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diff --git a/37946.txt b/37946.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3649014 --- /dev/null +++ b/37946.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8952 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature +and Science, Volume 20. December, 1877., 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: Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 20. December, 1877. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 7, 2011 [EBook #37946] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE OF *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE + +OF + +_POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE_. + +DECEMBER, 1877. + +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT +& Co., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + + +A MONTH IN SICILY. + +FIRST PAPER. + + +[Illustration: LA FAVORITA.] + +Early on the morning of the first of February we stood on the deck of the +steamer for Palermo, watching the sun rise over the water. Far away in the +south the blue edge of the sea began to grow bluer with the rising of the +distant land. A fresh breeze blew from the shore--not a pleasant feature in +February weather at home, but suggesting comparisons with the warmest +morning of a New England May. With the swift advance of the steamer the +blue line in the south rapidly rose above the level of the sea into the +definite shape of a rugged mountain-range: gradually the blueness of +distance changed to rich shades of brown and red on the jagged, treeless +summits, and to deepest green where long orange-farms border the bases of +the mountains. + +Who has not longed to see Sicily? Every one who loves poetry, romance or +the history of ancient civilization must often turn in thought to this +beautiful and famous Mediterranean island. To the most ancient poets it was +a mysterious land, where dwelt the monster Charybdis and the bloody +Laestrigones; where Ulysses met the Cyclops; where the immortal gods waged +battles with the giant sons of Earth, and bound Enceladus in his eternal +prison. No doubt it was the terrific natural phenomena of Sicily--the +earthquakes and the outbursts of Etna--which rendered it so much a land of +horrors to the early Greek imagination. But in that far-distant age it was +not only the terrors of the place that had worked upon the imaginative +Greeks: the almost tropical luxuriance of the country, the unrivalled +scenery, the brilliancy of the sky, made it a fitting ground for the +adventures of nymphs, heroes and gods. In the fountain of Sicilian Ortygia +dwelt Arethusa, the nymph dear to the poets; beside the Lake of Enna, where +rich vegetation overran the lips of the extinct volcano, was the spot +called in mythology the meeting-place of Pluto and Proserpine--the power of +darkness and the springing plant personified; and so through all the +country places were found made sacred by the presence of the great +divinities, and temples were erected in their honor. + +When the age of fable had passed away, far back in the early dawn of +European history begins authentic knowledge about Sicily. While wicked Ahaz +reigned in the kingdom of Judah, and Isaiah had not ceased to utter his +prophecies, the Greek colonization of Sicily began. Seven hundred and +thirty-five years before Christ, Theocles with his band of Greeks from +Euboea founded Naxos on the coast, hard by the fertile slopes of Etna. +Within three centuries from that time the whole Sicilian coast had been +studded with Greek cities, and to such wealth, power and splendor of art +had they attained that all succeeding epochs of the island's history seem +degenerate times when compared with that early golden age. + +It has been truly said that "there is not a nation which has materially +influenced the destinies of European civilization that has not left +distinct traces of its activity in this island." Phoenicians, Greeks, +Romans, Saracens, Normans, Spaniards, French and English have successively +occupied the island, and noble monuments of the varied civilizations are +standing to this day. Scattered through the island, their architectural +remains crown the mountain-tops or lie in confusion along the Mediterranean +shore, a series of ruins extending through twenty-five centuries, unmatched +in any other country for variety of age and style. + +At ten o'clock our steamer entered the Gulf of Palermo, passing near the +base of Monte Pellegrino, a wild promontory which towers up two thousand +feet from the sea. On the day before I had entered for the first time the +famous Bay of Naples, but with less delight than I now looked upon the +beauties of this Sicilian gulf. Flanked with lofty mountains, colored with +the matchless blue of the Mediterranean, studded with picturesque lateen +sails, the bay is a fitting entrance to this fair historic island: a more +beautiful approach could hardly be imagined even to the Islands of the +Blessed. + +The Italians call Palermo _la felice_ ("the happy"). It is most happy in +its climate, its situation and its noble streets and gardens. Below the +city lies the lovely bay: behind it stretches back for miles, between +converging mountain-chains, the fruit-producing level of the Golden Shell +(_La Conca d'Oro_). The plain is one vast orchard of oranges and lemons +which every year distributes its huge crop over half the habitable globe. +The city is worthy of its position. The chief streets are broad, clean and +handsomely built--a contrast to the universal shabbiness and squalor we had +found in Naples. + +[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF PALERMO.] + +A traveller is sure to be put in a good humor with the place by the many +and unusual comforts which he meets in the great sea-fronting hotel; and +the first look from the windows of his apartment confirms the opinion that +Palermo is the fairest of Southern cities. The outlook is upon the grand +seashore drive, the Marina, as gay and pretty a sight as can be found in +any European capital. The broad, tree-shaded avenue, bordered on one side +by hotels and palaces, on the other by the waters of the bay, is thronged +with private carriages. Beginning at the sea-facing gate of the city, the +road commands through all its length a view of the mountains, the bay and +the open sea: at its terminus lie the public flower-gardens--acres of our +choicest hothouse plants growing in tropical profusion. + +In Palermo, as in so many European towns, the cathedral is the chief +architectural attraction. To approach it from the bay the whole length of +the city must be traversed on the Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, the chief +business street. This corso is crossed at the centre of the town by another +of equal width, which also commemorates by its name Italian unity--the +Corso Garibaldi. There is one other broad and important street which no +American can enter without remembering that even in this distant land the +interest and sympathy of the people have been with our country in its +struggles and successes: it is the Via Lincoln. + +The drive up the Corso gives an opportunity for seeing a remarkably +handsome street lined with gay shops, and for studying the peculiar and +often fine faces of the Sicilian people; but nothing of striking interest +appears until, near the centre of the town, a street opening on the left +discloses a vista ending in a small forest of white marble statues. On a +nearer view it is found that the statues belong to the immense fountain of +the Piazza Pretoria, a work erected about A. D. 1550 by command of the +senate of Palermo. It is perhaps the largest and most elaborate fountain in +Europe, and, though it is easy to criticise the countless sculptures that +adorn it, the whole effect of their combination into an architectural unit +is most imposing. + +Continuing the drive up the Corso, a broad piazza suddenly opens on the +right, flanked by the cathedral. The abruptness of the transition from +between the dark lines of buildings into the sunlight of the square adds to +the first strong impression produced by the beauty of the vast duomo. In +its external architecture the church is unique: the charm of it to one who +has been travelling through Italy is its utter dissimilarity to all the +Italian churches. Architectural writers call it a building of the "Sicilian +Gothic style;" and, though the expression does not convey a vivid image +except to the student of art, any one can see its essential difference from +the style of the North, and can recognize the rare grandeur and beauty of +the church. The form is simple, but the dimensions are grand. Without the +boldness of outline of true Gothic churches, the walls are so covered with +ornaments of interlacing arches, cornices and arabesque slightly raised on +the masonry as to produce an effect of wonderful richness. The style is +peculiarly Sicilian, yet every observer of mediaeval churches will at once +detect the Norman, Italian and Saracenic influences blended in an exquisite +harmony. Connected with the church by light arches, but separated from it +by a street, stands the campanile, a mass of enormous solidity, terminating +in many pinnacles and one slender and graceful tower rising above them all. +Four other lofty towers, springing from the corners of the church, give +additional lightness to its elegant design: they were added to the building +nearly three centuries after the Norman conquest of Sicily, and yet their +minaret-like form and pointed panel ornaments show how strong and lasting +had been the influence of Arabian art upon the mediaeval architects of +Sicily. + +[Illustration: GROTTO OF SANTA ROSALIA.] + +It is seven hundred years since the foundations of the duomo were laid. In +that distant age, and in a land so remote, it is a curious circumstance +that its founder was an Englishman: _Gualterio Offamilio_ is the amusing +Italian corruption by which the name of Walter of the Mill was suited to +the Southern tongue. After Roger and his Normans had driven from Sicily the +Arab power which had held the land for more than two centuries, and when +Christianity had succeeded the Mohammedan religion throughout the island, +Archbishop Walter assumed spiritual sovereignty in Palermo, and founded +this cathedral on the site of an ancient mosque. Only a part of the +original building remains in the crypt and two walls of the present church. +All subsequent ages have changed and added to its original simple form, but +often have taken from its beauty. Within the church only a part of the +south aisle commands close attention: there in canopied sarcophagi of +porphyry reposes the dust of Roger, king of Sicily (1154), of Henry VI., +emperor of Germany, and of Frederick II., Roger's most illustrious +grandson, king of Sicily, king of Jerusalem and emperor of Germany. In a +chapel at the right of the high altar, sacred to Santa Rosalia, rest the +bones of the saint enshrined in a sarcophagus of silver. Thirteen hundred +pounds of the precious metal are wrought into the shrine, and the whole +chapel is sumptuous with marble frescoes and gilding, for to the pious +souls of Palermo this is the very holy of holies. The cathedral is +dedicated to Rosalia, and almost divine honors are paid to her by the city +from which she fled in horror at its wickedness. + +Every summer a festival of three days is held in honor of this favorite +saint; and again in September a day is kept to commemorate her death, when +a vast concourse of people from Palermo climb the side of the neighboring +Monte Pellegrino to worship at the grotto of St. Rosalia, a natural cavern +situated under an overhanging crag of the summit. Here the faithful +Sicilians believe that the holy maiden dwelt in solitude for many years; +and here were found in 1624 the bones of the saint, which put a stop to the +plague then raging in Palermo. The cave has been made a church by building +a porch at the entrance. Twisted columns of alabaster support the roof of +the vestibule, but within the cavern the walls are of the natural rock, +contrasting strangely with the magnificent workmanship of the high altar, +beneath which lies the marble statue of the saint overlaid with a robe of +gold, while about the recumbent figure are placed a book and skull and +other objects of pure gold. It is a figure of a fair young girl, +represented by the artist as dying, with her head at rest upon one hand. +Though the statue is the work of no very famous artist, Goethe in the +narrative of his Sicilian travel has truly said of it, "The head and hands +of white marble are, if not faultless in style, at least so pleasing and +natural that one cannot help expecting to see them move." + +Under the southern precipices of this Mountain of the Pilgrim lies a royal +park, and in the midst of it stands a gaudy and fantastic villa called La +Favorita. The house is worth a visit for the sake of seeing what a +half-crazy fancy will produce when united with royal wealth. King Ferdinand +I., during his stay in Sicily early in this century, amused himself by +building this country palace in the style of a Chinese villa, and adorned +it with innumerable little bells, to be rung by every movement of the wind. + +It was in the Favorita that the old king found himself cornered by Lord +William Bentinck and his army during the British occupation of the island +in 1812. It is said that his faithful subjects from Palermo encamped by +thousands in the neighborhood--not, however, for the sake of defending +their aged monarch, but to enjoy the fun of witnessing a fight in which +both sides were hated by them with equal cordiality. + +To an enterprising traveller some of the pleasantest hours of a long tour +are those when, cutting loose from all guides and books, he wanders alone +through the streets of an old city, enjoying with a sense of discovery the +scraps of antiquity not described in any book which he is sure to meet +with. Palermo and its neighborhood afford a most fertile field for such +researches. The Saracenic villas of the suburbs and the early Norman +buildings of the town will repay considerable patience spent in looking up +the beauties to be found in the details of their construction. For +instance, in the plain old church of S. Agostino there is a doorway and +wheel window one sight of which is an ample reward for much wandering and +searching. + +[Illustration: MONREALE] + +On a morning too fresh and beautiful for staying in the city we rendered a +vivacious cabman ecstatically happy by an engagement to drive us to +Monreale. A brisk drive past the royal palace, out of the southern gate and +five miles across the orange-covered plain brought us to the foot of an +abrupt mountain. Not a half mile away, but far above, on the seemingly +unapproachable heights, was perched the quaint village which was our +destination: its ancient towering buildings glittered white and hot in the +February sun under the canopy of cloudless blue. Ascending for half an hour +on the well-constructed zigzag road, we stopped at the gate in the +town-wall to buy the luscious-looking fruit of the cactus from a road-side +vender, one of those ideal hags, apparently preserved by desiccation under +the torrid sun, whom only Italy can produce in perfection. Then onward and +upward we pushed through the village street--a street characteristic of +these Southern walled villages, narrow, dark, festooned above with +interminable lines of drying macaroni, covered below with abundant filth, +and bordered by house-walls of enormous thickness, built for resisting +heat. At every house-door or on the pavement in front sits the man of the +house plying his trade, that all the world may know whether his goods are +well made or ill. Up and down the street flow the lines of dark-eyed, +swarthy people--women robed in rags, occasionally set off by a bit of +striking color; children who in their astonishment become rigid at the +sight of a foreigner; here and there an officer of the Italian army +carefully picking his way through the mud; and everywhere produce-laden +asses driven toward Palermo by the most picturesque of cut-throats, for +without its ever-present force of soldiers Monreale would at once relapse +into a hotbed of brigandage, as its recent history shows. + +Almost at the summit of the town, facing a broad, paved square, stands the +cathedral and its adjacent Benedictine monastery, both built upon the brink +of the precipitous mountain, and both in external appearance severely +plain, almost to shabbiness. + +William II., king of Sicily, called the Good, founded on this Royal Mount a +monastery for the Benedictine friars, and built it up with all the strength +of a fortress and the magnificence of a palace. Little is left of that +original building, which was finished in 1174, but in its few remains have +fortunately been preserved the most splendid of cloisters. This scene of +centuries of Benedictine meditations is a large quadrangle surrounded by an +arcade of multitudinous small pointed arches resting upon pairs of slender +white marble columns, like stalks of snow-white lilies in their grace and +lightness. Some of the marble shafts are wrought with reliefs of flowers +and trailing vines, while most of them were inlaid in bands or spirals of +mosaic in gold and colors, now injured by age. The capitals which crown +these shafts are exquisitely carved, and all mythology, the legends of the +Church and the book of Nature have been ransacked to furnish subjects for +the designs; so that out of two hundred or more no two are similar. All the +decaying magnificence of the great building is pervaded by an oppressive +silence, for it is one of the innumerable religious houses suppressed by +the Italian government. + +From the monastery to the cathedral is a walk of but a few steps. All +disappointment at the external plainness is forgotten in approaching the +chief entrance of the church. Michael Angelo said of Ghiberti's doors at +Florence that "they were worthy to be the entrance to Paradise." They have +rightly become famous through all the world, and yet these doors of +Monreale leave on the mind of the beholder a strong impression of their +beauty not less lasting than the Baptistery gates at Florence. In the +execution of the biblical reliefs which completely encrust the massive +leaves of bronze they must yield, of course, to the mature art of +Ghiberti's later age; but the stately height of the solid metal doors, the +alternate bands of mosaic and wrought-stone arabesques which flank them and +surround over head the Arabian arch, and, above all, the sense that they +conceal from view unparalleled splendors beyond, leave on the mind an +impression which cannot be effaced. + +Perhaps no other building deserves the epithet "splendid" so exactly as the +cathedral of Monreale: the whole interior is radiant from the vast extent +of its pictured walls. All the walls and vaulting of the nave and aisles, +transepts and tribune, are overspread with ancient mosaics on a golden +ground. It is natural to compare St. Mark's cathedral at Venice with this +church, on account of its immense mosaic-covered surface: its sumptuous +interior delights every beholder with the satisfying completeness which +belongs to it; yet in all the Oriental splendor of the Venetian church +nothing can equal in impressiveness a glance down the nave of Monreale. +Wherever the eye turns it rests upon the glowing colors of some sacred +picture--scenes from the Old Testament history, bright-robed figures of +flying angels, haloed saints in the quaint Byzantine style, apostles and +martyrs, patriarchs and prophets, and, high above them all, from a great +picture in the vaulting of the apse, a startling face of Christ looking +solemnly down through the length of the cathedral. Half the stiffness which +characterizes these early mosaics seems to have been cast aside in treating +this supreme subject. The colossal size of the figure, the hand raised in +blessing the multitude, the sad but awful expression of the countenance, +make it an all-pervading presence in the church. Amid all the glittering +splendor of the building, while the gorgeous pomp of a holiday mass +progressed and rippling strains of organ-music ran echoing through the +arches, through all the bewildering brightness of the spectacle, the +majesty of that Presence could not for a moment be forgotten, nor could the +eyes avoid straying off from the glitter below to answer again and again to +that solemn gaze above. + +[Illustration: LA ZIZA.] + +It is impossible, in any ordinary picture, to convey more than a very faint +idea of this building, in which the peculiar beauties are dependent upon +color, unlike the Gothic churches of the North: nothing but an oil painting +of minute details could render the effects produced by the bars of sunshine +descending through the twilight of the church and striking on the glowing, +pictured walls. The extent of surface covered by the mosaics is said to be +more than sixty thousand square feet. + +By the bounty of the same pious monarch who endowed the neighboring +monastery the cathedral was completed just seven hundred years ago. His +body lies entombed in the transept: his monument is the wonderful pile +whose construction has made his name to be remembered by succeeding ages +more than all his other deeds. + +Outside the cathedral, adjoining the monastery-wall, a commanding terrace +is built upon the verge of the precipice. Leaning from its edge, we gazed +almost vertically into the orange-groves below, where the ripe fruit glowed +with the brightness of a flame contrasted with the darkness of the foliage. +Far and wide were spread the fruit-gardens over the plain, to where the +mountains towered up in the east, and northward to the city and the sea. It +is one of those bright and satisfying scenes from which a traveller can +hardly turn away without a tinge of bitterness in the thought of never +seeing them again. + +The drive back to the town was pleasantly varied by a detour which brought +us to the Capuchin monastery and the Saracenic villa of La Ziza. The vaults +of the monastery are mentioned as one of the interesting sights, but it +must be a very ghoulish soul that would take pleasure in them. The horrors +of the more famous Capuchin vaults at Rome are tame in comparison with +these. There the ornaments are skulls and skeletons in a tolerable state of +cleanliness: here the departed brethren have been subjected to some +mummifying process, and as they lie piled in hideous confusion their +withered faces stare horribly in the twilight of the cellar. Numerous +fiery-eyed cats run about with much scratching and scrabbling over the dry +bodies, making the place none the pleasanter with their uncanny wails. A +very brief visit is sufficient. + +La Ziza, the only Saracenic house of this region which is still inhabited, +is simply a massive, battlemented tower of unmistakably Arabian appearance. +The outside walls are adorned with the depressed panels characteristic of +the Saracenic style, but within the Oriental look has almost vanished under +the repairs and decorations of many centuries. Only the lofty hallway, +arched above with a kind of honeycomb vaulting and cooled by a little +cascade of water rushing through it, retains much of the Oriental beauty, +and seems like a hall of the Alhambra. Along a wall of the vestibule runs +an inscription in Arabic which has been a puzzle to Orientalists, and of +which no undisputed interpretation is given. The palace was built as a +country pleasure-house by one of the Saracenic princes of Palermo, and can +be little less than a thousand years old; indeed, an inscription on its +walls, inscribed by one of the Spanish proprietors, claims for the house an +antiquity of eleven hundred years. + +From the battlements of La Ziza one has the loveliest near view of Palermo +and the plain of the Golden Shell. An enthusiastic verse, written