
+they knew not. Mrs. Sommers, however, who to a well-cultivated mind
+added a considerable experience of the world, did not take long to
+discover that their new friend was, in every sense of the word, a man
+whose habits and manners entitled him to the name and rank of a
+gentleman; and she thought, too, that she saw in him, after a short
+intercourse, many of those nobler qualities which raise the individual
+to a high and well-merited rank among his species. As for Emily, she
+loved his society she scarcely knew why; yet, when she endeavoured to
+discover the cause, she found it no difficult matter to convince herself
+that there was something about him so infinitely superior to all the men
+she had ever seen that she was only obeying the dictates of reason in
+admiring and esteeming him.
+
+Her admiration and esteem continued to increase in proportion as she
+became better acquainted with him, and the sentiments seemed to be
+mutual. He now spent his time almost continually in her society, and it
+never hung heavy on their hands. The stranger was fond of music, and
+Emily, besides being mistress of her instrument, possessed naturally a
+fine voice. Neither did she sing and play unrewarded; Burleigh taught
+her the most enchanting of all modern languages--the language of
+Petrarch and Tasso; and being well versed in the use of the pencil,
+showed her how to give to her landscapes a richer finish and a bolder
+effect. Then they read together; and as they looked with a smile into
+each other's countenances, the fascinating pages of fiction seemed to
+acquire a tenfold interest. These were evenings of calm but deep
+happiness--long, long to be remembered.
+
+Spring flew rapidly on. March, with her winds and her clouds, passed
+away; April, with her showers and her sunshine, lingered no longer; and
+May came smiling up the blue sky, scattering her roses over the green
+surface of creation. The stranger entered one evening, before sunset,
+the little garden that surrounded Violet Cottage. Emily saw him from
+the window and came out to meet him. She held in her hand an open
+letter. "It is from my cousin Henry," said she. "His regiment has
+returned from France, and he is to be with us to-morrow or next day. We
+shall be so glad to see him! You have often heard us talk of Henry?--he
+and I were playmates when we were children; and though it is a long time
+since we parted, I am sure I should know him again among a hundred."
+"Indeed!" said the stranger, almost starting; "you must have loved him
+very much, and very constantly too." "Oh, yes! I loved him as a brother.
+I am sure you will love him too," Emily added. "Everybody whom you love,
+and who loves you, I also must love, Miss Sommers. But your cousin I
+shall not at present see. I must leave Hodnet to-morrow." "To-morrow!
+Leave Hodnet to-morrow!" Emily grew very pale, and leaned for support
+upon a sun-dial, near which they were standing. "Can it be possible,
+Miss Sommers--Emily--that it is for me you are thus grieved?" "It is so
+sudden," said Emily, "so unexpected; are you never to return again--are
+we never to see you more?" "Do you wish me to return, do you wish to see
+me again, Emily?" he asked. "Oh! how can you ask it?" "Emily, I have
+been known to you under a cloud of mystery, a solitary being, without a
+friend or acquaintance in the world, an outcast apparently from
+society--either sinned against or sinning--without fortune, without
+pretensions; and with all these disadvantages to contend with, how can I
+suppose that I am indebted to anything but your pity for the kindness
+which you have shown to me?" "Pity! pity you! Oh, do not wrong yourself
+thus. No! though you were a thousand times less worthy than I know you
+are, I should not pity, I should----" She stopped confused, a deep blush
+spread over her face, she burst into tears, and would have sunk to the
+ground had not her lover caught her in his arms. "Think of me thus," he
+whispered, "till we meet again, and we may both be happy." "Oh! I will
+think of you thus for ever!" They had reached the door of the cottage.
+"God bless you, Emily," said the stranger; "I dare not see Mrs.
+Sommers; tell her of my departure, but tell her that ere autumn has
+faded into winter I shall again be here. Farewell, dearest, farewell."
+She felt upon her cheek a hot and hurried kiss; and when she ventured to
+look round he was gone.