over the +doorway of the palace, declares it to be the most beautiful scene upon our +planet, and while the eyes are resting on the view it is easy to believe +the poet; but many of the mountain-views about the city surpass it. + +One of the most attractive of the mountain-excursions from Palermo is that +to the monastery of San Martino. At a height of seventeen hundred feet +above the city, in a lonely spot, the monastery stands on another flank of +the mountain on which Monreale is also perched. The mule-path from the +suburban village of Boccadifalco to San Martino would be worth traversing +for its own wild beauty alone. It first enters a gorge between grand +cliffs: then, climbing a rocky ascent which commands a superb view of the +plain, it runs through a fruitful valley, where the monastery suddenly +appears in the front. + +[Illustration: Palermo.] + +The monastery of San Martino has been the wealthiest in Sicily. The +entrance-hall is on a scale of regal magnificence, adorned with +many-colored marbles. The brethren were all of noble extraction. Though the +external architecture of the building is not in the best taste, the grand +scale on which it is built, and still more the wild, picturesque site, give +to the monastery a beauty which even an Italian architect of the last +century could not disfigure. Ascending a grand staircase with balustrades +of purple marble, an upper hall is reached, from which the wonderful view +may be seen to the best advantage. Turning the eye to the north and east +across the savage-looking mountains, a short reach of the coast is seen, +and beyond is the boundless expanse of sea, dotted on the horizon by the +volcanoes of the AEolian Islands, which lie more than a hundred miles away. +The abbey abounds in pictures by masters of the seventeenth century, and +there is also a museum of Greek and Saracenic remains, but nothing within +the walls compares with the interest of the window-views. + +Attractive as are the sights of Palermo, most of them must be passed over +or very hastily visited if the tour of the island is to be made in a month, +for the Greek cities beyond demand a greater share of time by reason of +their immense antiquity and the grandeur of their remains. + +Being well prepared for the inland journey, and eager to see antiquities so +little known to the outer world, one question arose to give us pause--a +question which every year keeps thousands of prudent tourists from +exploring a country as full of glorious scenery as Switzerland, possessing +more of Greek antiquities than Greece itself, and a far lovelier winter +climate than Italy--"Is it safe?" The doubtful question whether this +rarely-attempted journey should be accomplished was settled by the friendly +advice of the courteous consul of the United States at Palermo. That advice +may be of use to travellers in the future: it was to the effect that for +two American gentlemen travelling alone and without ostentation through +Sicily there is no more danger of capture or violent death than in any +civilized country. It is admitted that highway robbery is not impossible, +as in many places nearer home, but the simple preventive is to carry as +little ready money as possible over the short spaces of unsettled country, +and to forward superfluous baggage by steamer. That there are banditti in +certain districts of the island no one denies, but their object is the +capture of wealthy Sicilians, whose ransom is sure and ample, while that of +a foreigner is uncertain and necessarily long delayed. + +A dark afternoon found us comfortably established in the best seats of an +old-fashioned stage-coach in front of the general post-office of Palermo, +whence the stage-lines radiate to the various parts of the island. After +the long deliberation which seems to characterize all business (especially +official business) transacted outside of England and America, the mail-bags +were delivered, and our journey began in the midst of a shower descending +with all the tremendous impetuosity of a semi-tropical rainy season. The +cumbersome vehicle dashed on with considerable spirit through streets +almost emptied by the violence of the shower, and out through the broad +arch of the stately Porta Nuova crowded by multitudes seeking shelter from +the storm. Late twilight found us at the end of the first stage in +Monreale. From thence onward the journey continued for a while through +pitchy darkness. The broad highway is engineered with admirable skill along +the sides of mountains and over deep ravines, through a region of most +uncommon beauty, it is said, but now hidden from us by the impenetrable +gloom. However, as the night advanced the clouds rolled away with +surprising suddenness, and left a bright moon rising over the mountains. We +began to see something of the beautifully varied country, though viewing +it at a disadvantage through the narrow window of a covered coach. Wherever +the rugged nature of the country permitted every rood of ground was under +exquisite cultivation, and already had its first soft covering of springing +vegetation. The night-air was sweet with the spring-like odors of +freshly-turned earth and of wild-flowers: from time to time white masses of +flower-laden almond trees flashed past the window, looking in the moonlight +wonderfully like the snow-drifts which at this season line the roads in New +England. + +[Illustration: CONVENT OF SAN MARINO, NEAR PALERMO.] + +After nightfall the surface of the rich and well-cultivated country seemed +as solitary as a wilderness: not a creature was stirring along the road. +The intense silence of the night was broken only by the hum of our +coach-wheels and the sharp snap of hoofs from our cavalry guard. How unlike +were all the surroundings to those of an ordinary modern night-journey over +the mail-routes of Europe! The primitive conveyance, the quiet of the +lonely road, the arms of the attendant troop of horsemen flashing in the +light of the moon,--all the concomitants of an old-time night-journey +seemed to carry us back from the age of railroads to an earlier time. + +Eleven drowsy hours of staging, and then a long, slow ascent, brought us up +to the hilltop where stands the village of Calatafimi. The chief inn of the +town is probably not surpassed in Europe in the number of its small +discomforts, animate and inanimate, but it must be made the base of +operations for visiting the ruins of Segesta. The remnant of the night +spent in sleep prepared us for our investigations on the following day. It +was pleasant, rising in the cool early morning, to step out from the +comfortless interior of the tavern to enjoy on a southern balcony the +temperate warmth of the low sun and to look down on the lovely landscape. +Before us lay a fertile rolling country clad with verdure, and rising +gradually upward toward the south to an elevation deserving to be called a +mountain from its great height, yet from its gentle slope and cultivated +sides rather to be called a hill. A field near the crest of that distant +hill, marked only by a few white crosses, is a spot memorable in Sicilian +history, for there lie the heroes who fell fighting with Garibaldi for the +unity of Italy on May 15, 1860. Sicily has in all ages been a battle-ground +for the contending races of two continents: on Sicilian soil Athens +received her most disabling blow, and here too the Punic power was broken; +yet there is hardly one among the battlefields of Sicily upon which greater +destinies have been settled than on this field of Calatafimi. + +Before the morning was far advanced we started out in search of the village +cure, the unfailing friend of strangers, that we might inquire of him about +the safety of visiting the ruin and in regard to the pleasantest way of +reaching it. Picking our way about through the mud of the squalid village, +we at length found the old gentleman just coming from his little church on +the side of the castle hill at the end of the town. Filled with unfeigned +delight that the monotony of his existence should be broken by the advent +of two foreigners, especially such living wonders as Americans, the benign +priest took a lively interest in our case, gave us the information for +which we had asked, vouching for the safety of the country, and begged us +to walk on with him. For five minutes we followed on together the road cut +in the hillside beneath the walls of the Saracenic citadel, our companion +all the while talking vehemently, and helping out our lame knowledge of the +language with gestures so dramatic that an understanding of his words was +hardly needed. Suddenly the road curved round the side of the hill; we +stood on the floor of a deserted quarry; the old man ceased speaking and +pointed forward: "_Ecco!_" Before us the hill dropped abruptly down in a +precipice: far below a deep valley spread out before our eyes, "fair as the +garden of the Lord." As the light of the morning sun streamed down through +its length, bringing out in great brilliancy the fresh green of spring, it +looked like a paradise of luxuriant vegetation. The gray of olive trees and +the darkness of orange-groves contrasted with the color of springing +plants, and everywhere were scattered the pink-and-white plumes of the +blossoming almonds. Beyond the valley a rugged, saddle-shaped mountain +rose to an imposing height, and upon the summit line stood in solitary +majesty the Doric temple of Segesta, each column in clear relief against +the blue of the sky. It is so far removed from all abodes of men, standing +alone for thousands of years in the region of the clouds--so grand in its +severe and noble outlines--so venerable in its mysterious antiquity--so +blended with the natural beauties of the place,--that it seems rather to +belong to the power that raised the mountains than to any workmanship of +man. The world cannot show a more wonderful example of art exquisitely +harmonized with the grandeur of natural scenery. + +Eager for a closer view of the temple, we returned immediately to the town, +and, being provided with a guide and a beast, were soon on the way down the +winding road to the valley. A bridle-path diverged from the main road: an +avenue of over-arching olive trees shaded the way, and on all sides here, +as everywhere through the country, the orange-crop loaded the trees almost +to breaking--the most beautiful of all crops as the fruit hangs upon the +branches. As we passed the lower slopes dotted with browsing sheep, and +began the rugged ascent of the mountain on which the temple stands, the +pathway crept up the edge of a profound gorge: it was a perilous way, +clinging close to the edge of the bank, and at some points, where we could +look down a thousand feet to the torrent below, the path was so narrow and +broken that even our sure-footed mountain-donkeys hesitated to advance. The +picturesque but hard climb at length came to an end at the edge of the +broad, flattened summit of the mountain. Again the temple suddenly came in +sight, but now near at hand. The mountain-shepherds have planted with wheat +the level of the summit, and the pale yellow of the volcanic rock from +which the temple is built harmonizes well with the color of its +surroundings. It cannot be called a ruin. It stands as the builders left it +in the fifth century before Christ. Not a column is broken, not a stone has +fallen. The interior was never finished, but the outside is perfect. + +The pure outlines of a Doric temple are beautiful in any situation, but the +impression which this one made upon us in the bright morning sunlight, +standing in the midst of verdure and flowers on the brink of that +stupendous chasm and overlooking that glorious country, is not a thing to +be conveyed in words. + +The interest of the temple is comprised in its size, antiquity and beauty, +for no mention of it is made in history. Its approximate age is inferred +from the internal evidence of the structure. The subjection of the city of +Segesta from B. C. 409 to the powers of Carthage and Rome successively, and +the subsequent decline of its own power and wealth, render it certain that +no such work as this temple would have been undertaken after that date: +moreover, the purity of its simple Doric form places it in the earlier ages +of Sicilian history. The Carthaginian invasion of the island was doubtless +the event which arrested the building. Cicero has described a wonderful +statue of Diana in bronze which the people of Segesta showed him with pride +as the greatest ornament of their city: it was of colossal size and +faultless beauty, belonging to the best period of Greek art. As the statue +was in existence before the Carthaginian invasion, it seems to me highly +improbable that the citizens of Segesta would have built so grand a temple +for any other purpose than to enshrine their most admired and revered +statue and to make it a place of worship for Diana. This theory may explain +in part the reason why the building was arrested, for it is known that the +image was stolen to adorn the city of Carthage,[A] and its loss, as well as +the subsequent poverty of Segesta, would have been a sufficient reason for +ceasing to build a temple to contain it. Diana's worshippers of old must +have looked upon these lovely mountain-ranges as an abode dear to the queen +of the nymphs and the hunter's patron deity. It seems as if nothing less +than the presence of the mountain-goddess lingering round her shrine could +have kept the temple in its marvellous perfection through the lapse of +ages in a land of wars and earthquakes. The houses of the neighboring city +are indistinguishably levelled with the earth, but hardly a stone of the +sacred building is displaced. + +The position of the temple was outside and below the limits of the ancient +city. The mountain-ridge rises near at hand to a somewhat greater height, +and terminates in a peak, on the summit and sides of which the town was +built. Warned by the decline of the sun, we turned from the Segestan house +of worship and began to climb the slope toward the Segestan place of +amusement: the Greek theatre still remains with little loss or change. The +ascent was interrupted by many lingering backward looks toward the grand +colonnade as it appeared at fresh points of view from above. Hardly a +living creature appeared on the lonely heights, except that one wandering +shepherd, seeing the dress of foreigners, came forward to offer his little +stock of coins ploughed from the earth or found in ancient buildings. As +usual, most of the pocketful were corroded beyond recognition, but one +piece bore a noble head executed in the Greek style, and the clear +inscription, [Greek: PANORMITAN], a coin of Panormus; which is, in modern +speech, Palermo. A few coppers were accepted as an ample equivalent for a +coin which will not circulate. + +The scattered fragments of a fortress crown the peak; and immediately +below, cut in the solid rock of the western slope, lies the theatre. It is +not large as compared with buildings of its class at Athens and Syracuse, +yet I believe that in its seating capacity it exceeds any opera-house of +our time. Entering by a ruined stage-door and crossing the orchestra, we +rested on the lower tiers of seats. The great arc, comprising two-thirds of +a circle, upon which the spectators were ranged, has still its covering of +fine cut-stone seats, complete except at one extremity. Every part of the +desolate building gains a new interest when peopled in imagination with its +ancient occupants, and when we recall to mind the vast multitudes of many +generations who have watched with breathless and solemn interest the +stately progress of Greek tragedy before that ruined _scena_. + +As we lounged upon the lowest seats, whereon the high dignitaries of the +town used to sit, and looked across the open space of the orchestra, there +at the centre of its farther side lay the slab which supported the altar of +Bacchus, where stood the chorus-leader: near it a line of stone marks the +front of the stage, and beyond it is spread an expanse of stage-scenery +such as no modern royal theatre can boast. The whole broad prospect +commanded from the colonnade below is seen across the stage of the theatre, +but widened by the greater height and finished in the foreground by the +majestic presence of the temple. All the north-western mountains of the +island are taken in with one glance of the eye: beneath us the valley of +the little river Scamander opens a long vista northward to the +Mediterranean Sea, and far away the port of Castellamare glitters, in +contrast with the blue, as white as a polished shell upon the shore. Most +distant among the group of peaks is Mount Eryx, the lonely rock by the sea +on whose summit stood the temple of Venus Erycina, more renowned in the +ancient world than all other shrines of the goddess. + +We climbed to the brow of the hill in order to descend through the entire +length of the city. Hardly one stone is left upon another of all the +streets through which the Segestans proudly conducted Cicero. Here and +there appear the circular openings of cisterns which occupied the centres +of ancient courtyards. The stones once hewn and carved which are strewn +over the slope are now reduced to the roughness of boulders, so that one +might cross the tract and catch no sign that it was once a city. Little has +been done to discover what remains lie beneath the surface, but at one +point, where a small excavation has been made, a heap of fallen Ionic +columns cover the fragments of a tomb built on a scale of regal +magnificence; and a little lower on the mountain two rooms of a house have +been exhumed, the floors of which are still covered with beautiful mosaics. + +ALFRED T. BACON. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] The statue was restored to Segesta by Scipio. + + + + +"FOR PERCIVAL." + + +CHAPTER IX. + +SISSY LOOKS INTO THE MIRROR. + +[Illustration] + +A lady's hero generally has ample leisure. He may write novels or poems, or +paint the picture or carve the statue of the season, or he is a statesman +and rules the destinies of nations, or he makes money mysteriously in the +city, or even, it may be, not less mysteriously on the turf; but he does it +in his odd minutes. That is his characteristic. Perhaps he spends his +morning in stupendous efforts to gratify a wish expressed in smiling +hopelessness by the heroine; later, he calls on her or he rides with her; +evening comes, he dances with her till the first gray streak of dawn has +touched the eastern sky. He goes home. His pen flies along the paper--he is +knee-deep in manuscript; he is possessed with burning enthusiasm and +energy; her features grow in idealized loveliness beneath his chisel, or +the sunny tide of daylight pours in to irradiate the finished picture as +well as the exhausted artist with a golden glory. He has a talent for +sitting up. He gets up very early indeed if he is in the country, but he +never goes to bed early, or when would he achieve his triumphs? Some +things, it is true, must be done by day, but half an hour will work +wonders. The gigantic intellect is brought to bear on the confidential +clerk: the latter is, as it were, wound up, and the great machine goes on. +Or a hasty telegram arrives as the guests file in to dinner. "Pardon me, +one moment;" and instantly something is sent off in cipher which shall +change the face of Europe. Unmoved, the hero returns to the love-making +which is the true business of life. + +There are poetry and romance enough in many an outwardly prosaic life. How +often have we been told this! Nay, we have read stories in which the hero +possesses a season-ticket, and starts from his trim suburban home after an +early breakfast, to return in due time to dine, perhaps to talk a little +"shop" over the meal, and, it may be, even to feel somewhat sleepy in the +evening. But, as far as my experience goes, the day on which the story +opens is the last on which he does all this. That morning he meets the +woman with the haunting eyes or the old friend who died long ago--did not +the papers say so?--and whose resurrection includes a secret or two. Or he +is sent for to some out-of-the-way spot in the country where there is a +mysterious business of some kind to be unravelled. At any rate, he needs +his season-ticket never again, but changes more or less into the hero we +all know. + +It is hard work for these unresting men, no doubt, yet what is to be done? +Unless the double-shift system can in any way be applied for their relief, +I fear they must continue to toil by night that they may appear to be idle +men. + +And, after all, were the hero not altogether heroic, one is tempted to +doubt if this abundant leisure is quite a gain. + +Addie Blake, planning some bright little scheme which needed a whole day +and an unoccupied squire, said once to Godfrey Hammond, "You can't think +what a comfort it is to get some one who hasn't to go to business every +day. I hate the very name of business! Now, you are always at hand when you +are wanted." + +"Yes," he said, "we idle men have a great advantage over the busy ones, no +doubt; but I think it almost more than counterbalanced by our terrible +disadvantage." + +"What is that?" + +"We are at hand when we are not wanted," said Godfrey seriously. + +And I think he was right. One may have a great liking--nay, something +warmer than liking--for one's companions in endless idle _tete-a-tetes_, +but they are perilous nevertheless. Some day the pale ghost--weariness, +_ennui_, dearth of ideas, I hardly know what its true name is--comes into +the room to see if the atmosphere will suit it, and sits down between you. +You cannot see the colorless spectre, but are conscious of a slight +exhaustion in the air. Everything requires a little effort--to breathe, to +question, to answer, to look up, to appear interested. You feel that it is +your own fault, perhaps: you would gladly take all the blame if you could +only take all the burden. Perhaps the failing _is_ yours, but it is your +fault only as it is the fault of an electric eel that after many shocks his +power is weakened and he wants to be left alone to recover it. + +Still, though there may be no fault, it is a terrible thing to feel one's +heart sink suddenly when one's friend pauses for a moment in the doorway as +if about to return. One thinks, If weariness cannot be kept at bay in the +society of those we love, where can we be safe from the cold and subtle +blight? As soon as we are conscious of it, it seems to become part of us, +and we shrink from the popular idea of the Hereafter, assured of finding +our spectre even in the courts of heaven. + +Godfrey Hammond expressed the fear of too much companionship in speech, +Percival Thorne in action. He was given to lonely walks if the weather were +fine--to shutting himself in his own room with a book if it were wet. He +would dream for hours, for I will frankly confess that when he was shut up +with a book, his book as often as not was in that condition too. + +His grandfather had complained more than once, "You don't often come to +Brackenhill, Percival, except to solve the problem of how little you can +see of us in a given time." He did not suspect it, but much of the strong +attraction which drew him to his grandson lay in that very fact. The latter +confronted him in grave independence, just touched with the courteous +deference due from youth to age, but nothing more. Mr. Thorne would have +thanked Heaven had the boy been a bit of a spendthrift, but Percival was +too wary for that. He did not refuse his grandfather's gifts, but he never +seemed in want of them. They might help him to pleasant superfluities, but +his attitude said plainly enough, "I have sufficient for my needs." He was +not to be bought: the very aimlessness of his life secured him from that. +You cannot earn a man's gratitude by helping him onward in his course when +he is drifting contentedly