+
+Henry arrived next day, but there was a gloom upon the spirits of both
+mother and daughter, which it took some time to dispel. Mrs. Sommers
+felt for Emily more than for herself. She now perceived that her child's
+future happiness depended more upon the honour of the stranger than she
+had hitherto been aware, and she trembled to think of the probability
+that in the busy world he might soon forget the very existence of such a
+place as Hodnet, or any of its inhabitants. Emily entertained better
+hopes, but they were the result of the sanguine and unsuspicious
+temperament of youth. Her cousin, meanwhile, exerted himself to the
+utmost to render himself agreeable. He was a young, frank, handsome
+soldier, who had leapt into the very middle of many a lady's heart--red
+coat, sword, epaulette-belt, cocked hat, feathers, and all. But he was
+not destined to leap into Emily's. She had enclosed it within too strong
+a line of circumvallation. After a three months' siege, it was
+impregnable. So Henry, who really loved his cousin, thinking it folly to
+endanger his peace and waste his time any longer, called for his horse
+one morning, shook Emily warmly by the hand, mounted, "and rode away."
+
+Autumn came; the leaves grew red, brown, yellow, and purple; then
+dropped from the high branches, and lay rustling in heaps upon the path
+below. The last roses withered. The last lingering wain conveyed from
+the fields their golden treasure. The days were bright, clear, calm, and
+chill; the nights were full of stars and dew, and the dew, ere morning,
+was changed into silver hoar-frost. The robin hopped across the garden
+walks, and candles were set upon the table before the tea-urn. But the
+stranger came not. Darker days and longer nights succeeded. Winter burst
+upon the earth. But still the stranger came not. Then the lustre of
+Emily's eye grew dim; but yet she smiled, and looked as if she would
+have made herself believe that there was hope.
+
+And so there was; for the mail once more stopped at the Blue Boar; a
+gentleman wrapped in a travelling cloak once more came out of it; and
+Mr. Gilbert Cherryripe once more poked the fire for him in his best
+parlour. Burleigh had returned.
+
+I shall not describe their meeting nor inquire whether Emily's eye was
+long without its lustre. But there was still another trial to be made.
+Would she marry him? "My family," said he, "is respectable, and as it is
+not wealth we seek, I have an independence, at least equal, I should
+hope, to our wishes; but anything else which you may think mysterious
+about me I cannot unravel until you are indissolubly mine." It was a
+point of no slight difficulty; Emily entrusted its decision entirely to
+her mother. Her mother saw that the stranger was inflexible in his
+purpose, and she saw also that her child's happiness was inextricably
+linked with him. What could she do? It had been better perhaps they had
+never known him; but knowing him, and thinking of him as they did, there
+was but one alternative--the risk must be run.
+
+It was run. They were married in Hodnet; and immediately after the
+ceremony they stepped into a carriage and drove away, nobody knew
+whither. It is enough for us to mention that towards twilight they came
+in sight of a magnificent Gothic mansion, situated in the midst of
+extensive and noble parks. Emily expressed her admiration of its
+appearance; and her young husband, gazing on her with impassioned
+delight, exclaimed, "Emily, it is yours! My mind was imbued with
+erroneous impressions of women; I had been courted and deceived by them.
+I believed that their affections were to be won only by flattering their
+vanity or dazzling their ambition. I was resolved that unless I were
+loved for myself I would never be loved at all. I travelled through the
+country _incognito_; I came to Hodnet and saw you. I have tried you in
+every way, and found you true. It was I, and not my fortune, that you
+married; but both are yours. This is Burleigh House; your husband is
+Frederick Augustus Burleigh, Earl of Exeter, and you, my Emily, are his
+countess!"
+
+
+
+
+LOVE WILL FIND A WAY.
+
+_THE STORY OF WINNIFRED COUNTESS OF NITHSDALE._
+
+
+Among the noblemen who, with many misgivings as to the wisdom of the
+attempt, yet felt it their duty to take part in the rising on behalf of
+the young Pretender, which took place in the year 1745, Lord Nithsdale
+was unhappily numbered.
+
+It is unnecessary to detail here the progress of this ill-advised
+enterprise, which ended in general defeat and the capture of those
+principally concerned. Lord Derwentwater, Lord Nithsdale, and other
+noblemen, were immediately brought to trial, and condemned, without hope
+of mercy, to suffer the death of traitors.
+
+Lady Nithsdale, when the first terrible news of her husband's
+apprehension reached her, was at Terreagles, their seat, near Traquhair
+in Peebleshire, and hearing that he much desired the consolation of
+seeing her, she resolved at once to set out for London. It was winter,
+and at that period the roads during this season were often almost
+impassable. She succeeded, however, through great difficulties, in
+reaching Newcastle, and from thence went to York by the stage; but there
+the increased severity of the weather and the depth of the snow would
+not admit of the stage proceeding farther--even the mail could not be
+forwarded. But Lady Nithsdale was on an errand from which no risks might
+deter her. She therefore pursued her way, though the snow was generally
+above the horse's girths, and, in the end, reached London in safety,
+and, supported both in health and spirits by firm resolution, she
+sustained no ill consequences from her perilous journey.
+
+Arrived there, however, she learnt, to her dismay, that she was not to
+be allowed to see her husband, unless she would consent to be imprisoned
+with him in the Tower--a plan she could not consent to, as it would
+prevent her acting on his behalf by soliciting the assistance and
+intercession of friends, and, above all, incapacitate her from carrying
+out the plan of escape she had already formed, should the worst she
+apprehended come true. In spite of the refusal of the Government,
+however, by bribing the guard she obtained frequent interviews with her
+husband up to the day on which the prisoners were condemned; after
+which, for the last week, their families were allowed free admittance to
+take a last leave of them.
+
+From the first moment of her arrival in London she laboured in her
+husband's cause, making application to all persons in authority,
+wherever there was the most distant chance of assistance; but from those
+in power she only received assurances that her cause was hopeless, and
+that for certain reasons her husband was especially reserved for
+vengeance.
+
+Lord Nithsdale, for her sake more than his own, was anxious that a
+petition should be presented to the king in his behalf; trusting, by
+this means, to excite for her his sympathy and indulgence. It was well
+known that the king was especially incensed against Lord Nithsdale, so
+that he is said to have forbidden that any petition should be presented
+for him, or personal address made to him; but the countess, in obedience
+to her lord's wish, resolved to make the attempt, and accordingly
+repaired to court. In the narrative she wrote to her sister of her
+husband's escape, she has given the following account of the
+interview--very little creditable to the feelings of George I., either
+as a king or a gentleman:--
+
+"So the first day that I heard the king was to go to the drawing-room, I
+dressed myself in black, as if I had been in mourning, and sent for Mrs.
+Morgan (the same who accompanied me to the Tower); because, as I did
+not know his Majesty personally, I might have mistaken some other person
+for him. She stayed by me, and told me when he was coming. I had another
+lady with me (Lady Nairn), and we remained in a room between the king's
+apartments and the drawing-room, so that he was obliged to go through
+it; and as there were three windows in it, we sat in the middle one,
+that I might have time enough to meet him before he could pass. I threw
+myself at his feet, and told him, in French, that I was the unfortunate
+Countess of Nithsdale, that he might not pretend to be ignorant of my
+person. But, perceiving that he wanted to go off without receiving my
+petition, I caught hold of the skirt of his coat, that he might stop and
+hear me. He endeavoured to escape out of my hands; but I kept such
+strong hold, that he dragged me on my knees from the middle of the room
+to the very door of the drawing-room. At last one of the blue ribbons
+who attended his Majesty took me round the waist, while another wrested
+the coat out of my hands. The petition, which I had endeavoured to
+thrust into his pocket, fell down in the scuffle, and I almost fainted
+away through grief and disappointment. One of the gentlemen in waiting
+picked up the petition; and as I knew that it ought to have been given
+to the lord of the bedchamber, who was then in waiting, I wrote to him,
+and entreated him to do me the favour to read the petition which I had
+had the honour to present to his Majesty. Fortunately for me it happened
+to be my Lord Dorset, with whom Mrs. Morgan was very intimate.