round and round. He was not to be bullied, being +conscious of his impregnable position. He was not to be flattered in any +ordinary way. It was so evident to him that the life he had chosen must +appear an unwise choice to the majority of his fellow-men that he accepted +any assurance to the contrary as the verdict of a small minority. Nor was +he conscious of any especial power or originality, so that he could be +pleased by being told that he had broken conventional trammels and was a +great soul. Mr. Thorne did not know how to conquer him, and could not have +enough of him. + +It is needful to note how the day after the agricultural show was spent at +Brackenhill. + +Godfrey Hammond left by an early train. Mrs. Middleton came down to see +about his breakfast with a splitting headache. The poor old lady's +suffering was evident, and Sissy's suggestion that it was due to their +having walked about so much in the broiling sun the day before was +unanimously accepted. Mrs. Middleton countenanced the theory, though she +privately attributed it to a sleepless night which had followed a +conversation with Hammond about Horace. + +Percival vanished immediately after breakfast. As soon as he had +ascertained that there were no especial plans for the day, he slipped +quietly away with his hands in his pockets, strolled through the park, +whistling dreamily as he went, and passing out into the road, crossed it +and made straight for the river. He lay on the grass for half an hour or +so, studying the growth of willows and the habits of dragon-flies, and +then sauntered along the bank. Had he gone to the left it would have led +him past Langley Wood to Fordborough. He went to the right. + +It was a gentle little river, which had plenty of time to spare, and amused +itself with wandering here and there, tracing a bright maze of curves and +unexpected turns. At times it would linger in shady pools, where, half +asleep, it seemed to hesitate whether it cared to go on to the county-town +at all that day. But Percival defied it to have more leisure than he had, +and followed the silvery clue till all at once he found himself face to +face with an artist who sat by the river-side sketching. + +The young man looked up with a half smile as Percival came suddenly upon +him from behind a clump of alders. A remark of some kind, were it but +concerning the weather, was inevitable. It was made, and was followed by +others. Young Thorne looked, admired and questioned, and they drifted into +an aimless talk about the art which the painter loved. Even to an outsider, +such as Percival, it was full of color and grace and a charm half +understood, vaguely suggestive of a world of beauty--not far off and +inaccessible, but underlying the common, every-day world of which we are at +times a little weary. It was as if one should tell us of virtue new and +strange in the often-turned earth of our garden-plot. Percival was rather +apt to analyze his pains and pleasures, but his ideal was enjoyment which +should defy analysis, and he found something of it that morning in the +summer weather and his new friend's talk. + +It was past noon. The young artist looked at his watch and ascertained the +fact. "Do you live near here?" he asked. + +Percival shook his head: "I live anywhere. I am a wanderer on the face of +the earth. But my grandfather lives in that gray house over yonder, and I +am free to come and go as I choose. I am staying there now." + +"Brackenhill, do you mean? That fine old house on the side of the hill? I +am lodging at the farm down there, and the farmer--" + +"John Collins," said Percival. + +"Entertains me every night with stories of its magnificence. Since we have +smoked our pipes together I have learnt that Brackenhill is the eighth +wonder of the world." + +"Not quite," said Thorne. "But it is a good old manor-house, and, thank +Heaven, my ancestors for a good many generations wasted their money, and +had none to spare for restoring and beautifying. I don't mean my +grandfather: he wouldn't hurt it. It's a quaint old place. Come some +afternoon and look at it. He shall show you his pictures." + +"Thanks," the other said, but he hesitated and looked at his unfinished +work. "I should like, but I don't quite know. The fact is, when I have done +for to-day I'm to have old Collins's gig and drive into Fordborough to see +if there are any letters for me. I am not sure I shall not have to leave +the first thing to-morrow." + +"And I have made you waste your time this morning." + +"Don't mention it," said the young artist with the brightest smile. "I'm +not much given to bemoaning past troubles, and I shall be in a very bad way +indeed before I begin to find fault with past pleasures. I may not find my +letter after all, and in that case I should like very much to look you up. +To-morrow?" + +"Pray do." The tone was unmistakably cordial. + +"Your grandfather's name is Thorne, isn't it? Shall I ask for young Mr. +Thorne?" + +"Percival Thorne," was the quick correction: "I have a cousin." + +They shook hands, but as Thorne turned away the other called after him: "I +say! is there any name to that little wood out there, looking like a dark +cloud on the green?" + +"Yes--Langley Wood." Percival nodded a second farewell, and went on his way +pondering. And this was the subject of his thoughts: "Then, my brother, I +have to go through Langley Wood to-morrow evening, and I am afraid to go +alone." + +Of course he had not forgotten his promise to Addie, but having made his +arrangements and worked it all out in his own mind, he had dismissed it +from his thoughts. Now, however, it rose up before him as a slightly +disagreeable puzzle. + +What on earth did Addie want toward nine at night in Langley Wood? The day +before, in haste to answer her request and anxiety not to betray her, he +had not considered whether the service he had promised to render were +pleasant to him or not. In very truth, he was willing to serve Addie, and +he had professed his willingness the more eagerly that he had expected a +harder task. She asked so slight a thing that only eager readiness could +give the service any grace at all. + +But when he came to consider it he half wished that his task had been +harder if it might have been different. He liked Addie, he was ready to +serve her, but he foresaw possible annoyances to them both from her hasty +request. He had no confidence in her prudence. + +"Some silly freak of hers," he thought while he walked along, catching at +the tops of the tall flowering weeds as he went. "Some silly girlish freak. +Why didn't she ask Horace? Wouldn't run any risk of getting him into +trouble, I suppose." + +Did Horace know? he wondered. "I'm not going to be made use of by him and +her: they needn't think it!" vowed Percival in sudden anger. But next +moment he smiled at his own folly: "When I have given my word, and must go +if fifty Horaces had planned it! I had better save my resolutions for next +time." He did not think, however, that Horace _did_ know. "Which makes it +all the worse," he reflected. "A charming complication it will be if I get +into trouble with him about Addie. Suppose some one sees us? Suppose Mrs. +Blake is down upon me, questioning, and I, pledged to secrecy, haven't a +word to say for myself? Suppose Lottie--Oh, I say, a delightful arrangement +this is and no mistake!" + +He could only hope that no one would see them, and that Addie's mystery +would prove a harmless one. + +He got in just as they were sitting down to luncheon. Horace and Sissy had +spent the morning in archery and idleness, Mrs. Middleton in nursing her +headache. Mr. Thorne was not there. + +"Been enjoying a little solitude?" Horace inquired. + +"Not much of that," was the answer. "A good deal of talk instead." + +"What! did you find a friend out in the fields?" + +"Yes," said Percival, "a young artist." As he spoke he remembered that he +was ignorant of his new friend's name. At least he knew it was "Alf," owing +to some story the painter had told: "I heard my brother calling 'Alf! Alf!' +so I," etc. Alf--probably therefore Alfred--surname unknown. + +They were halfway through their meal when Mr. Thorne came noiselessly in +and took his accustomed place. He was very silent, and had a curiously +intent expression. Horace, who was telling Sissy some trifling story about +himself (Horace's little stories generally were about himself), finished it +lamely in a lowered voice. Mr. Thorne smiled. + +There was a silence. Percival went steadily on with his luncheon, but +Horace pushed away his plate and sipped his sherry. The birds were +twittering outside in the sunshine, but there was no other sound. It was +like a breathless little pause of expectation. + +At last Mr. Thorne spoke, in such sweetly courteous tones that they all +knew he meant mischief. "Are you particularly engaged this afternoon?" he +inquired of Horace. + +"Not at all engaged," said the young man. His heart gave a great throb. + +"Then perhaps you could give me a few minutes in the library?" + +"I shall be most--" Horace began. But he checked himself and said, +"Certainly. When shall I come?" + +"As soon as you have finished your luncheon, if that will suit you?" + +"I have finished." He drank off his wine, and, without looking at the +others, walked defiantly to the door, stood aside for his grandfather to +pass, and followed him out. + +Mrs. Middleton and Sissy exchanged glances. "Oh, my dear!" the old lady +exclaimed. "Oh, I'm so frightened! I am afraid poor Horace is in trouble. +Godfrey Hammond was saying only last night--" + +She paused suddenly, looking at Percival. He sat with his back to the +window, and the dark face was very dark in the shadow. It was just as well +perhaps, for he was thinking "Told you so!" a train of thought which seldom +produces an agreeable expression. + +"What did Godfrey Hammond say?" Sissy asked. But nothing was to be got out +of Aunt Middleton, so they adjourned to the drawing-room to wait for +Horace's return. Percival read the paper; Mrs. Middleton lay on the sofa; +Sissy flitted to and fro, now taking up a book, now her work, then at the +piano, playing idly with one hand or singing snatches of her favorite +songs. There was a mirror in which, looking sideways, she could see herself +reflected as she played and Percival as he read--as much of him, at least, +as was not swallowed up in the _Times_. There is something ghostly about a +little picture like this reflected in a glass. It is so silent and yet so +real: the people stir, look up, their lips move, they have every sign of +life, but there is no sound. There are noises in the room behind you, but +the people in the mirror make none. The _Times_ may be rustling and +crackling elsewhere, but Percival's ghost turns a ghostly paper whence no +sound proceeds. Sissy is playing a little tinkling treble tune, but at the +piano yonder slim white fingers are silently wandering over the ivory keys, +and the girl's eyes look strangely out from the polished surface. + +Sissy gazed and mused. Perhaps some day Percival will reign at Brackenhill. +And who will sit at that piano where the ghost-girl sits now, and what +soundless melodies will be played in that silent room? + +Sissy's left hand steals down to the bass, striking solemn chords. "If one +could but look into the glass," she thinks, "and see the future there, as +people do in stories! What eyes would look out at me instead of mine? Ah, +well! If I could but see Percival there I would try to be content, even if +the girl turned away her face. I _would_ be content. I would! I would!" + +She turns resolutely away from the mirror, and begins that old royalist +song in which yearning for the vanished past and mourning for the dreary +present cannot triumph over the hope of far-off brightness--"When the king +enjoys his own again." To Mrs. Middleton, to Percival, a mere song--to +Sissy a solemn renunciation of all but the one hope. Let her king enjoy his +own, and the rest be as Fate wills. + +The last note dies away. Moved by a sudden impulse, she lifts her eyes to +the ghost Percival. He has lowered his paper a little, and is looking at +her with a wondering smile. A voice behind her exclaims, "Why, Sissy!" She +darts across the room to the speaker and pushes the _Times_ away +altogether. "Percival," she says in a low, breathless voice, "does Miss +Lisle play?" + +"Miss Lisle!" He is surprised. "Oh yes, she plays. But not as well as her +brother, I believe." + +"And does she sing?" + +"Yes. I heard her once. But no better than you sang just now. What has come +to you, Sissy? You have found the one thing that was wanting." + +"What was that?" + +"Earnestness, depth. You sang it as if your soul and the soul of the song +were one. Now I can tell you that I fancied you only skimmed over the +surface of things--like a bird over the sea. I can tell you now, since I +was wrong." + +Her cheeks are glowing. "And Miss Lisle?" she says. + +"What, now, about Miss Lisle?" He is amused and perplexed at Sissy's +persistence. + +"She is one of your heroic women;" and Miss Langton nods her pretty head. +"Oh, I know! Jael and _Judith_ and Charlotte Corday." + +"I don't think I said anything about Judith: surely _you_ suggested her. +And, to tell you the truth, Sissy, I looked in the Apocrypha, and I +thought I liked I her the least of the trio. It wasn't a swift impulse like +Jael's, who suddenly saw the tyrant given into her hands, and it wanted the +grace of Charlotte Corday's utter self-sacrifice and quick death. Judith +had great honor, and lived to be over a hundred, didn't she? I wonder if +she often talked about Holofernes when she was eighty or ninety, and about +her triumph--how she was crowned with a garland and led the dance? She ran +an awful risk, no doubt, but she was in awful peril: it was glory or death. +Charlotte Corday had no chance of a triumph: she must have known that +success, as well as failure, meant the death-cart and the guillotine. +Judith seems to have played her part fairly well to the end, I allow, but +don't you think the praises and the after-life spoil it rather?" + +Sissy, passing lightly over Percival's views about Charlotte Corday and the +widow of a hundred and five who was mourned by all Israel, pounced on a +more interesting avowal: "So you looked Judith out and studied her? Oh, +Percival!" + +"My dear Sissy, shall I tell you how many times I have seen Miss Lisle?" He +was answering her arch glance rather than her spoken question. "How few +times, I should say. Twice." + +"I've made up _my_ mind about people when I've only seen them once," said +Sissy, apparently addressing the carpet. + +"Very likely: some people have that power," said Percival. "Besides, seeing +them once may mean that you had a good long interview under favorable +circumstances. Now," with a smile, "shall I tell you all that Miss Lisle +and I said to each other in our two meetings?" He paused, encountering +Sissy's eyes, brilliantly and wickedly full of meaning. + +"What! do you remember every word? Oh, Percival!" + +"Hush!" said Mrs. Middleton, lifting her head from the cushion: "listen! +isn't that Horace?" + +"I think so;" and Percival stooped for the _Times_, which had fallen on the +floor. Sissy stood with her hand on his chair, making no attempt to conceal +her anxiety. The old lady noted her parted lips and eager eyes. "Ah! she +does care for Horace. I knew it! I knew it!" she thought. + +He came in, looking white and angry: his mouth was sternly set, and there +was a fierce spark in his gray eyes. Mrs. Middleton beckoned him to her +sofa, and would have drawn the proud head down to her with a tender whisper +of "Tell me, my dear." But the young fellow straightened himself and faced +them all as he stood by her side. She clasped and fondled his passive hand. +"What is the matter, Horace?" she said at last. + +"As it happens, there is nothing much the matter," he replied, + +"You look as if a good deal might be the matter," said Sissy. + +He made no answer for the moment. Then he looked at her with a curious sort +of smile: "Sissy, when we were little--when you were very little indeed--do +you remember old Rover?" + +"That curly dog? Oh yes." + +"I used to have him in a string sometimes, and take him out: it was great +fun," said Horace pensively. "I liked to feel him all alive, scampering and +tugging at the end of the string. It was best of all, I think, to give him +an unexpected jerk just when he was going to sniff at something, and take +him pretty well off his legs: he was so astonished and disappointed. But it +was very grand too, if he would but make up his mind he wanted to go one +way, to pull at him and _make_ him go just the opposite. He was obstinate, +was old Rover, but that was the fun of it. I was obstinate too, and the +stronger. How long has he been dead?" + +"I'm sure I don't know--twelve or thirteen years. Why?" + +"Is it as long as that? Well, I dare say it is. It has occurred to me +to-day for the first time that perhaps it was rather hard on Rover now and +then.--Aunt Harriet, why did you let me have the poor old fellow and +ill-use him?" + +"My dear boy, what _do_ you mean? I don't think you were ever cruel--not +really cruel, you know. Children always will be heedless, but I think +Rover was fond of you." + +"I doubt it," said Horace. + +"But what do you mean?" The old lady was fairly perplexed. "What makes you +think of having poor old Rover in a string to-day? I don't understand." + +"Which things are an allegory." Horace looked more kindly down at the +suffering face, and attempted to smile. "It was very nice then, but to-day +I'm the dog." + +"String pulled tight?" said Percival. + +"Jerked." He disengaged his hand. "I think I'll go and have a cigar in the +park." Percival was going to rise, but Horace as he passed pressed his +fingers on his shoulder: "No, old fellow! not to-day--many thanks. You +lecture me, you know, and generally I don't care a rap, so you are quite +welcome. But to-day I'm a little sore, rubbed up the wrong way: I might +take it seriously. Another time." + +And he departed, leaving his lecturer to reflect on this brilliant result +of all his outpourings of wisdom. + + +CHAPTER X. + +IN LANGLEY WOOD. + +At Brackenhill they invariably dined at six o'clock, nor was the meal a +lengthy one. Mr. Thorne drank little wine, and Horace was generally only +too happy to escape to the drawing-room at the earliest opportunity. +Percival could very well dine at home and yet be true to his rendezvous in +Langley Wood. + +As the time drew near he became thoughtful and, to tell the truth, a little +out of temper. He liked his dinner, and Addie Blake interfered with his +quiet enjoyment of it. He would have chosen to lie on the sofa in the cool, +quaint, rose-scented drawing-room, and get Sissy to sing to him. Instead of +which he must tramp three miles along a dusty white road that July evening +to meet a girl he didn't particularly want to see, and to hear a secret +which he didn't much want to know, and which he distinctly didn't want to +be bound to keep. Decidedly a bore! + +It was only twenty minutes past seven when they joined the ladies. Sissy +represented the latter force, Aunt Middleton having gone to lie down in the +hope of being better later in the evening. Mr. Thorne fidgeted about the +room for a minute, and then went off to the library, whereupon Horace +stretched himself with a sigh of relief. "Come out, Sissy, and have a turn +in the garden." + +"But, Percival," she hesitated, "what are you going to do?" + +"Don't think about me: I must go out for a little while." He left them on +the terrace and started on his mysterious errand. As he let himself out +into the road by a little side-gate of which he had pocketed the key, it +was five-and-twenty minutes to eight. He had abundance of time. It was not +three miles to the white gate into Langley Wood, a little more than three +miles to the milestone beyond which he was on no account to go, and he had +almost an hour to do it in. Nevertheless, he started on his walk like a man +in haste. + +The great Fordborough agricultural show lasted two days, and on the second +the price of admission was considerably reduced. It had occurred to +Percival that the roads in every direction would probably be crowded with +people making their way home--people who would have had more beer than was +good for them. Addie would never think of such a possibility. It was true +that the road from Fordborough which led past Brackenhill would be quieter +than any other, but still young Thorne was seriously uneasy as he strode +along. It was also true that he met hardly any one as he went, but even +that failed to reassure him. "A little too early for them to have come so +far, I suppose," was his comment to himself: "at any rate, she shall not +wait for me." + +He passed the white gate, having encountered only a few stragglers, but +before he reached the milestone he saw Addie Blake coming along the road to +meet him. + +She was flushed, eager, excited, and looked even handsomer than usual. +Percival would never fall in love with Addie. That was very certain, but +the certainty did not prevent a quick thrill of admiration which tingled +through his blood as she advanced in her ripe dark beauty to meet him. By +it, as by a charm, the service which had been almost a weariness was +transmuted to a happy privilege, and the half-reluctant squire became +willing and devoted. + +"You are more than punctual," was his greeting. + +She smiled as she held out her hand: "I may say the same of you." + +"I was anxious," he confessed. "The roads are not likely to be very quiet +to-day. And after sunset--" + +"Yes," said Addie. "No doubt it seems strange to you that I should choose +this day and this time--" + +"I hardly know what I should have done if I had seen nothing of you when I +reached the milestone," he went on, interrupting her. His curiosity was +awakened now that he was so close to Addie's little mystery, but he was +anxious that she should not feel bound to tell him anything she would +rather keep to herself--very anxious that she should understand that he +would not pry into her secrets. + +"If you had gone much farther you would have missed me," she said. + +"Which way did you come?" + +"I did not come straight from home. Do you see that little red house? I am +drinking tea there, and spending a quiet evening." + +"How very pleasant!" said Percival. "And who has the privilege of +entertaining you?" + +"Mrs. Wardlaw. She is the widow of an officer--quite young. She is a friend +of mine: she lives with an invalid aunt, an old Mrs. Watson." + +"And what does Mrs. Wardlaw think of your taking a little stroll by +yourself in the evening?" + +"Mrs. Wardlaw asked me there on purpose. Yesterday I saw her at the show, +and gave her a little note as we shook hands. This morning came an +invitation to me to go and drink tea there. I told mamma and Lottie I +should go--papa is out--so one of the servants walked there with me at +half-past six, and will call for me again at ten or a little after." + +"Very ingeniously managed," said Percival. "And the invalid aunt?" + +"Went up to her room and left Mary and me to our devices," smiled Addie. "A +delightful old lady. Ah, here is the wood." + +"We shall probably have this part of our walk to ourselves," Percival +remarked as he swung the gate open. "People going home from the show are +not likely to stop to take a turn in Langley Wood." + +The sound of a rattling cart and shouts of discordant laughter, mixed with +what was intended for a song, came along the road they had just quitted. +Addie took a few hurried steps along the path, which curved enough to hide +her from observation in a moment. Safe behind a screen of leaves, she +paused: "What horrible people! Is that a sample of what I may expect as I +go back?" + +"I fear so," said Percival. "I shall see you safe to Mrs. Wardlaw's door." + +"You shall see me safe if you have good eyes," she answered. "But you will +not go to the door with me." + +"Ah!" he said. "Mrs. Wardlaw is only half trusted?" + +Addie smiled: "What people don't know they can't let out, can they?" + +"Pray understand that you are quite at liberty to apply that very +wise--mark me, that very wise--discovery of yours to my case," said Thorne, +looking straight at her. "You talked about good eyes just now. Mine are +good or bad as it suits me." At any rate, they were earnest as they met +hers. + +"Don't shut them on my account," said Addie. "No, Percival: you are not +like Mrs. Wardlaw. I mean to tell you all about it." + +But for a moment she did not speak. They were fairly in the wood; the trees +were arching high above their heads; their steps were noiseless on the turf +below; outside were warmth and daylight still, but here the shadows and the +coolness of the night. A leathern-winged bat flitted across their path +through the gathering dusk. "They always look like ghosts," said Addie. +"Doesn't it seem, Percival, as if the night had come upon us unawares?" + +As she spoke they reached a little open space. The path forked right and +left. "Which way?" said Thorne. + +"I don't know, I'm sure. There's a cottage on the farther side of the wood, +toward the river--" + +"Is that your destination? To the right, then." And to the right they went. + +"When you promised to help me," Addie began, "do you remember what you +said? I was to consider you as--" She paused, fixing her questioning eyes +on him. + +"As a brother. What then? Have I failed in my duty already?" + +She shook her head, smiling: "Percival, what do you think that means to +me?" + +"Ah, that's a difficult question. Of course we who have no brothers can +only imagine--we cannot know. But I have sometimes fancied that the idea we +attach to the word brother is higher because no commonplace reality has +ever stepped in to spoil it. For it is an evident fact that some people +have brothers who are prosaic, and even disagreeable, while all the noble +brothers of history and romance are ours. We may take Lord Tresham for our +ideal (you remember Tresham in _A Blot in the 'Scutcheon?