+Accordingly she went into the drawing-room and delivered him the letter,
+which he received very graciously. He could not read it then, as he was
+at cards with the Prince; but as soon as ever the game was over he read
+it, and behaved (as I afterwards learned) with the warmest zeal for my
+interest, and was seconded by the Duke of Montrose, who had seen me in
+the ante-chamber and wanted to speak to me. But I made him a sign not to
+come near me, lest his acquaintance might thwart my designs. They read
+over the petition several times, but without any success; but it became
+the topic of their conversation the rest of the evening, and the
+harshness with which I had been treated soon spread abroad--not much to
+the honour of the king."
+
+This painful scene happened on Monday, February 13th, and seems to have
+produced no result, unless it may be supposed to have hastened the fate
+of the prisoners; for, on the following Friday, it was decided in
+council that the sentence against them should be carried into effect.
+
+In the meanwhile Lady Derwentwater and other ladies of high rank were
+strenuous in their efforts to avert the execution of the sentence. They
+succeeded in obtaining an interview with the king, though without any
+favourable issue. They also attended at both Houses of Parliament to
+present petitions to the members as they went in. These exertions had a
+decided influence on the feelings of both Houses. In the Commons a
+motion to petition the king in favour of the delinquents was lost by
+only seven votes, and among the Lords a still stronger personal feeling
+and interest was excited; but all proved unavailing, and Lady Nithsdale,
+after joining with the other ladies in this ineffectual attendance, at
+length found that all her hope and dependence must rest on her
+long-formed scheme of bringing about her husband's escape. She had less
+than twenty-four hours for arranging it in all its details, and for
+persuading the accomplices who would be necessary to her to enter into
+so hazardous a project. In these she seems to have been peculiarly
+fortunate; but the history of this remarkable escape can only be given
+in her own words, taken from the interesting and spirited narrative she
+wrote of it:--
+
+"As the motion had passed generally (that the petitions should be read
+in the Lords, which had only been carried after a warm debate) I thought
+I would draw some advantage in favour of my design. Accordingly I
+immediately left the House of Lords and hastened to the Tower; where,
+affecting an air of joy and satisfaction, I told all the guards I passed
+that I came to bring joyful tidings to the prisoner. I desired them to
+lay aside their fears, for the petition had passed the House in their
+favour. I then gave them some money to drink to the lords and his
+Majesty, though it was but trifling; for I thought that if I were too
+liberal on the occasion they might suspect my designs, and that giving
+them something would gain their good humour and services for the next
+day, which was the eve of the execution. The next morning I could not go
+to the Tower, having so many things on my hands to put in readiness; but
+in the evening, when all was ready, I sent for Mrs. Mills, with whom I
+lodged, and acquainted her with my design of attempting my lord's
+escape, as there was no prospect of his being pardoned, and this was the
+last night before the execution. I told her that I had everything in
+readiness, and that I trusted she would not refuse to accompany me, that
+my lord might pass for her. I pressed her to come immediately, as we had
+no time to lose. At the same time I sent for Mrs. Morgan, then usually
+known by the name of Hilton, to whose acquaintance my dear Evans (her
+maid) had introduced me--which I looked upon as a very singular
+happiness. I immediately communicated my resolution to her. She was of a
+very tall and slender make; so I begged her to put under her own
+riding-hood one that I had prepared for Mrs. Mills, as she was to lend
+hers to my lord, that in coming out he might be taken for her. Mrs.
+Mills was not only of the same height, but nearly the same size as my
+lord. When we were in the coach I never ceased talking, that they might
+have no leisure to reflect. Their surprise and astonishment when I first
+opened my design to them had made them consent, without ever thinking of
+the consequences.
+
+"On our arrival at the Tower, the first I introduced was Mrs. Morgan;
+for I was only allowed to take in one at a time. She brought in the
+clothes that were to serve Mrs. Mills when she left her own behind her.
+When Mrs. Morgan had taken off what she had brought for my purpose, I
+conducted her back to the staircase; and, in going, I begged her to send
+me in my maid to dress me; that I was afraid of being too late to
+present my last petition that night if she did not come immediately. I
+despatched her safe, and went partly downstairs to meet Mrs. Mills, who
+had the precaution to hold her handkerchief to her face--as was very
+natural for a woman to do when she was going to bid her last farewell to
+a friend on the eve of his execution. I had, indeed, desired her to do
+it, that my lord might go out in the same manner. Her eyebrows were
+rather inclined to be sandy, and my lord's were dark and very thick;
+however, I had prepared some paint of the colour of hers to disguise his
+with. I also bought an artificial head-dress of the same coloured hair
+as hers; and I painted his face with white and his cheeks with rouge, to
+hide his long beard, which he had not had time to shave. All this
+provision I had before left in the Tower.
+
+"The poor guards, whom my liberality the day before had endeared me to,
+let me go quietly with my company, and were not so strictly on the watch
+as they usually had been; and the more so as they were persuaded from
+what I had told them the day before that the prisoners would obtain
+their pardon. I made Mrs. Mills take off her own hood and put on that
+which I had brought her. I then took her by the hand and led her out of
+my lord's chamber; and in passing through the next room, in which there
+were several people, with all the concern imaginable I said, 'My dear
+Mrs. Catherine, go in all haste and send me my waiting-maid; she
+certainly cannot reflect how late it is; she forgets that I am to
+present a petition to-night, and if I let slip this opportunity I am
+undone; for to-morrow will be too late. Hasten her as much as possible;
+for I shall be on thorns till she comes.' Everybody in the room, who
+were chiefly the guards' wives and daughters, seemed to compassionate me
+exceedingly; and the sentinel officiously opened the door.
+
+"When I had seen her out I returned back to my lord and finished
+dressing him. I had taken care that Mrs. Mills did not go out crying, as
+she came in, that my lord might the better pass for the lady who came in
+crying and afflicted; and the more so because he had the same dress she
+wore. When I had almost finished dressing my lord in all my petticoats
+excepting one, I perceived that it was growing dark, and was afraid that
+the light of the candles might betray us, so I resolved to set off. I
+went out, leading him by the hand; and he held his handkerchief to his
+eyes. I spoke to him in the most piteous and afflicted tone of voice,
+bewailing bitterly the negligence of Evans, who had ruined me by her
+delay. Then said I, 'My dear Mrs. Betty, for the love of God run quickly
+and bring her with you. You know my lodging, and, if ever you made
+despatch in your life, do it at present. I am distracted with this
+disappointment.' The guards opened the doors, and I went downstairs with
+him, still conjuring to make all possible despatch. As soon as he had
+cleared the door, I made him walk before me, for fear the sentinel
+should take notice of his walk; but I still continued to press him to
+make all the despatch he possibly could. At the bottom of the stairs I
+met my dear Evans, into whose hands I confided him.[3]
+
+[Footnote 3: Thus one more person left Lord Nithsdale's prison
+than had entered it. Three had gone in, and four came out. But
+so long as women only passed, and these two at a time, the
+guards probably were not particularly watchful. This inevitable
+difficulty in the plan of the escape makes Lady Nithsdale's
+admirable self-possession of manner in conducting it the more
+conspicuous. Any failure on her part would have awakened the
+suspicions of the bystanders.]