_), and declare +with him-- + + I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds + All the world's love in its unworldliness." + +"Stop!" said Addie. "You are going into the question much too +enthusiastically and much too poetically. I don't know anything about your +Tresham. And you mustn't class me with yourself, 'we who have no brothers.' +I have one, Percival." + +"A brother? You have one? Why, I always fancied--" + +"Well, a half-brother." Addie made this concession to strict truth with +something of reluctance in her tone, as if she did not like to own that her +brother could possibly have been any nearer than he was. "It is my brother +I am going to meet to-night." + +Percival, fluent on the subject of brothers in general, was so astonished +at the idea of this particular brother or half-brother that he said "Oh!" + +"Papa married twice," Addie explained--"the first time when he was very +young. I don't think his first wife was _quite_ a lady," she said, lowering +her voice as if the beeches might be given to gossiping. + +Percival would not have been happy as a dweller in the Palace of Truth. He +thought, "Then Mr. Blake's two wives were alike in _one_ respect." + +"And though Oliver was a dear boy," she went on, "he hasn't been very +steady. He has had a good deal of money at one time or another, and wasted +it; and he and mamma don't get on at all." + +"Ah! I dare say not." + +"Naturally, she thinks more about Lottie and me; and Oliver has been very +tiresome. He was to be in the business with papa, but he didn't do +anything, and he got terribly into debt, and then he ran away and enlisted. +Papa bought him off, and found him something else to do; but mamma was +dreadfully vexed: she said it was a disgrace to the family." + +"Did he do better after that?" + +"Not much," Addie owned. "In fact, I think he has spent most of his time +since then in running away and enlisting. I really believe he has been in a +dozen regiments. We were always having to write to him, 'Private Oliver +Blake, Number so and so, C company, such a regiment.' It didn't look well +at all." + +(Addie, as she spoke, remembered how her mother used to sneer, "No doubt +some day you'll meet your _brother_ in a red jacket with a little cane, his +cap very much on one side, and a tail of nursemaids wheeling their +perambulators after him." Such remarks had been painful to Addie, but even +then she had felt that Mrs. Blake had cause to complain.) + +"He was always bought off, I suppose?" said Percival. + +"Once papa declared he wouldn't. Oliver went on very quietly for a little +while, and was to be a corporal. Then he wrote and said he was going to +desert that day week, and he was afraid it might be very awkward for him +afterward, especially if he ever enlisted again, but he would take his +chance sooner than stop. Papa knew he would do it, so he had to buy him off +again." + +"But is this going on for ever?" + +"No: for the last three years Oliver has been in dreadful disgrace, I don't +exactly know why, and we were not allowed to mention his name at home. But +I don't care," said Addie impetuously: "if he were ever so foolish, and if +he had enlisted in every regiment under the sun, he's my brother." + +"And Lottie? Does she stand by him as valiantly?" + +"Oliver is nothing to Lottie: he never was. He is nine years older than she +is, and when she would really begin to remember him he and mamma were +always quarrelling. Besides, he always petted me--not Lottie. And now she +despises him because he doesn't stick to anything and get on. No--poor old +Noll is _my_ brother, only mine. No one else cares for him, except papa." + +"Mr. Blake hasn't given him up, then?" + +"Oh, he is angry with Oliver when they are apart, but he always forgives +him when they meet. He was really angry this last time, but Oliver wrote to +him, and they made it up. Only, my poor old Noll is to be sent over the sea +to Canada with a man papa knows something of." + +"And this is good-bye? But surely they can't mind your meeting him before +he goes?" + +"They do," said Addie. "Papa and mamma saw him in London ten days ago, and +he was only forgiven on condition that he went away quietly and said +nothing to any one. As if he wasn't sure to tell me! Mamma knows how it has +been before: she thinks if papa or I saw him alone he might get round us, +and then he wouldn't go. If he is steady and does well there, he is to come +and see us all in two years." + +"That isn't very long, is it?" said Percival cheerfully. It was evident to +him that this black sheep would be much better away. + +"Long! Oh no! Only, you see, Oliver _won't_ do well unless there's +something very converting in Canadian air. So I may as well say good-bye to +him, mayn't I? Mind, Percival, you are not to think he's wicked. He won't +do anything dreadful. He'll spend all the money he can get, and then drift +away somewhere." + +"A sort of Prodigal Son," Thorne suggested. + +"Yes. You won't understand him--how should you? You are always wise and +well-behaved, and a credit to every one--more like the son who stayed at +home." + +"Not an attractive character," was his reply. And he remembered Horace a +few hours before: "Not to-day, old fellow: you lecture me, you know." He +was startled. "Good Heavens!" he thought, "am I a prig?" + +Addie laughed: "Well, I am trusting to you to understand _me_, at any rate. +Just like Oliver!" she went on. "He came once, years ago, to stay with old +Miss Hayward, who left us the house, and he knew something then of the man +at this cottage; so he tells me to meet him there, without ever thinking +how I should get to the place by myself at nine at night. Hush! what's +that?--Oh, Noll! Noll!" + +A man's voice was heard at a little distance singing, and she darted +forward, her eyes alight with joy. Percival followed, slackening his pace +and listening to Mr. Oliver Blake's rendering of "Champagne Charlie is my +name." It ceased abruptly. He doubted what to do, took a step or two +mechanically, and came suddenly out on the open space at the farther side +of the wood, where was the cottage in question. Addie had run forward and +forgotten him. He strolled with elaborate unconsciousness to some palings +near by, turning his back on Addie and her brother, rested his folded arms +there and gazed at the placid landscape. Below ran the little stream by +which he had loitered in the morning, hurrying now in a straighter course, +like an idle messenger who finds that time has fled much faster than he +thought. The river-mist hung white above the level meadows, and it seemed +to Percival as if Nature, falling asleep, had glided into a pallid and +melancholy dream. The last gleams of day were blending with a misty flood +of moonlight, beneath which the world lay dwarfed and dark. On the horizon +a little black windmill with motionless sails stood high against the sky, +looking like a toy, as if a child had set it there and gone to bed. + +To Percival, as he stood, came the sound, though not the words, of a rapid +flow of talk, broken by a short, often-recurring laugh. But at last there +was a pause, and the two came toward him. He turned to meet them, and saw +in the moonlight that Oliver Blake was big and broad-shouldered, with black +hair, curling thickly under a jaunty cap, and bright restless eyes. Addie +had her arm drawn fondly through her brother's. + +"Oliver," she said, "this is Percival: you have heard me speak of him." + +Oliver bent his head in a blunt, constrained way and looked doubtfully at +the other. Percival, who was going to extend his hand, withheld it, and +made a stately little bow in return. + +"That's very magnificent," said Addie to him.--"Why, Noll," she laughed, +"you needn't be so cautious. Percival knows. He is to be trusted." + +"Ah!" said Oliver. "What does that feel like, now?" + +"What does what feel like?" said Thorne as they shook hands. "Being +trusted, do you mean?" + +"Ay. Being trusted or being to be trusted. I don't know either sensation +myself." + +"Not likely, dear boy," said Addie, "with your way of going on. And yet Mr. +Osborne must have trusted you, or how did you get the money and get away? +You weren't to have any till you sailed, were you?" + +"Would you like to know?" said Oliver, his dark eyes twinkling. "I tried to +persuade him--no good. Then I told him a--don't be horrified--it was a very +fine specimen of fiction--" + +"Oliver!" + +"Which is no doubt set down to the governor's account." + +"Did he believe you?" + +"Well, he didn't know what to do. I don't think he would have, only if it +wasn't true it was so stupendous, you see. He hesitated, and that made him +relax his watchfulness a little. So I gave him the slip and pawned part of +my outfit, which we bought together the day before." + +"You bad boy!" + +"I left him a bit of a note. I told him that if he held his tongue I would +surely be there again to-morrow, we'd get the things, and no one would be +any the wiser. But if he made a row he might whistle for me, and catch me +if he could." + +"And you don't know the effect of that, I suppose?" said Percival. + +"Well, no. I read it over when I'd done to try and judge it impartially. +And I made up my mind--considering the character he'd had of me--that if I +were Osborne I should say that Blake meant to back out of his bargain with +all he could lay his hands on, and was trying to secure two days' +start.--What do you think I did, Addie?" + +"Something silly, I've no doubt." + +"Well," he said, looking at her with an admiring gaze, which partly +explained to Percival the secret of her fondness for her brother, "_I_ +thought it was rather clever. I just popped in the letter I had from you, +and your photograph, and if that doesn't convince him, I give him up." + +"Oh, Noll! How _could_ you? What is he like?" + +Blake burst out laughing: "Listen to her! A man has got her photograph: he +instantly becomes an interesting object.--Oh, he isn't a bad-looking +fellow, Addie. I dare say he's glaring at you now through his spectacles." + +"Spectacles! Oliver, you've no business to go giving my photograph to all +sorts of people. And I hate him too, because if it hadn't been for him +perhaps you wouldn't have been going away to Canada." + +"What then?" said he philosophically. "Your mother would have had a dear +friend on the point of starting for the Cannibal Islands." + +Percival began to feel a little anxious about time, and to wonder when the +real leave-taking was to commence. He looked at his watch after the manner +of a stage-aside, and Addie took the hint. + +Five minutes later she came toward him with bent head and averted eyes: +"I'm ready, Percival." But they had not gone a dozen steps when she sobbed, +"Oh, my poor Noll!" and rushed back. As young Thorne looked after her he +heard the quick spurt of a match. Oliver had turned on his heel already and +was lighting his cigar. "Heartless brute!" said Percival. + +The verdict was unjust. Oliver had taken infinite pains to secure this +glimpse of his sister, but since it was over it _was_ over. He loved her, +and she knew it, but he was not the man to stand sentimentally staring at +Addie's back as she disappeared into the shadows of Langley Wood. Now, +Percival could not have failed in such a matter, though he might have +thought no more about it than did Oliver Blake. + +When he and Addie were once more on their way he occupied himself solely +with the slight difficulties of her path, but before they had gone halfway +she was making an effort to talk in her usual style, and succeeding fairly +well. They were just at the place where the paths branched off, and +Percival was stooping to disentangle her dress, which was caught on a +bramble. As he raised himself he heard an approaching step, and quick as +thought he laid his hand on Addie's arm. A couple of yards farther and they +would be in the one path, and must meet the newcomer. Standing where they +were, it was an even chance: he might pass them or might go the other way. +Addie stood breathless, and Percival's heart gave a quick throb, more for +Addie's sake than his own. But, after all, it might be no one who knew +them, and in that dim light-- + +The moon glided with startling swiftness from behind a fleecy cloud and +shone on their white faces. The man, passing close by, started and stepped +back, recovered himself with a muttered ejaculation, and said, "Fine +evening, Mr. Thorne," as he passed. + +"Very," Percival replied. "Good-night." + +The other returned a "Good-night, sir," and disappeared in the twilight. + +"He knew you," said Addie. She looked frightened. Her parting from Oliver +had unnerved her: difficulties which she had made light of in the happiness +of anticipation seemed more formidable now. Standing there in the white +moonlight and dim shadows of the wood, she suddenly realized the strange +and doubtful aspect her expedition with Percival Thorne must wear to +ordinary eyes. Nor was her companion likely to reassure her. An air of +sombre resolution was more in his line than the light-hearted confidence +which would have treated the whole affair as a trifle. He was, as Addie +herself had called him, "well behaved." She would have trusted him to the +death, only just at that moment a little touch of happy recklessness would +have been a greater comfort to her than his anxious loyalty. But Percival +could never be reckless: deliberately indifferent he might be, but reckless +never. + +"He knew you," said Addie, as they resumed their walk. + +"Yes, but he would not know you. It does not signify much," was Percival's +reply. + +"But he does know me." + +"Impossible! Oh, you mean he knows your name." + +She nodded: "He often passes our house. Always on Thursday, when a lot of +people go by. Isn't it a market somewhere?" + +"Brookley market. Oh yes, he would go there, no doubt." + +"Once or twice I have been walking on the road, and he has driven past. I +know his face quite well, and I'm sure--I should think--he knows mine." + +"Very likely he may not have recognized you in this half-light," said +Percival. + +She shivered: "He did. I felt him look right through me." + +"Well, suppose he did. After all, there is no reason why we should not take +a walk together on a summer evening if we like, is there?" + +"Where is he going?" said Addie. "To the cottage?" + +"Oh dear, no! There are endless paths in the wood. He will turn off still +more to the right: he cuts off a corner so going from Fordborough to his +home." + +"Who and what is he?" was Miss Blake's next question as they emerged into +the road. + +"Silas Fielding. He farms a little bit of old Garnett's land, and I rather +think he rents an outlying field or two of my grandfather's. A horsey sort +of fellow. I am not particularly fond of Mr. Silas Fielding," said +Percival, and they walked a little way in silence. + +"You mustn't come any farther," said Addie. "Percival, I don't know how to +thank you." + +"Don't do it, then. I see no occasion." + +"But I see occasion--very great occasion." + +"Then we will consider it done," said Percival. + +Mrs. Wardlaw's house was very near. "I'm not late, am I?" said Addie. + +He looked at his watch: "A little more than a quarter to ten--very good +time. I shall watch you along this last little bit of road, and see you let +in. Good-night." + +"Good-night." She went quickly away, and he waited as he had promised. She +looked back at him once, and saw him stand, dark and motionless like a +bronze statue. She reached the garden-gate, and just as a farmer's gig, +with one man in it, dashed past, she ran up the little flight of steps, +knocked, and was instantly admitted, as if Mrs. Wardlaw stood inside with +her hand on the latch. Percival, seeing this, turned to begin his homeward +walk, but as the gig rattled up to him its speed was slackened. + +"Mr. Thorne! Isn't it Mr. Percival Thorne?" + +It was the young artist driving back to the farm in Mr. Collins's old gig, +and inducing Mr. Collins's old horse to go at a headlong pace. "I thought +it was you standing in the moonlight," he said. "Can't I give you a lift?" + +Percival accepted, and they started off, if possible more vehemently than +before. + +"I must look sharp," explained the young man whose name was Alf, "or I +shall be late at the farm." + +"You have only just come from Fordborough?" said Percival. + +"No. I put up the horse and stayed later than I meant. I'd no idea that +dull little hole of a town could wake up so. Why, it is flapping with flags +from one end to the other. I never saw such a lot of tramps and drunken men +in my life." + +"Charming idea you have of waking up!" + +"And brass bands and gypsies," the other went on. "When I wanted to come +away the hostler was drunk and couldn't find the horse, and I couldn't find +the gig; that is, I could find a score all exactly like this one, but as to +knowing which of all the gigs in the yard belonged to old Collins, I +couldn't have told to save my life." + +"You got it at last, I suppose?" said Thorne. + +The other was cautious: "Well, I got _this_. The man put the horse in +somehow, and then he was so far gone he began to talk to himself and undo +the harness again. I believe he thought he'd put in a pair by mistake, and +was trying to take one out. However, I stopped that, and got away after a +fashion." + +"They are early birds at the farm, no doubt?" + +"Early? Rather! At half-past nine old Collins creaks up stairs, and Mrs. +Collins goes into the kitchen and rakes out the cinders for fear of fire. I +was out late one night last week, and she couldn't wake the old man up to +let me in. It was twenty minutes to eleven." + +"Did she come herself?" said Percival. "I know Mrs. Collins by daylight, +but I can't imagine Mrs. Collins aroused from her first sleep." + +"'Where ignorance is bliss.' The dear old lady kept me on the doorstep for +ten minutes or so while she was trying to make up her mind whether she +would keep her nightcap on, or whether she would take it off and put on +the light-brown front she ordinarily wears. At last she made up her mind to +retain the nightcap and add the front by way of a finish. But I have it on +her own authority that she was flurried and all of a shake, so she didn't +carry out her idea skilfully. The cap was half off and the front was only +half on. I saw her forehead getting lower and lower as she spoke to me." + +"Could she ever forgive you for seeing her so?" + +"Oh yes. I'm rather a favorite, I think. She beamed on me just the same the +next morning." + +"She did?" said Thorne. "A wonderful woman!" + +"I think I shall ask her for a lock of her chestnut hair to-morrow before I +go, to show that my faith in it is--well, as implicit as ever. Ah! by the +way, I got my letter. I thought most likely I should. I leave the first +thing in the morning." + +"Sorry to hear it," said Percival. But it occurred to him that the artist's +departure would prevent any talk the next day of the circumstances of their +meeting that evening. He jumped down, with hasty thanks to his new friend +when they came to the little gate. "You'll be in a ditch if you don't look +out," he called after him. + +"All right!" was shouted back, and old Collins's gig vanished into the +outer darkness with the young artist, whom Percival Thorne has never +chanced to meet again to this day. + +He let himself in with his key and hurried up to the house. The door which +opened on the terrace was unfastened as usual. The lights were burning in +the drawing-room, but no one was there, and the bright vacant room had a +strange ghostly aspect, a little island of mellow radiance in the vast +silence and darkness of the night. He felt like one in a dream, and stood +idly thinking of the young painter rattling in old Collins's gig to Willow +Farm; of Silas Fielding striding across the meadows with thoughts intent on +his bargains; of Oliver Blake turning in with a yawn when his cigar was +done; of Addie forcing back her unshed tears and hiding deep in her heart +the well-spring of her tenderness for her poor Noll. He had not done +justice to Addie Blake. Something of the feeling of underlying beauty, +unsought or ignored, which he gained from his artist-friend's talk in the +morning, had come to him in a slightly altered form with Addie that +evening. With Alf it was the every-day world which revealed new +beauty--with Addie it was shown in what Percival had taken for a prosaic +and commonplace character. He found himself wondering whether he might not +have failed to do justice to others besides Addie. He had looked far away +for his ideal, and had found a fair faint dream, when it might be that the +reality was close at hand. Since the wayside had blossomed with unexpected +loveliness, what grace and charm and hidden treasure might be his prize who +should win his way into the fenced garden of Sissy's sweet soul! + +He started from his reverie, and was surprised to find that it had lasted +only two or three minutes: it seemed to him as if he had been dreaming a +long while in that bright loneliness. He walked to the window, with "Where +can they all be?" on his lips. And for an answer to his question, standing +at the far end of the terrace was Sissy. As he hurried through the hall to +join her the library-door opened an inch or two and a voice inquired, "Who +is that?" + +"It is I--Percival," he answered in haste. + +At the word "Percival" the door opened wider, and Mr. Thorne looked out: +"Oh! where is Sissy?" + +"On the terrace." + +"And Horace?" + +"I don't know," still chafing to be gone. + +"Sissy ought to come in. It's a quarter-past ten." He looked up at the +great hall-clock. "Yes, a quarter-past ten, and she will be catching cold." + +"I'll tell her." + +"Did you come in for a shawl for her? Take her one--anything." + +"I will;" and Percival made a dash at the row of pegs and