+
+"I had before engaged Mr. Mills to be in readiness before the Tower to
+conduct him to some place of safety, in case he succeeded. He looked
+upon the affair as so very improbable to succeed, that his astonishment,
+when he saw us, threw him into such consternation that he was almost out
+of himself; which Evans perceiving, with the greatest presence of mind,
+without telling him (Lord Nithsdale) anything, lest he should mistrust
+them, conducted him to some of her own friends on whom she could rely,
+and so secured him; without which we should have been undone. When she
+had conducted him, and left him with them, she returned to find Mr.
+Mills, who by this time had recovered himself from his astonishment.
+They went home together, and having found a place of security, they
+conducted him to it.
+
+"In the meanwhile, as I had pretended to have sent the young lady on a
+message, I was obliged to return upstairs and go back to my lord's room
+in the same feigned anxiety of being too late; so that everybody seemed
+sincerely to sympathise with my distress. When I was in the room, I
+talked to him as if he had been really present; and answered my own
+questions in my lord's voice as nearly as I could imitate it. I walked
+up and down as if we were conversing together, till I thought they had
+time enough thoroughly to clear themselves of the guards. I then thought
+proper to make off also. I opened the door, and stood half in it, that
+those in the outward chamber might hear what I said; but held it so
+close that they could not look in. I bid my lord a formal farewell for
+that night; and added, that something more than usual must have happened
+to make Evans negligent on this important occasion, who had always been
+so punctual in the smallest trifle; that I saw no other remedy than to
+go in person; that if the Tower were still open when I finished my
+business I would return that night; but that he might be assured that I
+would be with him as early in the morning as I could gain admittance to
+the Tower; and I flattered myself I should bring favourable news. Then,
+before I shut the door, I pulled the string through the latch, so that
+it could only be opened on the inside. I then shut it with some degree
+of force, that I might be sure of its being well shut. I said to the
+servant as I passed by, who was ignorant of the whole transaction, that
+he need not carry candles in to his master till my lord sent for him, as
+he desired to finish some prayers first. I went downstairs and called a
+coach, as there were several on the stand. I drove home to my lodgings,
+where poor Mr. Mackenzie had been waiting to carry the petition, in case
+my attempt failed. I told him there was no need of any petition, as my
+lord was safe out of the Tower and out of the hands of his enemies, but
+that I did not know where he was.
+
+"I then desired one of the servants to call a chair, and I went to the
+Duchess of Montrose, who had always borne a part in my distresses. She
+came to me; and as my heart was in an ecstasy of joy, I expressed it in
+my countenance as she entered the room. I ran up to her in the transport
+of my joy. She appeared to be exceedingly shocked and frighted, and has
+since confessed to me that she apprehended my trouble had thrown me out
+of myself till I communicated my happiness to her. She then advised me
+to retire to some place of security, for that the king was highly
+displeased, and even enraged, at the petition I had presented to him,
+and had complained of it severely, and then said she would go to court
+and see how the news of my lord's escape was received. When the news was
+brought to the king, he flew into an excess of passion, and said he was
+betrayed; for it could not have been done without some confederacy. He
+instantly despatched two persons to the Tower to see that the other
+prisoners were secure, lest they should follow the example. Some threw
+the blame upon one, some upon another. The duchess was the only one at
+court who knew it.
+
+"When I left the duchess, I went to a house which Evans had found out
+for me, and where she promised to acquaint me where my lord was. She got
+thither some few minutes after me, and took me to the house of a poor
+woman, directly opposite to the guard-house, where my lord was. She had
+but one small room, up one pair of stairs, and a very small bed in it.
+We threw ourselves upon the bed, that we might not be heard walking up
+and down. She left us a bottle of wine and some bread, and Mrs. Mills
+brought us some more in her pocket next day. We subsisted on this
+provision from Thursday till Saturday night, when Mrs. Mills came and
+conducted my lord to the Venetian ambassador's. We did not communicate
+the affair to his excellency; but one of his servants concealed him in
+his own room till Wednesday, on which day the ambassador's coach-and-six
+was to go down to Dover to meet his brother. My lord put on a livery,
+and went down in the retinue, without the least suspicion, to Dover,
+where M. Michel (the ambassador's servant) hired a small vessel and
+immediately set sail for Calais. The passage was so remarkably short
+that the captain threw out this reflection, that the wind could not
+have served better if his passengers had been flying for their lives,
+little thinking it to be really the case.
+
+"For my part," continues Lady Nithsdale, "I absconded to the house of a
+very honest man in Drury Lane, where I remained till I was assured of my
+lord's safe arrival on the Continent. I then wrote to the Duchess of
+Buccleugh and entreated her to procure leave for me to go with safety
+about my business. So far from granting my request, they were resolved
+to secure me, if possible. After several debates it was decided that if
+I remained concealed no further search should be made, but that if I
+appeared either in England or Scotland I should be secured."
+
+On first hearing of her husband's apprehension, she had thought it
+prudent to conceal many important family papers and other valuables, and
+having no person at hand with whom they could be safely entrusted, had
+hid them underground, in a place known only to the gardener, in whom she
+could entirely confide. This had proved a happy precaution, for, after
+her departure, the house had been searched, and, as she expressed it,
+"God only knows what might have transpired from those papers." In
+addition to the danger of their being discovered, there was the imminent
+risk of their being destroyed by damp, so that no time must be lost in
+regaining them before too late. She therefore determined on another
+journey to the north, and, for greater secrecy, on horseback, though
+this mode of travelling, which was new to her, was extremely fatiguing.
+She, however, with her maid, Mrs. Evans, and a servant that could be
+depended on, set out from London, and reached Traquhair in safety and
+without any one being aware of her intentions. Here she ventured to rest
+two days, in the society of her sister-in-law and Lord Traquhair,
+feeling security in the conviction that, as the lord-lieutenant of the
+county was an old friend of her husband's, he would not allow any search
+to be made after her without first giving her warning to abscond. From
+thence she proceeded to Terreagles, whither it was supposed she came
+with the permission of Government; and to keep up that opinion, she
+invited her neighbours to visit her. That same night she dug up the
+papers from their hiding-place, where happily they had sustained no
+injury, and sent them at once, by safe hands, to Traquhair. This was
+accomplished just in time, for the magistrates of Dumfries began to
+entertain suspicions of her right to be there, and desired to see her
+leave from Government. On hearing this, "I expressed," she says, "my
+surprise that they had been so backward in paying their respects; 'but,'
+said I, 'better late than never: be sure to tell them that they shall be
+welcome whenever they choose to come.' This was after dinner; but I lost
+no time to put everything in readiness, but with all possible secrecy;
+and the next morning, before daybreak, I set off again for London, with
+the same attendants, and, as before, I put up at the smallest inns, and
+arrived safe once more."
+
+George I. could not forgive Lady Nithsdale for the heroic part she had
+acted: he refused, in her case, the allowance or dower which was granted
+to the wives of the other lords. "A lady informed me," she says, "that
+the king was extremely incensed at the news; that he had issued orders
+to have me arrested, adding that I did whatever I pleased, despite of
+all his designs, and that I had given him more trouble than any woman in
+all Europe. For which reason I kept myself as closely concealed as
+possible, till the heat of these rumours had abated. In the meanwhile, I
+took the opinion of a very famous lawyer, who was a man of the strictest
+probity: he advised me to go off as soon as they had ceased searching
+for me. I followed his advice, and, in about a fortnight after, I
+escaped without any accident whatever."
+
+She met her husband and children at Paris, whither they had come from
+Bruges to meet her. They soon afterwards joined the Pretender's court at
+Avignon; but, finding the mode of life there little to their taste,
+shortly after returned to Italy, where they lived in great privacy.