caught down the +first thing which looked moderately like a cloak. Then he escaped. + +Sissy was coming to the house, but so leisurely that the journey was likely +to take her a considerable time. "At last!" she said as he came up to her: +"Why, which way--Oh, it's _you_, Percival!" + +"You thought I was Horace?" he said as he put the cloak round her. + +"Yes, for the moment I did. What are you muffling me up like this for?" + +"Orders," said Percival. "My grandfather said you were to come in, and that +I was to bring you a shawl." + +"What is the good of this thing if I'm to go in?" + +"Very sensibly put. Evidently no good at all. So we will turn round and go +to the end of the terrace and back, unless you are tired." + +She was not tired. + +"And you took me for Horace? I always said we were alike." + +"You are not a bit alike." + +"Oh no, of course not." + +"Don't be absurd," said Sissy. "Anybody's like anybody if it's pitch dark +and they don't speak." + +"I rather suspect Horace and I might be alike if it were a half-light, and +if we _did_ speak," said Percival. "Remember the photograph. But where is +Horace all this time? What have you been doing with yourself?" + +"He's somewhere about," said Sissy. "First of all, we had a little croquet. +Then it got too dark to play, so I went to see after Aunt Harriet. Her head +was worse; so she said she would go to bed." + +"Poor old lady! Best thing she could do. She'll be better to-morrow, I +hope." + +"Then Horace and I thought we would go and look up his old nurse. She has +been teasing me ever so long, wanting to see 'Master Horace,' and it's only +across a couple of fields. But she wasn't at home, and the cottage was shut +up." + +"Gone to Fordborough for the day, most likely." + +"I dare say. She has a niece there. Then we came back, and Horace didn't +much want to go in, because of this afternoon, you know; so we stayed in +the long walk, and he smoked and we listened to the nightingales." + +"Very delightful," said Percival. "The long walk and the nightingales, I +mean." + +"And then there was a little pinkish light in the sky, and he thought there +was a fire somewhere. So he went into the park to get a better view, and +after I had waited for him a little while I came up here and met you." + +A quick step was heard on the gravel behind them. + +"Oh, here you are!" said Horace. "The fire doesn't seem to be anything, +Sissy, after all. The light got fainter and fainter, and it's all gone +now." + +"Where did you think it was?" Percival inquired. + +"Well, I thought from the direction that it must be at old Garnett's Upland +Farm, but it can't have been much. So you have got back?" + +"Yes. Hadn't we better go in? You must mind what you are about, Horace, +though it _is_ warm. That cough of yours--" + +"Stuff and nonsense about my cough!" But he turned to go in nevertheless. + +"By the way," said Percival, as he walked between them, "you've been out +all the evening: does any one know I've been away?" + +"No," said Sissy. "Why, don't you want--" + +"I would rather they didn't," he replied. (The stars in their courses +seemed to fight for Addie and her secret, had it not been for that untoward +meeting with Silas Fielding.) + +Horace wore a knowing expression. He was rather pleased that his lecturer +should be compelled to seek a pledge of secrecy from him. It made him feel +more on a level with the well-conducted and independent Percival. "All +right!" he said. + +"You may trust me," in a softly earnest voice on the other side. + +"Thank you both," said Percival, but his eyes thanked Sissy. + +"What have you been after?" asked Horace. "I thought most likely you were +off to the friend you met this morning." + +The astonishing way in which circumstances conspired to aid in guarding the +mystery! "I have been with him," said Percival. + +(We value the opinion of others too much very often for our own peace. +Queer, unsubstantial things those opinions often are. "I have been with +him." Sissy felt a little glow of kindliness toward the unknown: it might +have been, "I have been with her." She was prejudiced in his favor, and +sure that he was a nice fellow. Horace was ready to stake something on his +conviction that he was a bad lot, this fellow Percy had picked up, and that +Percy knew it.) + +Percy was still warm with the chivalrous devotion which had been kindled in +him that evening. It was reserved for the colder morning light to reveal to +him that what with Lottie on the hillside and Addie in Langley Wood he was +plunging into little adventures which were hardly consistent with the +character of a most prudent young man. Yet such was the character he was +supposed to have undertaken to support in the world's drama. + +They reached the door, and Horace went in, but Sissy lingered yet a moment +on the threshold. "Isn't it all beautiful?" she said, taking one more look: +"if it could only last!" + +Percival smiled: "Sissy, have _you_ learnt that?" + +"November--bare boughs and bitter winds--I hate to think of it," she said. + +"I would say, 'Don't think of it,' but it would be no good," he replied. +"When the thought of change has once occurred to you while you look at a +landscape, it is a part of every landscape thenceforward. But it gives a +bitter charm." + +"Spring will come again," she said; "but death and parting and loss--they +are so dreadful! And growing old! Oh, Percival, why must they all be?" + +He shrugged his shoulders: "The whole world echoes your 'Why?' Sissy, I +wish I could help you, but I can't. I can only tell you that I understand +what you feel. It is very terrible looking forward to age--to loss of +powers, hopes and friends. One feels sometimes as if one could not tread +that long gray road to the grave." + +Sissy shivered, as if she saw it drawn out before her eyes. + +"But after all it may be brighter than we think," he went on after a pause. +"There is joy and beauty in change, as well as bitterness. If everything in +the world were fixed and unalterable, would not that be far more terrible? +As it is, we have all the possibilities on our side. Who knows what +gladness may grow out of endless change?" Yet even as he spoke he was +conscious of a wild, impotent longing to snatch her--she was so delicate +and sweet--from beneath the great revolving wheels of time, with a cry of + + Stay as you are, and be loved for ever. + +But the poet's very words carry the sentence of doom in the memory that the +blossom to which they were uttered must have perished years ago. + +"Sissy," he said suddenly, "surely there cannot be much suffering reserved +for you. Oh, poor child! I wish I could take it all in your place." He +spoke in all earnestness, yet could he have looked into the future he would +have seen that her suffering would not be long, but very keen, and his not +to bear, but to inflict. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +MEANWHILE. + +Percival Thorne had never thought much on the subject of revenge. He rather +took it for granted that deliberate revenge was an extraordinary and +altogether exceptional thing. People give way to bursts of passion which +pass away and leave no trace: they are so hot with fury which comes to +nothing at all that at the first glance it seems as if the anger which +bears fruit must be something different in kind. But it is possible that if +Percival had considered the matter he might have arrived at the conclusion +that revenge does not depend only on intensity of passion, but on intensity +of passion and aptness of opportunity together. Disembodied hate soon dies +unless it is fiendish in its strength. + +[Illustration: "ADDIE STOOD BREATHLESS, AND PERCIVAL'S HEART GAVE A QUICK +THROB."--Page 676.] + +He had had fair warning at the birthday party. Lottie, smarting with +humiliation, had looked him full in the face with a flash of such bitter +enmity as springs from the consciousness of one's own folly. And Lottie's +eyes conveyed their meaning well. That very afternoon, when Percival +looked up as he lay on the turf at her feet, they had been most eloquent of +love. "Foolish child!" he had thought, "she is only seventeen to-day, and +childish still." When he encountered the sudden flash of hate he would +hardly have been surprised at some instant manifestation of it. Had she +carried a dagger, like + + Our Lombard country-girls along the coast, + +vengeance might have come at once. But she spoke to him later in her +ordinary voice, and touched his hand when she bade him good-night; and it +was only natural to conclude that nothing would follow her glance of fury. +Something of bitterness might linger for a while, but Lottie was only +seventeen, and that afternoon she had loved him. + +He was right enough. There was nothing fiendish in Lottie's hatred: it +would soon have spent its strength in helpless longings and died. But that +very night it flew straight to Horace Thorne, and unobserved found shelter +there. It assumed a shape not clearly defined as yet, but a shape which +time would surely reveal. It drew Lottie to the young man's side while the +tears of pain and shame were hardly yet dry upon her burning cheeks. + +In spite of the talk on her birthday morning, Lottie hardly understood the +relative positions of the Thornes. Percival was disinherited and Horace was +the heir. Naturally, she supposed that Horace was the favorite, and that +the old man was displeased with Percival. She concluded that the small +income of which the latter had spoken was probably a grudging allowance +from Mr. Thorne. His grandfather protected and patronized him now, and no +doubt it would be in Horace's power to protect and patronize him hereafter. +Lottie hardly knew what she dreamed or wished, but she felt that she should +indeed be avenged if the dole might in any way be regulated by her caprice, +given or withheld according to the mood of the moment. + +Meanwhile, Percival drifted contentedly on, unconscious that Lottie had +vowed vengeance and Sissy devotion. Mr. Thorne went about with an air of +furtive triumph, as if he were tasting the sweetness of having outwitted +somebody. Horace divided his time between divers pleasures, but contrived +to run down to Fordborough once just before he went yachting with a friend. +He took to letter-writing with praiseworthy regularity, and yet his +accustomed correspondents were curiously unaware of his sudden energy. He +too had his look of triumph sometimes, but it was uneasy triumph, as if he +were not absolutely certain that some one might not have outwitted him. +Oliver Blake on board the good ship Curlew had passed the period of +sea-sickness, and was flirting desperately with a lively fellow-passenger, +while Addie followed him with anxious thoughts. About this time his father +went in secret to consult a London doctor, and came away with a grave face +and a tender softening of his heart toward his only son. A visit to his +lawyer ensued, and of this also Mrs. Blake knew nothing. The girls played +croquet as before, Lottie won the ivory mallet on the great field-day of +the Fordborough club, and Mrs. Rawlinson and Miss Lloyd hated her with +their sweetest smiles. Week after week of glorious weather went by. +Brackenhill lay stretched in the sleepy golden sunshine, and the leaves in +Langley Wood, quivering against the unclouded blue, had lost the freshness +of the early summer. The shadows and the sadness were to come. + + +CHAPTER XII. + + Well, what's gone from me? + What have I lost in you?--R. BROWNING. + +Percival awoke one day to the consciousness that the world was smaller, +grayer and flatter than he had supposed it. At the same moment he became +aware that a burden was lifted from his shoulders and that a disturbing +element was gone out of his life. + +This is how the change in the universe was effected. Percival met Godfrey +Hammond, and they talked of indifferent things. As they were parting +Hammond looked over his shoulder and came back: "I knew there was something +I wanted to ask you. Have you heard that the young lady with the latent +nobility in her face is going to be married?" + +"What young lady?" said Percival stiffly. He knew perfectly well, and +Hammond knew that he knew. + +"Miss Lisle." + +"No, I hadn't heard. Who is he?" + +"The happy man? Lord Scarbrook's eldest son." + +"Who told you?" + +"You are incredulous, but I fear I can't soften the blow. The man who told +me heard Lisle talking about it." + +"There's no blow to soften," said Percival, "I assure you I don't feel it." + +"Ah," said Hammond, "there was once a man who didn't know that his head had +been cut off till he sneezed--wasn't there? Take great care of yourself, +Percival." And nodding a second farewell Godfrey left him, and Percival +went on his way through that curiously shrunken world. + +And, after all, the blow was premature. Mr. Lisle had only talked of a +probability which he earnestly hoped would be realized. + +But Percival did not doubt it. He tried to analyze his feelings as he +walked away. He had known but little of Judith Lisle, but when first he saw +her face he felt that the vague dream which till then had approached, only +to elude him, in clouds, in fire, in poems, in flowers, in music, had taken +human shape and looked at him out of her gray eyes. Percival had no certain +assurance that she _was_ his ideal, but from that time forward he pictured +his ideal in her guise. + +He did not dream of winning her. Mr. Lisle had boasted to him one evening, +as they sat over their wine, of all that he meant to do for his daughter, +and of the great match he hoped she would make. Percival had a feeling of +peculiar loyalty to Mr. Lisle as the friend whom his dead father had +trusted most of all. He could not think of Judith, for he could never be a +fit husband for her in Mr. Lisle's eyes. Had he been heir to +Brackenhill--But he was not. + +So he acquiesced, patiently enough. He did not attempt to do anything. What +was there to do? By the time that he had struggled through the crowd and +got his foot on the first round of that ladder which _may_ lead to fortune, +Judith would probably be married. He did not even know certainly that she +was the woman he wanted to win. Why should he force the lazy stream of his +existence into a rough and stony channel that he might have a +chance--infinitesimally small--of winning her. + +Yet there were moments of exaltation when it seemed to him as if his +acquiescence were tame and mean--as if his life would miss its crown unless +he could attain to his ideal. At such moments he felt the stings of shame +and ambition. Yet what could he do? The mood passed, and left him drifting +onward as before. + +But now all thought of Judith Lisle was over. Even if she were in truth his +ideal woman, it was certain that she was no longer within his reach. That +haunting possibility was gone. All that it had ever done for him was to +make him dissatisfied with himself from time to time, and yet he found +himself regretting it. + +[TO BE CONTINUED.] + + + + +CAPTURED BY COSSACKS. + +EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF A FRENCH OFFICER IN 1813.[B] + +[Illustration: COSSACKS AND FRENCH PRISONERS.] + +WISMAR, Mecklenburg-Schwerin, March 8, 1813. + +MY DEAR PARENTS: I regret to announce that recent public events have sadly +disturbed the relatively comfortable circumstances which favored my +convalescence. Since the 26th ult. our lines have been drawn in, and I have +accompanied my detachment to this place, where the expected arrival of +General Morand from Pomerania will probably be the signal of a hasty +retreat. The lamentable fate of our grand army in barbarous Russia is now +casting its shadows upon us. It is because so many of our friends remained +_there_ that we shall have to move from _here_. Possibly, a speedy return +to the home I left nine years ago may afford some compensation for this +inglorious retreat. The cities of Hamburg and Lubeck are in open revolt and +ill-treating and driving away the French authorities. If only we had once +the Elbe in our rear! The Cossacks are not far off, and the whole country +is awaiting them with open arms. Adieu for to-day. + + +WISMAR, 13th March, 1813. + +General Morand and his command arrived here at noon to-day. My brothers, +Frank and Louis, are with him and in the best of health. Our trio held a +council of war an hour ago, and unanimously resolved to remain at the post +of honor whatever may betide. I reported in person to the general, who, +after viewing my scar from the Hamburg bullet, assured me that my name +would appear on the next recommendation for promotions. All the members of +our brigade who had been on coast-guard duty in Mecklenburg are being +reorganized into a special battalion, in which I retain the rank of first +lieutenant. Frank holds a sergeant's commission, while little Louis remains +a private fusilier. An order of the day announces that furloughs are out of +the question, and that deserters will be dealt with as every one knows how. +The latter bit of information is for the special benefit of our Saxon +allies, of whom our command embraces twelve hundred. The remainder of it +consists of three hundred artillery-men, four hundred marines, two hundred +and fifty coast-guards and a squad of civil and military functionaries--all +French and well armed and equipped. To-morrow the homeward march begins. + + +ACROSS THE ELBE! WINSEN-ON-THE-LUCKE, 18th March. + +As the enemy is close upon our heels, we left Wismar in double-quick time. +On the 16th, on leaving Moellen, Frank and I visited the grave of the +famous German jester Eulenspiegel, but did not take time to drive memorial +nails into the surrounding trees, as thousands of pilgrims had done before +us. + +Not far from there we suddenly came upon a band of Cossacks resting their +jaded nags in a marshy meadow. It was something of a mutual surprise. A +single glance down our line convinced the hostile commander that we could +not consistently give him time to get away. Hence, waving a white streamer +at the butt end of a lance, he rode forward and called in passable German +for a _parlementaire_. My anxiety to learn all about this new and singular +race of people induced me to request this appointment, which was promptly +granted by the commander of our van. No diplomatic chicaneries hampered my +mission, which was accomplished in a very few minutes. The result was an +unconditional surrender. The poor fellows were the victims of an excess of +zeal, having ridden ahead of us while they imagined themselves on our +flank. The terms of our future relations being mutually agreed upon, the +commander, who had acquired his German in the Prussian service, and was no +stranger to Virgil and Horace, offered me a hearty shake of his right hand, +while the other, deftly unbuckling a holster, drew forth a sample of +genuine Mecklenburger Kuemmel schnapps, which proved not unworthy of +cementing a treaty of peace. While the prisoners were being marshalled into +custody I had ample opportunity to scan the fifty specimens of exotic +humanity before me, but utterly failed to discover in their outward +features the proverbial elements of popular terror. Though generally nimble +and well-proportioned, they were scarcely above the average French +voltigeur in stature, and a bullet or rapier would find the way through +their untanned sheepskin jackets just as easily as through any more +civilized uniform. Apart from their lances, which they are said to handle +with dangerous skill, these scouts carry no weapons worth mentioning. Their +rusty horse-pistols are almost harmless toys. A more uncouth-looking +soldier than a Cossack on foot can hardly be imagined. Perhaps it is not +fair to judge them in this abnormal predicament. When they were informed +that they would be treated just like ordinary prisoners, a grin of +satisfaction lighted up their countenances with an expression of droll +humor not suspected before. In the pockets of their cloaks +and _portemanteaux_ were found an amount and variety of pelf somewhat +difficult to account for in the possession of warriors who had not yet +reached the enemy's country. Among the rest I will only mention gold, +silver and copper coins, medals, breastpins, ear- and finger-rings, watches +and chains, seals, meerschaum pipes, snuff-boxes, brass buttons, beads, +tea-spoons, feminine miniatures, locks of flaxen hair of the same sex, and, +last and strangest, bottles of Jean Marie Farina's veritable eau de +Cologne! It may be charitably assumed that the latter three suggestive +articles were the heart's gifts of patriotic North German maidens to their +long-prayed-for liberators. _Honni soit qui mal y pense._ But it is hardly +probable that the original possessors of the more intrinsic valuables had +parted with them from equally sentimental motives. Hence our lads wisely +discriminated in their disposition of the captured treasures, the coins, +jewelry, tea-spoons and meerschaums being temporarily confiscated "until +the proper owners could be found." _A la guerre comme a la guerre._ + +In the night of the 16th-17th we reached Bergdorff, where we halted until +next afternoon. Just before dusk, at the crossing of a stream, we (the van) +were attacked by a partisan column, who relieved us of a dozen prisoners, +and in exchange left a few dead upon the field. We are looking for more of +this sort of warfare until strongly reinforced. We have to contend not only +with the Russians and Prussians, but with all the people on our way, who +have raised their hands against the French. Evidently, we have made few +friends in this country, which--_entre nous_--to an unbiassed mind does not +seem at all strange. Somehow, even when not personally molested, we are +continually losing baggage. I carry only my most indispensable effects on +my horse. My large trunk, though far behind me now, is in trusty hands, +with your address in case anything serious should befall its owner. Frank's +baggage is on the general train, while Louis carries all his worldly +possessions in his knapsack, which begins to act as a powerful sudorific +upon the dear little fellow. + + +BREMEN, 24th March. + +This city has not yet risen in open rebellion, though the faces here are +sullen enough. General Carra St. Cyr, with two battalions of cohortes and +fifteen hundred coast-guards, has succeeded so far in keeping down the +popular temper. But Bremerloe, six leagues from here, is occupied by a +formidable band of armed rebels, and at this very moment a detachment is +being sent out to attend to them. Among the young recruits of St. Cyr's +command I found quite a number of Alsatians, some from my own birthplace, +Saverne. They are all in the highest of spirits and eager to go ahead. +Considering the sacrifice of precious lives our country has made within the +last twenty years, the enthusiasm of these boys is truly wonderful. + + +25th March. + +Bremerloe was captured and the enemy routed. None of your sons were at the +fray, but while I write my horse is being saddled and all is getting ready +for a return march toward the Elbe. Has a victory improved the situation in +our rear, or do some of our retreating brethren need our support? We do not +know. The order is to march. + + +LUeNEBURG, Braunschweig, 1st April, 10 P. M. + +Since our departure from Bremen no bed but the open field or the barest +floor has rested my limbs until this evening, when, for the first time in a +week, I enjoyed the luxury of a change of clothes. How sweet it is to rest +after a hard day's work! This town, surrounded by an old-style ditch and +wall, was even this forenoon in possession of the enemy. About eighty +Cossacks, eight hundred German recruits and the whole male population, +armed with muskets, spears and pitch-forks, defended the place for two +hours. But as we had sixteen field-guns, and they none fit for use, we +defeated them with inconsiderable loss. The greater part of the civilians, +fearing severe punishment, fled with the Cossacks. Our