+
+Lord Nithsdale lived, after his escape, nearly thirty years, and died at
+Rome in 1744. His wife survived him five years: she had the comfort of
+having provided a competency for her son by her hazardous journey to
+Terreagles, though his title and principal estates had been confiscated
+by his father's attainder. He married Lady Catherine Stewart, daughter
+of the Earl and Countess of Traquhair. Her daughter, the Lady Anne
+Maxwell, became the wife of Lord Bellew.
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the
+original print edition have been corrected. No other alterations have
+been made to the original text.
+
+In "Margot: The Martyr", "the burning larva" has been changed to "the
+burning lava".
+
+In "Nadine: The Princess", a colon was added following "The silence was
+broken by Maura, saying"; a quotation mark was added following "the
+subject is never mentioned to her"; and a quotation mark has been
+deleted preceding "O---- was a fearful place".
+
+In "My Year at School", a quotation mark was added before "The history
+prize has been awarded".
+
+In "The Silver Star", "her exhibiton work" has been changed to "her
+exhibition work".
+
+In "Uncle Tone", a comma has been added after "he shut himself off from
+all society"; and "discourtsey" has been changed to "discourtesy".
+
+In "The Missing Letter", a quotation mark was added after "he shall have
+it now."
+
+In "The Magic Carpet", a quotation mark has been added before "The
+book?" and before "The Magic Cabinet!"; and "half-cirle" has been
+changed to "half-circle".
+
+In "Only Tim", "A little latter" has been changed to "A little later";
+and "pepples" has been changed to "pebbles".
+
+In "The Colonel's Boy", "mischevously" has been changed to
+"mischievously".
+
+In "The Trevern Treasure", "no opportunity for Sybil Trevern ro return"
+has been changed to "no opportunity for Sybil Trevern to return";
+"frequently rasults in misadventure" has been changed to "frequently
+results in misadventure"; and "the disaster of Sherifmuir" has been
+changed to "the disaster of Sherrifmuir".
+
+In "Dora", "Miss Dora "ll be marryin'" has been changed to "Miss Dora
+'ll be marryin'"; and "'e ses. solemn" has been changed to "'e ses
+solemn".
+
+In "Little Peace", "Beneath this ortrait" has been changed to "Beneath
+this portrait"; "Blessed are the pacemakers" has been changed to
+"Blessed are the peacemakers"; and a quotation mark has been added
+before "Because old Gaffer Cressidge".
+
+In "The Story of Wassili and Daria", "dressed in their most brillant
+manner" has been changed to "dressed in their most brilliant manner".
+
+In "The Pedlar's Pack", a quotation mark has been removed in front of
+"If I didn't think".
+
+In "The Unbidden Guest", quotation marks have been added in front of
+"Dad believes what he's agoing to tell you" and in front of "I was
+a-looking at mother"; "'Nothin', says I" has been changed to "'Nothin','
+says I"; and "'Nothin,' says she" has been changed to "'Nothin',' says
+she".
+
+In "A Strange Visitor", a quotation mark has been added in front of "I
+must apologise for intruding upon you".
+
+In "Billjim", "as similiar as possible" has been changed to "as similar
+as possible"; and "See bathed his temples" has been changed to "She
+bathed his temples".
+
+In "The Tiny Folk of Langaffer", a quotation mark has been added in
+front of "'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' That means something."
+
+In "The Kingfisher", "their voices lease my ears" has been changed to
+"their voices please my ears".
+
+In "Caspar the Cobbler", "masonary and stone-carving" has been changed
+to "masonry and stone-carving"; "his workship in the old garret" has
+been changed to "his workshop in the old garret"; and a quotation mark
+has been added after "exhibits his good breeding."
+
+In "The Story of Grizel Cochrane", "In futherance of this plan" has been
+changed to "In furtherance of this plan".
+
+In "The Stranger", a quotation mark has been added before "Can it be
+possible".]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifty-Two Stories For Girls, by Various
+
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