gunners poured in +the shot and grape until there is scarcely a whole window in the western +half of the town. Two of our companies headed the Saxons in the assault +over the wall, while the rest pressed in through the battered-down gates. +Louis was in the lead, and landed inside without a scratch. Having lost his +knapsack in a skirmish on the road, he had no surplus weight to carry. +Frank was close behind me in the rush through the Bardowicker gate. Though +this day may never be honored with a line in the annals of the great +Napoleonic wars, it was quite as hot for a while as any other of greater +fame for those immediately concerned. The street-scenes were ghastly, and +forcibly reminded me of certain others of saddest memory, when, a boy of +only nine years of age, I followed you, my dear parents, over the dead and +mangled bodies of citizens and soldiers out of the town of Saverne, +disgraced and blood-stained by a revolutionary mob. With this difference, +however, that here the dead and wounded were our inveterate foes, while +there they wore the features of our most cherished friends and neighbors. + +[Illustration: DON COSSACKS AND BASHKIRS.] + + +IN A VILLAGE NEAR BOITZENBURG, 4th April. + +How quickly the leaf has turned! At the date of my last we were victors: +to-day we are not only vanquished, but prisoners. + +Do not be alarmed, however, dearest parents. All three of your sons are +alive and well, even relatively comfortable. No complaint even from poor +Louis, who was caught by the Cossacks, robbed of his coat and purse, then +turned over to the citizens, who, after unspeakable insults and brutal +treatment, stripped him of everything but his shirt and drawers. My own +story is too complex to be related to-day. I will only state in brief what +you may have already divined--that on the day following the capture of +Lueneburg we were surprised in and around the town by a vastly superior +force, and worsted after a resistance which was all the more desperate that +we knew what to expect from such an enemy in case of defeat. The ferocity +of the German burgher, backed by his liberators in overwhelming strength, +literally baffles description. I fell in a melee in front of the eastern +gate under a blow from a spear-shaft, which broke the visor clasp of my +shako right over my left ear. When I recovered my senses I was in the +custody of a young "Death Hussar," of whose generous treatment of me more +hereafter. + + +SAME DAY, afternoon. + +The number of my companions in misfortune now collected here is nearly +three hundred. Our departure Russia-ward, which had been fixed for noon +to-day, seems to have been countermanded for the present. + +Our surprise is mainly attributed to some laxity on the part of our Saxon +friends, whose German hearts have naturally mellowed since the French +eagles have taken their homeward flight. This forenoon our brave general, +mortally wounded in his effort to retrieve the disgrace, was buried with +the honors of war at Boitzenburg, half a mile from here. We lost altogether +five hundred dead and wounded, but inflicted a severe loss on the enemy, +who was the attacking party. As near as I can learn, his force consisted of +a large brigade of cavalry, four companies of Russian and three of Prussian +infantry, artillery in proportion, besides the few hundred Cossacks and +armed citizens we had scared out of Lueneburg on the day before. + +Now to return to my story. Perhaps you have not forgotten, my dear parents, +my reference, four years ago, to the notorious Schill, chief of a corps of +Prussian partisans, a brave and devoted patriot, who gave us no little +trouble. Shortly after that time he was pursued by a force of Danes and +Hollanders, our allies, all the way to Stralsund, and killed in a brave +fight. His brother now commands the "Death Hussars" in the Prussian +service. My captor is a Brunswicker of noble birth and character, who +speaks very good French, and recognized me by name and face in connection +with an incident near Hamburg which had impressed him favorably with my +humanity. He seemed to have resolved to do all in his power for my +protection except directly favoring my escape. After he had shielded me +from the burghers' mob and furnished me with a modest suit of citizen's +clothes in order to disguise my rank, I was still encumbered by my +regulation hat, which betrayed me to every eye. He proposed to provide me +with a skull-cap from a friend's wardrobe, and left me to wait for him in a +seemingly deserted lane, a square only from his lodgings. Scarcely, +however, had he turned the corner when I was overtaken by an athletic +journeyman baker, who, pouncing upon me with frantic yells, attracted two +other citizens to the spot, and all now seized hold of me with a vigor +conveying the soothing impression that my agony would be brief. Acting upon +the old adage, that while there is life there is hope, I protracted my +existence by twining my arms around a small linden tree and dealing out +such blows with my heavy riding-boots as I could in that awkward position. +At the same time I summoned to my aid all the power of a healthy pair of +lungs, which my mother often predicted would yet make some noise in the +world, and just before my wind gave out under the pressure of the +bakerman's thumbs, my strategy resulted in the desired success. Shouting +and running at the top of his might, my noble rescuer was soon on the spot +with the skull-cap in one hand and his drawn sabre in the other. In a +twinkling the flat of his blade had loosened the hold of my executioners, +whom he fearlessly berated as cowardly villains for laying hands upon a +prisoner already in his power, and whom he pursued with threats that +visibly quickened their retreating pace. Thanking Heaven for the favor of +permitting him to save my life once more, he now informed me that he had +done all for me that his own oath and duty permitted, and hoped I should be +able to make the best use of my improved situation. At my urgent request, +however, he consented to accompany me to my lodgings, where I had that very +morning left my portfolio and a gold watch, not dreaming of the surprise +that subverted my fate in the course of the day. My landlord, still +gratefully reminiscent of my courteous behavior toward him and his family +on the day of our victory, promptly delivered my property, with hearty +apologies for his inability to do more for me at present; and, +significantly referring to a Prussian captain then at supper in the lower +story, he quietly pressed into my hand a shining silver thaler, which I as +quietly returned with thanks, for the simple reason that I was even then +more able to give than he. "God bless you, my gracious gentleman!" were his +last words as I pressed his honest fist and assured him that if ever in my +power his kindness should be remembered. + +Night had closed around me when I reached the sombre street with my +magnanimous protector. After exchanging names, birthplace and the residence +of our respective parents in our memorandum-books, I thanked him for all +with a fulness of heart to which the moisture of his own thoughtful blue +eyes most eloquently responded, and as he rapidly walked away my +reflections upon the humanity of war were not such as would have +recommended my promotion to the great captain in whose thankless service I +am daily exposing my life. + +[Illustration: BASHKIR.] + +Here, then, I was left absolutely friendless in a hostile town in which my +life was at the mercy of almost every inhabitant. And my poor brothers, +what had become of them? How could I find out? My rescuer had informed me +that the prisoners had already been transported into the country, and that +the wounded were being cared for at the town-hall. In this dilemma my +choice was not difficult. Deliberately walking into a tavern where the +Russian staff were engaged in brewing punch, I declared myself a prisoner, +hungry, and anxious to join my comrades, whose fate I wished to share. I +did not conceal the fact that I hoped to find two brothers among them. To +my agreeable surprise, I found these officers kindly-disposed, +well-educated men, speaking either French or German fluently. Supper was +instantly ordered for me, but, though a fast of fifteen hours was gnawing +at my stomach, I could not prevail upon myself to taste anything before +having seen our wounded, which I asked and obtained leave to do +immediately. An orderly was directed to conduct me to the town-hall across +the square. Here I was distressed to find over sixty of our men and +officers of all arms more or less severely hurt, but none fatally, the +unfortunates of that category, as rumor goes, having been _finished by the +citizens_ before the military took charge of them. I anxiously looked into +every familiar face, but my brothers were not there. No one could tell me +the names of our dead. Frank was seen alive after I fell, just before the +close of the fight, but of Louis nothing whatever was known. Still, I +breathed more freely. A Prussian surgeon in attendance with our own having +called my attention to the contusion over my left ear, which had now +swollen to the size of a small egg, I had it bathed and dressed. + +During my supper at the tavern two of the Russian officers, taking seats +around my table, conversed very freely upon the topics of the day, and, I +must confess, with much delicate regard for the feelings of an enemy in my +condition. They had seen Napoleon in Moscow, and hoped soon to return his +visit in Paris. All Europe was tired of him, his own people not excepted. +The Bourbons would be restored and universal peace would follow. This was +their favorite theme, to which, I candidly own, your son's heart was not a +total stranger. I have long been convinced that Germany could not be +permanently subdued, and that French rule was the most unpopular of all. My +impression is that this nation will henceforth unite and fight until the +foreign yoke is shaken off for ever. + +Supper over, I was informed that I could not be conveyed to my +fellow-prisoners until morning, and that I might share the mattress of a +French sergeant-major confined in an upper room, which turned out to be the +garret. Imagine my surprise on recognizing my favorite Delatre, though his +face was black with mud and powder and his elegant form disguised in the +linen gown of a Mecklenburger teamster! His sleep was too sweet and +precious to be disturbed, and I much enjoyed his wonder when, awaking at +the break of day, he beheld the countenance of one whom he had numbered +among the dead. Our mutual stories were soon told. Delatre had made an +attempt to escape, but was recaptured, did not tell a very plausible tale, +and was held for better identification in the morning. Of my brothers he +knew only that they were both alive when I fell. It was supposed by the +survivors of the company that if I was not killed by the blow I must have +been crushed to death by horses' hoofs and cannon-wheels soon afterward. + +My presence in the house proved to be a fortunate coincidence for my friend +Delatre, since it required my written statement and parole of honor to +clear him of the suspicion of being a spy. These formalities accomplished, +three very slightly wounded fusiliers from the hospital were added to our +number, and we were at once conveyed to this hamlet, on the east side of +the Elbe, where we found our fellow-sufferers quartered in the spacious +outbuildings of a comfortable-looking farm. A deafening shout arose from +one corner of the captive throng so soon as our faces could be +distinguished; and need I, dear parents, describe the scene which +immediately followed when all three of your sons, after a heart's agony of +twenty-four hours, once more, alive and well, fell into each other's arms? + +Frank, with the exception of a few buttons, was still in possession of his +full regimentals, but poor Louis's condition, as already mentioned, was +pitiable enough. My vest and overalls and half of my necktie restored him +to relative decency, and out of a blanket which I purchased at the +farmhouse he is at this moment engaged in planning an elegant-looking Talma +cloak. + +It is significantly remarked that among the three hundred +prisoners--destined to Siberia, I suppose--there is not a single Saxon. +There are reasons of state for this discrimination without a doubt. + + +ON A HALT, 5th April, noon. + +It was not far from sunset last evening when we began to move under the +escort of about sixty Cossacks. Our course lay along the east bank of the +Elbe, and we are _promised_ to be taken to Russia by way of Berlin. It was +near ten o'clock last night before we reached an enclosed farmyard secure +enough to hold so many birds, and we went supperless to bed on a munificent +litter of straw. Frank's humorous stories and mimicry of our friends the +enemies answered admirably for dessert. + +I was one of the first on foot this morning to take a good look at our +escort. These semi-barbarians feel so secure in our utter helplessness that +scarcely half a dozen of them remained on guard after the break of day. +Here they lay stretched in the dew in every conceivable attitude of +well-earned repose, snoring in concert almost under the very feet of their +ponies, who enjoy in a standing position their equine dreams of home on the +distant steppe. The whole barnyard scene, riders, horses and prisoners, +composed one of the most striking pictures of which I ever formed a part, +and to which my hasty sketches, herewith enclosed, do not aspire to do +justice. + +These Cossacks, or more properly Bashkirs, seem to belong to a different +tribe from the Knights of the Don we captured nearly three weeks ago, and +represent mentally and physically a less advanced type. There is no +picturing to yourself exactly such faces as these unless you have once seen +a specimen, upon which your imagination may then work _ad libitum_, +without fear of exaggeration in the direction of the grotesque. A +mythological cross between the fabled satyr and the domestic creature which +furnishes the Westphalia ham is the nearest approach I can suggest to this +type of humanity. How much of their dusky complexion is due to the sun and +how much to the earth could only be determined by an exhaustive experiment +with soap and water, the virtue of which, to them, is still an undiscovered +blessing. To describe the extent to which the Bashkir carries his contempt +for cleanliness in every function of daily life would require pages, and +prematurely disgust you with my interesting subject. The atmosphere for +half a hundred feet around a middle-aged Bashkir has no parallel in any +sensation known to the human nostril. His sheepskin cloak, jacket or vest, +as the case may be, teems with animal life, of which the wearer alone seems +to be unconscious. In feature these people approach the Tartar type, of +which, however, the stiff, wispy, yellow hair and beard, the small piggish +eye, flat nose and fleshy Ethiopian lips seem to mark a characteristic +variety. Many of them walk clumsily or with a stoop, and show other +symptoms of grovelling habits and strong drink. As a rule, the Bashkirs, +like the Cossacks, are armed with lances; among our custodians several +carry long rifles; and at Lueneburg I even saw a few of these singular +warriors with bows and arrows, though perhaps more for show than for use. +As fighting soldiers they strike me as greatly overrated: their native +instincts seem to qualify them much better for scouts and marauders. Both +the Bashkir and Cossack when in action excel in the arts of +self-preservation, skilfully manoeuvring around the verge of danger, +seeking the weak points, and if by force of numbers and long lances now and +then succeeding in a charge _a fond_ upon a baggage-train, yet easily +persuaded into wholesome prudence by a bristling line of bayonets or a +well-directed volley. Their battle-cry is the same as that of the English, +"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" only more melodious; and the same may be said of +their songs, which fall much more agreeably upon a musical ear than the +popular ballads and comical rhymes of our Britannic neighbors. I wish I +could speak as favorably of their religious devotions, which combine the +most bigoted and ludicrous exercises I ever heard of in a Christian sect. +Both the Don and the Bashkir Cossacks belong to the Greek Church, but +whether their mode of worship is the orthodox form or adulterated with +Bashkir improvements, I am not able to state. It is interesting to note +here that the most extravagant professions are indulged in by the older +members of the congregation, while the younger seem content to go through +the principal motions, and not a few even slyly exchange quizzical glances +over the prostrate backs of their seniors in superstition. Perhaps light +will dawn some day even on the benighted banks of the Don and the Volga. + +[Illustration: CIBULSKY.] + +Of the most rudimentary education these simple people do not exhibit a +trace. Reading and writing appear to them the acme of human science, which +the poor Cossack may never hope to reach on this side of the Styx. When a +map is spread before them at random, they promptly inquire which is the +side of the rising sun, and then turn that very properly to their right, +but beyond that their intelligence comes to a halt. Streams, roads and +boundary-lines are to them only a labyrinth of confusion. Even as scouts +and foragers they would be nearly useless without local guides; hence +German officers have been added to their native leaders since they left the +Russian border. The commander of this force is a renegade Pole, a Prussian +subject, by name Cibulsky, _anglice_ onion-man--a remarkable coincidence, +in view of his favorite diet. Though he treats me with becoming respect, he +is not the sort of man to win my affections. + +Though intellectually obtuse, the Cossack must not be supposed to lack +either sagacity or common sense. On the contrary, the keenness of his +instinct and perception, as in the case of most savages, is quite +remarkable. Human nature seems to him an open book, and it is instructive +to watch his ingenuity in getting the upper hand in a bargain, a bet or a +game of chance. This morning I felt anxious to secure a sketch of one of +their typical faces, undisfigured by the traditional beard, but coaxing did +not succeed. A few silbergroschen which I then displayed--all I claimed to +possess--were merrily gobbled up by right of conquest and divided among the +group around me. I felt near the end of my wits, when, observing a dirty +pack of cards protruding from the pocket of my subject, I asked permission +to show him a trick. It was one of those parlor-magic sleights of +hand--like Columbus's egg, the simplest trick in the world when you know +it. I never saw Bashkirs' eyes look half as large as on that occasion, and +half a dozen beards at once were put upon the market at the same price. For +want of time, however, I had to decline all except the one I had first +selected, which rapidly fell under the dexterous scissors of brother Frank; +and opposite is my sketch. + +Of military drill there is very little in Cossack training in the French or +Prussian sense of the word, although the discipline is much better than +might be expected from such irregular troops. Their control of their horses +is unsurpassable, and greatly assisted by the natural docility of the +animal itself. In size below the standard of our lightest cavalry, these +ugly little beasts display uncommon strength and endurance. Possibly a +cross between the Arab and the Percheron might, on a larger scale, produce +a heavy and yet spirited head like that of the bright-eyed Cossack or +Ukraine horse, but to attain an equally fantastic neck and rump some less +symmetrical elements would have to be resorted to. + +Speaking of horses, I am on foot at present, as you may well suppose, but +that only brings me all the nearer to my fellow-sufferers, who, like +myself, are in need of all the sympathy within their reach. Our Bashkirs +being, upon the whole, a good-natured set of fellows and much the worse for +wear, we hope to get along without serious trouble; and for my part I shall +keep a sharp lookout once we reach a familiar section of country. It looks +as if our route would take us through Doemitz, one of my former posts. If +so, patience! + + +COLIS, near Doemitz, Tuesday, 6th April. + +Yesterday, at 2 P. M., we halted near a village five miles from here to +secure the first decent meal since we broke camp. Our sub-officers and +privates received good pickled meat with vegetables, pumpernickel (black +bread) and rye whiskey. The officers were taken into the village and +billeted on comfortable houses for refreshments. Before I started I cut out +of the belt of my drawers six napoleons d'or, which I divided between my +brothers, informing them that we were not far from Doemitz. They understood +me well, and wished me God-speed, promising to follow my example if any +opportunity occurred before they were exchanged. Their last injunction was +to report them to you, my dear parents, in good health and spirits and +bravely resigned to fate; and it was mainly the hope and desire to treat +you to this satisfaction that nerved me to the risk and pain of separation +from the dear boys in their deplorable condition. I would have given one +half of my remaining life to be able to carry them away in my breeches +pockets. It was because they truly felt this that they cheerfully forgave +me this desertion. God bless and protect them for ever, for better sons and +brothers and truer soldiers never lived! + +[Illustration: BASHKIR SHORN AND COMBED.] + +It was here that I had resolved to attempt my escape, as for many miles +around I had, during a protracted occupancy, gained a number of personal +friends, whose feelings I hoped to find unaltered by reverse of fortune. By +the favor of Heaven I was destined to succeed, so far, beyond expectation. +My captain, sub-lieutenant and myself were billeted on one of the last +houses on the road leading to Doemitz, and in charge of a single Bashkir, a +grizzly, good-humored old fellow, and not the very brightest of the lot. +After seeing us comfortably seated around a savory dinner, he squarely +established himself in the front-door, where he was soon absorbed in the +dissection of a huge plate of fishes steeped in fragrant linseed oil. I +should here add that spoons and forks seem unknown to the Bashkir family, +except as trophies of war, especially when they happen to be of silver. +After replenishing my French stomach by means of a regular Mecklenburger +appetite, I left my companions engaged in garnishing their pockets with the +remnants of the feast, and stepped out into the yard bareheaded and +carelessly picking my teeth. Having secured the good-will of my Bashkir +friend by tasting a bite or two of his greasy fish, I proceeded to +entertain him with a variety of gymnastic pranks, especially challenging +his admiration by balancing his lance on the end of my nose until it looked +as flat as his own. This complimentary trick delighted him to such an +extent that the corners of his mouth carried the tips of his broom-sedge +moustache several inches behind his ears. There was not a human being in +the street or yard, the bulk of the population having flocked out to stare +at the rest of the prisoners. Pretending to play with the Bashkir's horse, +which was despatching its oats near the garden-gate, I passed repeatedly +around the corner of the house, gradually increasing the intervals of my +reappearance until I had succeeded in fastening the bridle to the fence by +the nearest imitation possible of a gordian knot. Then coming into view +once more, and beholding my confiding jailer about to seal the fate of his +last fish, I again put the corner of the house between him and me, this +time to return no more. + +My next prank was to leap from the saddle of the Cossack steed over the +fence into the garden, and thence over another fence into a shady orchard, +without being seen by mortal eye. At the outer end of an adjoining barnyard +an old shed with a sunken thatched roof beckoned me into its friendly +shelter, and there, between some old hay-ladders and broken wheels, I +twisted myself through the rotten straw into a cavity to which I confided +my trembling body until dusk. There was of course a moment of critical +suspense, but except the faint, hesitative bark of a small dog that rushed +past my hiding-place and suddenly turned back as if on a false alarm, there +was not a sound or a sign indicating that my movements had been observed or +that search was being made for the fugitive. Did not the jolly old hero +know the difference between two and three, or had he forgotten me over his +fish? + +However that may be, the last stroke of the village curfew found me once +more in the open air. There were just stars enough peeping out between the +fleeting clouds to light my devious path through brush and field to the +house of a trusty friend, whom I aroused from his peaceful slumber at +eleven o'clock. He is the same forester (_Oberfoerster_) of whose attachment +for me I mentioned several instances in my last year's correspondence. His +delight on recognizing me was unfeigned, and he would have been too happy +to shelter me for any length of time but for the fact that the same hostile +command that had captured us in Lueneburg was now retreating toward Doemitz, +having again been driven across the Elbe by the expected advance of Marshal +Davoust's corps. Of course I cannot remain here to compromise my friend, +but shall proceed two leagues farther, to the house of a wealthy farmer, +where I may be concealed until enabled to reach the South Baltic coast. +There, at Christinenfeld, near Kluetz, I shall find more friends, my trunk +with money, clothes and other effects, if this property has not been +betrayed into the enemy's hand. + + +ELDENA, Mecklenburg-Schwerin, 15th April. + +Here I am, since the 8th, safely housed with my old friend, the hospitable +farmer. Yesterday, in a suitable disguise, I visited a public functionary, +son of the county judge (_Oberamtmann_), with whom I was quartered four +years ago, and upon whose discretion I could rely. I broached the subject +of a pass under an assumed name and nationality wherewith to reach Kluetz, +only twenty-four leagues away. Speaking as I do the German language, and +even the Plattdeutsch dialect, almost like a native, I had hoped that my +friend would not hesitate to assume that risk. But upon his exhibiting to +me the stringent orders lately received upon that subject, and mentioning +the penalty attached to detection, I did not insist upon my request. I +shall undertake the journey as best I can, without a passport, _a la garde +de Dieu_. + + +CHRISTINENFELD, 17th April. + +Yesterday morning, Good Friday, I rode from Eldena to Ludwigslust in +company with a gamekeeper well known in this section. Thence I walked to +Schwerin, the capital of the duchy, thence took stage to Gravismuehlen, and +lastly footed it again to Kluetz, accomplishing the journey of twenty-four +leagues between 3 A. M. and 9 P. M. Here I found the people as kindly +disposed as ever, and my trunk unmolested. My dear mother, who never rated +me as the wittiest if the most accomplished of her boys, may possibly feel +more hopeful upon learning by what _ruse de guerre_ I managed to traverse +the capital of Mecklenburg-Schwerin without a passport in such times as +these. In addition to the usual civil police, every gate of the city was +guarded by a military argus not likely to be caught napping. In Ludwigslust +I had read a proclamation offering a reward for every Frenchman captured +within the state. While resting on a milestone a short distance out of +Schwerin, and wiping the sweat of agony from my brow, I noticed the +establishment of a florist on the other side of the road. Thither I stepped +at once, and selecting a beautiful early rose in full bloom, I had it +potted for transportation. Then dusting off my boots and disarranging my +cravat, I placed the flower-pot in my cap, and taking this novel passport +upon my left arm, I abstractedly sallied forth toward the redoubtable gate. +Very much as I expected, all eyes were turned upon the beautiful early +flower, whose carrier passed unobserved. I felt so exultant over the +success of my stratagem that I had the audacity to call for half a bottle +of French wine, with bread and cheese, at the first inn I came to, and to +enjoy my treasonable meal right under the nose of a vociferous Prussian +_Kuerassier-hauptmann_ expounding the latest news from the seat of war to +what I took to be a knot of terrified civil functionaries. The drift of it +all was that the beak of the French eagle was once more turned to the East. +_Inde Irae._ + + +AT A COUNTRY-SEAT IN HOLSTEIN, Danish ground. + +My stay near Kluetz was of short duration, owing to another proclamation +from the ruler of this duchy, ordering the arrest of all straggling +Frenchmen, and their delivery to the nearest Russian or Prussian outpost, +under penalty of treason. My friends, whom I did not wish to expose any +longer, kindly recommended me to this place, where I have been very +hospitably received. How long this may last is, however, uncertain, as it +is feared Sweden may compel Denmark into an alliance against the French. + + +SCHWANENSEE, Mecklenburg, 29th May. + +I was driven from Danish soil by a false alarm in regard to Swedish +movements, and am the guest here of another old friend, Baron Haesseler, +with whom I was quartered three years ago. But this is Mecklenburg again, +and not safe either for me or my generous host. This Wandering-Jew sort of +a life is demoralizing me fast: I cannot hold out much longer. + + +CASTLE BUeLOW, at Gudow, Duchy of Lauenburg, 6th June. + +Thank Heaven! Mecklenburg is once more behind me. This is still the enemy's +country, but its little sovereign has not yet issued any proclamation +thirsting for French blood. After leaving my Danish retreat I spent a few +weeks at Kluetz under the tile-roof of a henhouse, where I was nearly crazed +by the heat and confinement. Dropping crumbs to a family of friendly mice +who have not heard of the proclamation was my only pastime. At Schwanensee +I made the acquaintance of the Landmarschallin von Buelow, a noble and +accomplished lady, who managed to convey me to this manor, her place of +residence. She is one of the few in the land who has not yet learned to +hate us Frenchmen "as we deserve." She is the mother of two sons, the elder +of whom, like all young men of his class, is in the field against us. To +the younger, a bright lad of sixteen, I was introduced this morning as his +preceptor, Mr. Fr. J. Dierks, a native of Freiburg, Baden. This is my +identity for all who may know me here. The lord of this manor, who, for +reasons of public business, resides at Ratzeburg, a few miles from here, +knows me in no other capacity. He seems to think much of me, and placed a +horse and his hunting-ground at my disposal. Even my trunk was sent after +me here through the kindness of the countess. But in the midst of all this +comfort, right from the Kluetzer henhouse, I feel restless and unhappy. My +place is not here. Had I remained on the Danish side I could now, as things +have turned out, pass through Holstein to Hamburg, which is again in +possession of Davoust's corps. I may accomplish it yet. + + +GUDOW, 7th July. + +I hope soon to be able to forward you my letters, which I have just now +finished transcribing from the cipher. Since the middle of last month there +reigns some sort of a truce, but up to date I have tried in vain to get off +my mail or to slip through the outposts in person. The Cossacks are +swarming through this section, and have doubled all the picket-lines. It is +part of my duty here to furnish supplies to those stationed within the +Landmarschall's domain; and though, in that capacity, I am on the best of +terms with our protectors, they have shown no disposition yet to help me +across the Stekenitz, a muddy stream which forms the neutral line between +the hostile armies. Think of it, my dear parents, only a few miles off I +should find the French flag, French uniforms, comrades, friends, almost +home once more! It is very trying to hold up my head under a false role and +to sign my false name daily to a dozen papers. If detected now, so near the +lines, no power on earth could save me from the death of a spy, and it is +very difficult for me sometimes not to look upon myself as a deserter. + + +July 10th. + +From the countess I learned to-day that the crown-prince of Sweden +(ex-Marshal Bernadotte), commanding the invading army, having learned that +a French officer or spy was concealed on Baron Haesseler's domain, quartered +upon him a squad of hussars, who are making diligent search for me. They +may find my trail to this place at any hour. I am on the wing this moment. + + +STOWE, a country-seat near Ratzeburg, 1st August. + +If ever I was in a tight place, it is now. General Tettenborn, a Badener by +birth, commanding the Russian forces posted five miles from Gudow, wishes +to make the personal acquaintance of his countryman, Mr. Dierks. The +Swedish hussars have furnished him my description, and the protege of the +countess von Buelow is suspected to be no other than the mysterious guest of +Baron Haesseler. My disguise and concealment here at the house of a most +generous friend has successfully baffled detection so far, but the old +Landmarschall having joined in the pursuit of me to vindicate his own +loyalty, I am not safe here any longer. My devoted host has just devised a +plan for my conveyance to Kluetz, whence I must absolutely try to reach +Holstein and Hamburg without delay. + + +KLUeTZ, 6th August. + +The night of the 2d-3d inst. saw me safely landed here. The place is full +of Swedish troops, and several officers are quartered in the house of which +my hen-coop is a dependancy. I have but little paper left to write for +pastime, but my faithful mice have not forgotten me. Very unlike many human +beings, they are gratefully looking up toward the source of their daily +bread, and even standing on their hind legs against the wall, as if anxious +to pay me a visit. + + +9th August. + +No change yet in the situation within or without. If I could hope that +Davoust's corps would push across the Elbe at once and drive the Swedes, +Russians and Prussians to where they belong, I would remain here and await +his coming. But that is still uncertain, and my position is becoming +untenable. I have wished a thousand times I had never left my brothers. +Their fate is enviable compared to mine. To-night I shall get a reply to a +proposition I made for my transfer to Holstein by water. I have ample funds +to accomplish it if all else is favorable. The French advance has reached +Lubeck. + + +LUBECK, 12th August. + +Heaven be praised, dearest parents! I am free and once more among my own! + +In the night of the 10th-11th my plans culminated at last in my conveyance +in a fisherman's boat across the south-west corner of the Baltic to +Neustadt, in Danish Holstein, whence I proceeded to this city as fast as +the best horse within reach could carry me. I must forbear, from want of +time, giving you to-day the particulars of this dangerous and providential +escape, which would appear to you almost incredible. I cannot but attribute +the special protection of a kind Providence to a recognition of such of my +qualities of heart as you, my dear parents, have so religiously cultivated +in your children, and which nine years' absence from home and the varied +experiences of a cruel and relentless war have never yet obliterated. I +believe I have always striven to be faithful to my duty, kind and just to +my inferiors and humane to our enemies. It is this consciousness that ever +sustained my hope in the darkest hour of peril. It told me that I was too +good to die ignominiously at the end of a Mecklenburger pitchfork or hempen +rope. Again, thanks and praise to Whom they are due! + + +LUeNEBURG, 25th August. + +I lost no time in reporting to head-quarters at Lubeck, and was at once +ordered here, where I found again united all of our command who fought +their way out of this place on the day of my capture. Of our poor +prisoners, only one, Sautier, a corporal of artillery, seems to have made +his escape. This occurred at Colberg, Prussia, on the Baltic, where our +boys were embarked for Russia, Riga being their port of destination. At +that time both Frank and Louis enjoyed remarkably good health, and, summer +approaching, Russia had lost much of its terror in their minds. The trip by +land was performed in short marches and without any unusual hardships. Long +before they reached Berlin their escort was replaced by another of +exclusively Don Cossacks. Sautier reached Denmark by water from Wismar, +where he had travelled in various disguises, principally following the +coast. My own escape was not discovered by Captain Cibulsky until next day. +It appears that the old Bashkir, on returning my captain and sub-lieutenant +to the caravan after dinner, made no report concerning the missing +lieutenant, and when the roll-call betrayed my absence next morning the +clannish Bashkirs played so adroitly into each other's hands that the +commander could not determine whom to hold accountable for the offence, +and, after notifying the civil authorities to keep a lookout for me, +resumed his march. After that accident, however, the captive officers were +not permitted to leave camp for any purpose except under escort equal to +their own number--one Cossack one prisoner, one Cossack one prisoner, and +so on--which would not leave room for miscounts. I heartily rejoice over +the impunity of my old friend of the doorsill, and only regret now not +having had the presence of mind to tie a napoleon d'or into that +treacherous knot in his bridle. But, _qui sait?_ we may meet again! + + +27th August. + +Yesterday I received my full pay in arrears, and am again blazing forth in +complete regimentals after a _bourgeois_ neglige of nearly five months. +To-day, when taking my first official round through the town, I suddenly +found myself face to face with the journeyman baker who had undertaken to +put a stop to my earthly career on the fatal 2d of April. He turned pale as +death, and seemed riveted to the ground. Taking hold of his chin, I asked +him whether he would think it strange to be sent before a court-martial and +shot before next sunrise. The cowardly bully looked so contrite and +chapfallen that I pitied him, and the fear that he might be dealt with just +as he deserved caused me to dismiss him with an impressive admonition, of +which the bystanders of his class may have taken to heart their respective +shares. Before night the magnanimity of the French officer was the gossip +of the town. + +I almost forgot to mention that I have also recovered my horse, which had +been appropriated by a civil functionary and smuggled into the country +upon the return of our forces. Although I shall not be reassigned to the +coast-guard service, I am permitted to retain the animal at my own expense. +We learn to-day that Marshal Davoust is advancing rapidly through +Mecklenburg, and has already issued a proclamation from Schwerin, where +roses count for passports. In a very few days we shall be sufficiently +reorganized to follow. Every step will bring me nearer to my brothers. God +bless you all, my dear parents and sisters! These leaves at last will be +wafted homeward to-day. More in a few days from our eastward line of +march. + +NOTE.--Lieutenant Diss Debar served in the corps of Davoust until the +departure of Napoleon for Elba. The second invasion found him promoted to a +captaincy, and engaged in the defence of Neu Breisach, which closed his +military career. After the restoration of the Bourbons the influence of his +father's Legitimist friends procured for him a comfortable position in the +administration of "Waters and Forests," which he retained through all the +political changes up to within a few years of his death, in 1864, in the +eighty-fifth year of his age. His brother Frank was exchanged in 1815, and +returned to France, but "poor little Louis" was not destined to the same +good fortune. He died at Riga in January, 1814, from amputation of his +frozen feet, the result of barbarous exposure. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[B] The writer of these letters, Joseph Diss Debar, served with the corps +of Marshal Davonst. Before the French Revolution his father had filled the +office of intendant of domains of the prince-cardinal de Rohan-Guemenee, of +royal necklace memory, then residing on his estates at Saverne, Alsace, in +the diocese of Strassburg, of which he was the beneficiary. Soon after the +capture of the Bastille the revolutionary movement spread to this locality, +and destroyed, imprisoned or drove into exile all the avowed adherents of +the royal cause, including the cardinal and his friends. The greater part +of the Saverne refugees gathered at Ettenheim in Baden, only one league +from the Rhine, where a large stipend, allowed to the cardinal by the +British government, enabled him to keep his friends and followers above +want until they could find other means of support. Thirteen years later +Ettenheim also attracted the unfortunate duc d'Enghien, who in March, 1804, +was kidnapped by orders of Bonaparte and shot in the ditch at Vincennes. +The terror inspired by this high-handed _coup d'etat_, which destroyed the +_emigres'_ safety upon neutral soil, caused many of the younger generation +of exiles to return to their native country and to enter the army, the +military career being the only one open to them. Among these were the +writer and his two brothers, the oldest being then twenty-four and the +youngest seventeen years of age. + + + + +A PORTRAIT. + + +Every day I passed there in going between the room where I lodge and my +business. It was an old shop, full of trash, ambitious of being a +bric-a-brac establishment, but its contents had neither beauty nor pedigree +to recommend them, only age and cheapness. Its doorsill lay even with the +pavement, inviting custom by an easy access, while repelling it by its +squalor. The light entered hesitatingly through a cobwebbed window, as if +loath to touch the unsightly objects within. Of these, some few had strayed +through the door and stood in blinking confusion on the sidewalk--chairs +with three legs, desks with no shelves, sofas without seats, clocks +eternally silent, and ornaments maimed, cracked, and seamed with glue. + +It was in this company I first saw him. He had dark eyes with heavy lids, +that gave a pathetic look to his face, and one eyebrow was slightly pointed +near its termination on the temple, while the other was straight--an +irregularity often found in persons of erratic temperament. His nose, +sensitive and refined, was in beautiful proportion to the face: his full +lips and square chin were partly concealed by a curling brown beard and +moustache, and the hair, which met a forehead rather broad than high, was +of the same color. Perhaps I should have mentioned that _he_ was a +portrait. + +How had he arrived among his present surroundings, standing on the dirty +street, smeared with mud that passing feet cast in his face, splashed by +rain, and torn from contact with the edges of chairs or the careless canes +of pedestrians--even showing the print of a boot-heel impressed on one +cheek? At times he disappeared for days together, as if lost in the maze +within: then again I would see his tragic eyes gazing at me through a +pelting storm or his skin blistering under a blinding sun. Was it any +wonder that I sought to save him from his capricious fate--that I pitied +him, that I bought him? + +I took the opportunity of doing so when the owner of the shop, whom I +respectfully christened Sticks, was absent, and was thereby enabled to +purchase the portrait from a shock-headed boy in charge for the modest sum +of two francs. + +My acquisition gave me much pleasure, but, unfortunately, it immediately +became the subject of an altercation between my two selves. I must here +say that my inner and outer self seldom agree, the latter being a +practical man and a clerk in a retail lace business, while the former is an +idealist who despises the other's employment and ridicules his opinions, +frequently bewailing the lot that links him to a clod without aspirations. + +It was to settle this dispute that I resolved, if possible, to discover +some facts about the portrait's history, and for this purpose I stopped at +the shop next morning, fortunately finding the shock-headed boy alone. Old +Sticks would not have _given_ even an answer, his business being buying and +selling. + +"Where did you get that picture I bought of you yesterday?" I began. + +"Think it's an old master?" he asked with a wink. + +"Will you answer my question, you blockhead?" I said, threatening him with +my stick. + +"I brought it from No. 42 Rue Notre Dame de Lorette," he whimpered, +avoiding the cane as if it recalled disagreeable memories. + +"To whom did it belong?" + +"I don't know." + +"Speak out, my man, and you shall have this for your reward." The proffered +half-franc made him voluble. + +"I was sent for it to No. 42. The concierge gave it to me. He had it +carefully wrapped up: that made me laugh when I saw it opened." + +"How long ago did this happen?" + +"About six months. Where do _you_ live?" + +"What is that to you, my young friend?" + +"You had better not pass here often: the old man is furious that I sold the +picture--asked me all about how you looked, and if you ever passed the +shop. I told him I never saw you before, and that you had black hair and +squinted." + +"Why did you say that?" + +"I owe him one. He beat me last night, and went off this morning without +giving me a bite to eat. Last thing he said was, 'You are sure he squints?' +I said, 'Yes, sure.'" + +Then, as I gave him the silver, the boy said, "Just mind the shop a moment, +while I run and get something to eat;" and off he went, leaving me in +charge. + +"What are you going to do about it?" asked my inner self ironically. + +"I am going to No. 42;" and without awaiting the boy's return I set out. + +A few minutes brought me to the street. I passed No. 42 in review from the +opposite side of the way, thinking I might get some idea of its occupants +from the exterior. The house, wedged in by similar houses, possessed no +particular physiognomy. I gazed at each window in turn, and finally +crossing the street asked the concierge, "What is the name of the artist +living in this house?" + +"Only respectable people live here," he answered in a surly tone. + +"When did he leave?" I went on, determined not to notice his rudeness. + +"There has never been one here since I came." + +"How long have you been here?" + +"I can't remember." + +"But you can remember a picture that you sold to a furniture-dealer in the +Rue St. Lazare about six months ago." + +"No I can't. I never sold one." + +"His boy told me he got it from you." + +"He is mistaken: I never sold one." + +"Perhaps it merely passed through your hands. No harm will come to you if +you tell me what you know about it." + +"I know nothing," he exclaimed angrily, and began to pick up some scraps on +the floor, so that I could not see his face. + +Evidently suspecting there was something wrong, and that he might be held +accountable, the man was prepared to deny everything, and my time being +limited I left. As I did so I saw a plainly-dressed individual approach +him, and on once looking back I thought from their gestures they were +speaking of me. Of course my inner self exclaimed, "Absurd!" + +For two days after I was confined to my room by a slight illness, but on +the third, as I neared the furniture-shop, I noticed Sticks disconsolately +seated in what might be called his best chair, seeing that the cover, +though faded, was whole, and it lacked but one arm. This total disregard +for the sanctity of his wares struck me as ominous, but confident, from the +boy's description of me, that I should not be recognized, I went boldly +forward. What was my astonishment to see him as I passed start from his +seat and exclaim, "Is it you?" + +"The boy has betrayed us," said I to my inner self. + +"Perhaps he was bribed by another half-franc," replied he, as if sneering +at my liberality. + +"Let us see what old Sticks will do," I remarked in order to change the +subject. + +Thereupon we stopped before the excited man, who was trying vainly to calm +himself while he asked nervously, "Can I show monsieur something? Something +cheap, _cheap_--a bargain, artistic, grand, beautiful." + +"Not this morning, thanks." + +"Ah, this is not kind. Enter a moment: the opportunity is there; do not +disappoint it." + +He stood before me, and laying one knotty hand on my sleeve gently pushed +me over the threshold, while he murmured, "A bargain, beautiful, cheap." +Mephistopheles could not have looked more persuasive as, pointing his other +hand--which matched his wares by the loss of a finger--to a worm-eaten +cabinet, he leered at me with the only eye he had left. + +"I could not carry it," I said with a shrug. + +"I will send the article," he answered, eagerly pulling a soiled bit of +paper and the end of a pencil from his pocket. "What is monsieur's +address?" + +"He is anxious to know where I live: that is evident," said I to my usual +confidant as I moved on and stopped before a table which had once been +inlaid, but which now presented the appearance of a painted beauty whose +rouge has dropped off. + +"Monsieur's choice is wise," said the merchant, following me. "Real Louis +Quatorze: and besides its beauty it has a secret drawer to recommend it. +That, however, I can only show you in the privacy of your own apartment." + +"I think he wants to steal the portrait," I remarked to the invisible +presence accompanying me. Then I asked the dealer, watching him closely the +while, "Have you any pictures to sell?" + +Sticks coughed nervously, looked about him, and walked the whole length of +his shop, dusting the things with his red cap, before he spoke. He must +have been much preoccupied thus rashly to destroy the venerable appearance +of his stock. Then he said, "Perhaps _you_ might have one you would sell?" + +"I suppose you mean the one I bought of you. Why do you want it? In what +does its value lie? What is the secret connected with it?" + +The old man could not repress an involuntary "Hush!" Then recovering +himself, he asked, "Will you sell it? I offer double what you gave." + +I shook my head negatively. + +"Name your price," he begged eagerly. + +I obstinately continued to shake my head. There must be some reason for his +wanting it back, and I resolved to find this out before I parted with it. +Thereupon my inner self ejaculated "Nonsense!" but the dealer's anxiety was +too evident, and his liberality too unusual, not to be suspicious. + +"I must bid you good-morning," I said, in order to bring the matter to a +crisis. + +"Stay a moment: I will explain, I will tell you all. A poor widow sold me +the picture: it was a portrait of the husband of her youth. Yesterday she +came to buy it back: she had saved the money for this purpose sou by sou. +Monsieur will not be cruel, and I promise to divide the profits equally +with him." + +"I can name my price?" I asked, stopping at the door. + +"Certainly, monsieur." + +"Tell the poor widow she had better spend her savings in buying a new +husband instead of an old portrait. You can mention me as a pretender." +With that I walked off, believing that I could come sooner to the truth by +feigning indifference. + +Several times during the day I imagined some one was watching me, and +returning home at night I was sure I was followed; which proved to be +true, as on reaching my door the shock-headed boy from the shop passed and +whispered, "Be careful! They are on your track;" then disappeared before I +could ask an explanation. + +"I wonder if Sticks meditates a night-attack, and has sent the boy to +reconnoitre?" said I to my confidential friend. + +"You had better bribe him to tell you," replied this ironical adviser. + +But nothing happened until morning, when a woman, the concierge of the +house I live in, knocked at the door and asked if it would be convenient +for me to pay my rent that day: it would oblige the proprietor. This was an +unusual request, the rent not being due for a week to come; but I counted +out the necessary sum, and handing it to her went on with my preparations +to go out. Still she remained, and when I turned to see what detained her, +I saw her eyes fixed on the portrait. + +"It is so like my son," she said, observing my regard. "Monsieur has not +had it long?" + +"No, a few days only." + +"My poor son was killed," she continued, wiping her eyes: "he was a mason +and fell from a scaffolding. If he had only been contented to be a +street-paver, as I begged him, he would never have fallen." + +"Blessed are the lowly-minded, for being already down they cannot fall!" +This voiceless remark I made to my other self as a warning. + +"It is such a broken-up portrait that monsieur cannot want it. I would like +to buy it for a little sum if monsieur would sell it. My poor son! That +hole in the forehead especially looks like Jean when I saw him last." Here +she covered her eyes. + +"How much did that one-eyed man give you to come and buy that portrait?" +asked I, guessing that this was an envoy of Sticks. + +"He?" she said, confused: "it was no _he_." Then recovering herself: +"Monsieur is mistaken if he thinks I would take a bribe;" after which the +lady withdrew. + +"Was not my question well thought of?" asked I of my other self in triumph. + +"I think you are becoming a monomaniac," was his complimentary reply. + +The day passed uneventfully, although I still had a suspicion that I was +watched, but I had no means of making it a certainty. When I returned home +my first look was toward the portrait. It was still safe. + +At that moment there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and found there +my washerwoman, or I should say my washerwoman's substitute, one whom I had +never before seen. She was a bright, talkative little thing, a pearl of +soapsuds, and said glibly that my usual attendant was ill, and she had come +instead. I told her I was glad she had. + +While putting down her basket her brown eyes took in the whole of my room, +and she remarked with a shiver, "What a sad home you live in!--gloomy, ugly +little chamber." + +"Does your young man have a better one, my dear?" + +"You are not my confessor," she answered saucily. + +"I wish I were." + +"Let me be yours." + +"No objections." + +"Who is the _joli garcon_ you condemn to share with you this gloomy +apartment?" She pointed to the portrait. + +"A dear friend of mine." + +"He looks as if he drank absinthe, and had broken his head on the pavement; +nevertheless, I like him. Bring him to see me." + +"Willingly: when shall we call?" + +"As soon as possible: meanwhile I will carry this with me." She lightly +jumped on a chair, took my portrait and retreated with it to the door, +saying, "Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, No. 42, to-morrow." + +"Not so fast, please," said I, taking the canvas from her hand. + +"Stingy fellow! you might let me have it. He would be so much surprised +when you brought him _chez moi_ to see it hanging on the wall. Give it to +me;" and she held out her hand with a charming gesture. + +"No, no, my dear: you may come and see it here whenever you like, but here +it must remain." + +I turned and hung it on its accustomed nail: when I looked again she was +gone. Not even the sound of her foot on the stairs nor a moving shadow on +the steps when I looked over the balustrade. + +"Either the world is going mad, or I am," I exclaimed. + +"You need not be in doubt which." + +"Any one would think it odd. Could she be the forlorn widow in search of +the portrait of the husband of her youth?" + +"No." + +"Does old Sticks look as if he could play a practical joke?" + +"No." + +"Or my concierge?" + +"No." + +"Or my washerwoman?" + +"No." + +"And this radiant little bubble of soapsuds who was just here, what do you +think of her?" + +But my other self, having nothing more to say, was sensible enough to keep +silent, and we slept. + +In dreams the pretty washerwoman and the portrait became mixed +inextricably. I believed she looked like the portrait--that she was the +portrait; and when I awoke in the morning and saw the melancholy eyes +hanging opposite my bed, I could not help exclaiming, "Pardi! she does look +like him! It is true her eyes are brighter and her dimpled chin rounder; +otherwise the faces are the same. And did she not invite me to the house +from which the portrait had been brought? I must see her again--the sooner +the better." With this I arose and hurriedly dressed, my other self +protesting against my resolution the while; but as the physical power is +all on my side, he was obliged to accompany me. + +We went to No. 42 Notre Dame de Lorette, and were met by the same +disagreeable concierge that we had seen before. To my questions he answered +that no washerwoman lived in the house, and when I insisted he exclaimed +pathetically, "For Heaven's sake go away! I have a wife and six children." + +I was so impressed by this startling information that I ejaculated, "What a +philanthropist!" whilst my inner self, who luckily has not the gift of +speech, said, "What a fool!" Then I remembered that asking after a +washerwoman in Paris without knowing her name was rather quixotic, and I +went my way. + +During the day I still had the disagreeable sensation of being watched. Men +appeared to be noticing me from alleys, street-corners and windows, and +once I made a sale to an individual who I was sure observed me more than +the lace he was purchasing. When I passed the shop in the evening, Sticks +neither looked at me nor returned my salutation, and when I half stopped to +examine a new piece of dilapidation on the sidewalk he whispered abruptly, +"Move on, I beg of you: _your_ custom is not wanted here." + +Was it strange that a series of the wildest conjectures should fill my +mind? It was just before the Franco-German war, when the whole of Paris was +in a fever of excitement and every event seemed to predict a political +crisis. But in what manner could I, a simple lace-selling clerk, be +connected with it? This last reflection of course emanated from my +plain-talking self, who would rather believe the whole world mad than that +anything important should happen to me. I was "not made of the stuff that +distinction loves," he said, and begged me not to think that the eyes of +the Empire were upon me. + +As I entered the house I tried to question my concierge about the pretty +girl who had brought home my clothes, but found my efforts useless. The +woman said she knew nothing of my washerwoman, not even her name. I tried +by describing the girl to get a more definite answer. She intimated that +she would have little to do if she looked at every one going up or down the +stairs; then burst into tears, and begged me to leave her--that she was +dependent on her place for support; that her reputation was all she had; +and more to the same effect, which I avoided by making a precipitate +retreat. + +I rushed to my room and to my glass, eagerly scanning the reflection +therein to see if any change in my appearance within the last few days +could cause people thus to avoid me, suspect me, and treat me as if +contaminated. It was the same insignificant face I had known from +childhood, with what my other self called a "stupidly innocent expression." +I next thought of examining the portrait, taking it from the wall for this +purpose. It was certainly modern: the slightest acquaintance with art +settled this beyond doubt. (I must here acknowledge that my second self is +rather a cultivated man; his discrimination has often been praised by the +members of our firm; and it is owing to his delicate taste that I have been +sent several times to Belgium to make large purchases of lace for our +house; therefore I could rely on his judgment in this matter.) But might it +not conceal another? I held it between me and the light, and could see +through it, not only where there were holes, but everywhere between the +interstices of the thinly-painted, badly-made canvas. I turned the back: +there was nothing but the name of the seller stamped upon it: it was not +likely he would remember who had bought this particular article. There was +no frame, and I detached the cloth from the stretcher, that nothing might +escape me. Not the slightest clew--no bit of paper, message or token. I put +back the tacks, and was hanging my unsolved puzzle on the wall when I heard +a knock at the door. + +This time it was my _bona-fide_ washerwoman, who came for the soiled +clothes the other in her hasty retreat had forgotten, and as she gathered +them together I carelessly asked after the fair unknown. + +"She is my niece," was the reply. + +"Does she live with you?" + +"No: she lives in the country." + +"Where?" + +"I don't know." + +"What is her name?" + +"I don't know." + +By this time the dame ended her task by tying the clothes in a bundle, and +seemed in haste to be off. + +"Is it not rather strange that you should know neither your niece's name +nor where she lives?" + +"I don't care," she said, defiantly resting a hand on either hip: "I will +have nothing more to do with it." Here the bundle at her feet received a +kick which sent it spinning over the floor, and she would have left the +room had I not stood in her way. + +"Why did you begin it?" I asked quickly, seeing here a chance of solving +the mystery. + +"She would take no refusal; and besides, she gave me twenty francs." + +"What for?" + +"Merely to allow her to carry home your wash. I hope you found nothing +missing?" + +"Nothing. But listen: I will give you another twenty francs if you tell me +all you know about her." + +"Make it thirty," she said eagerly. + +"It shall be thirty." + +"The young girl--" + +"The brown-eyed one who brought my wash?" + +"Yes. She came to my house on Friday last. Madame Trois, your concierge, +had given her my address. The girl said she must see you in your room, and +must have an excuse for going there--all for a bit of fun. But Madame Trois +told me to-day that it was a picture she wanted, for she gave her fifty +francs the day before for trying to get it, and promised her as much more +as it might cost if you should consent to sell it. When Madame Trois +failed, the girl asked what other woman went to your room, and she sent her +to me." + +"Then she is no niece of yours?" + +"If I had a niece she would not be running about alone in that way; but the +girl said if you should question me I must tell you she is my niece, and +give her any name I pleased. As if I did not have enough trouble naming my +own children without puzzling over one for her! especially when she gave me +but twenty francs, and Madame Trois throwing it in my teeth that she got +fifty! I am even with her now;" and she held out her hand for the money +with the pose of a malignant Victory. + +"Is that all?" + +"All about her, but Madame Trois says there is something wrong, for the +house is watched by the police." + +"Police!" + +"Yes. Madame Trois is up to their tricks. Her husband that is dead was a +policeman, and she says those that don't dress in uniform are the worst." + +"Madame Trois says a great deal; for instance, she told me she knew nothing +about the girl, nor of you either, not even your name," I remarked. + +"_She_ was paid enough not to tell; besides, she is dreadfully afraid of +the police; and no wonder. Such a dance as her husband led her! though I +must say she deserved it. We have been friends for years." + +I saw there was nothing more to gain, so I paid the woman and dismissed +her, while my two selves both talked at once, making a distracting duet +that nearly set me wild. + +Here was confirmation of my worst fears. I was under suspicion, for what +cause I knew not, but the picture must be in some way connected with it. +Had the portrait been stolen, and did its possession implicate me in the +theft? Yet who would care to recover so worthless a thing? Should I destroy +it and thus end the ravel? No, if innocent why should I fear? and was not +this the only connecting link between me and the brown-eyed girl who +strangely resembled it? + +"Come what will, the picture shall be preserved," I exclaimed finally. + +Nevertheless, my night was restless, and the day following it more so. I +went about my business distraught, mixing the distinctions between Alencon +and Chantilly, and not having even the poor satisfaction of quarrelling +with my confidant, who now kept up a moody silence. I was glad when evening +came that I might be free to think, but evening brought a new complication. + +On entering the Rue St. Lazare, I saw a person who in the shadow of a +porte-cochere appeared to await me. As I passed him he leaned forward and +placed in my hand a packet wrapped and rewrapped with twine, whispering, +"For the cause." Then I recognized the shock-headed boy from the +furniture-shop. I was too much surprised at this to notice, as I should +otherwise have done, two men who at this moment seemed to start from the +darkness and keep near me until I reached my door. There they seized me by +the arms, and before I could think of resistance had placed me in a cab +standing in readiness. + +We drove very quietly along the street until we stopped at what I found to +be the police head-quarters. I omitted to say that one of my captors had +grasped my hand holding the packet when he first seized me. This man never +relaxed his grasp during our ride, nor while descending from the cab, nor +while we threaded a long corridor leading to an antechamber; and when we +finally stood before a person who appeared to be high in authority he still +retained my hand. Thus I had no chance of getting rid of what I feared +might be my ruin. + +"Confront the prisoner," ordered the high personage briefly. + +"I am here," replied one of my captors, whom I now recognized as the same +individual to whom I had sold lace two days before. + +"What is your charge?" + +"This man is suspected of being connected with a secret society the +principles of which are inimical to the Empire." + +"Have you any proofs?" + +"I saw him receive a secret communication to-night: it is here." With this +he raised my hand. + +"Stand forward." + +I moved toward the light, while the officer unclosed my fingers, to which I +offered no resistance. There lay the packet enclosed with its many cords. + +"What does it contain?" asked the great man. + +"I have not ventured to touch it," answered he at my right obsequiously. + +"Cut the cords." + +This was done amid profound silence: my anxiety may be imagined as I +awaited the result. There was as much wrapping-paper as string, and when +the last fold had been carefully undone it revealed--two large sous. I +breathed more freely. + +There was a pause of blank amazement on the part of the officials, a +whispered conference, and the paper was held to the light, heated by the +fire, and examined with a glass, without result. The sous were handled in +the same manner, and finally their date and description were written in a +book; after which came an order in the same quiet tone that had been used +before: "Search the prisoner." + +In five minutes more all the clothing upon me had been cut into shreds and +minutely examined: even my hat did not escape, and my watch was opened. Of +course nothing was found, but that did not alter the fact that my best suit +of clothes was a heap of ruins. My pocket-book was turned inside out, and +my passport, that I always carry with me, it being often necessary to start +on my employers' business at a moment's notice, received a great deal of +attention. At last other clothes nearly identical with those I had lost +were handed me, and when I donned them I was given a hat; my pocket-book, +passport and watch were returned; and the conductor of ceremonies begged my +pardon for the slight (he called it _slight_) trouble he had occasioned me, +said he found the suspicions of my accuser unfounded, and ordered him to +"conduct the gentleman to his residence;" which was accordingly done. + +When there, I could neither read nor sleep, and to escape the tormenting +round of questions and answers that brought no solution to the mystery +surrounding me, I resolved to spend the evening at the theatre. I went to +the Francais. It was useless: the dialogue unremittingly kept up between my +two selves prevented my hearing that on the stage. + +My eyes were wandering in dreamy abstraction over the mass of faces partly +turned toward me during the entr'acte, when I was suddenly roused to full +consciousness by recognizing in one of them the features of my portrait. +The man was regarding me as if waiting to catch my eye: when he saw by my +start of surprise that he had succeeded, he made a movement with his lips +and turned away. In a moment he was lost in the crowd. + +My inner self, who always doubts the evidence of the senses, suggested that +it was a mistake. "Would this person, even were he the original of the +portrait, know you or make you a sign?" said he, adding thereto other +arguments, which, though I emphatically disbelieved, I was too agitated to +contradict. + +I tried to remain during the second act, hoping to verify my first +impression, but after twisting my neck in order to look behind, and +straining my eyes in front, receiving angry glances and "'Sh! 'sh!" from my +neighbors, annoyed by these movements, I concluded to leave. + +Close to the Fountain Moliere I thought I heard footsteps following me: +there was one pair besides my own in the street. I listened to them for +some time, and finally they seemed to regulate themselves with mine. + +"'Tis the police!" I confided to my other self. + +"Always fearful," was his reply. + +"You can be very cool: _you_ have no neck in danger." + +"I am happy to say _my_ ideas need not be influenced by such paltry +considerations. In fact, you are a coward!" + +"You are a fool!" I returned. + +At this desperate juncture the quarrel fortunately ended by its object +coming nearer and in a deep musical voice saying, "Good-evening, friend." + +"Good-evening," I answered gruffly. + +"You don't appear to know me." + +He took a shabby cap from his head and turned his face: a chill ran through +me when in the dim street-light I recognized my portrait, moving, speaking, +living. A black patch above the brow made me wonder if the wound it +concealed passed through the head, as did that in the picture, and his eyes +were more brilliant and eager than the painted ones, with their pathetic +look changed to one of defiance, as if a devil had taken possession of +those beautiful features. For a moment superstition kept me silent, then I +said briefly, "I don't know you." + +"Allow me to introduce myself--Favart the International. You are delighted +to make my acquaintance, no doubt. Calm your transports: time does not +admit of them. We start for Belgium to-night." + +"Who start?" I asked, now thinking the man a maniac. + +"I, you, all of us." + +"I am none of you." + +"But you are suspected of being, which is worse, much worse. Hold! I will +sketch your position accurately. Let us enter this cabaret: it is kept by +one of us." I followed him mechanically, and when we were seated in a dark +corner, with some wine he called for before us, he continued: "I divide the +sketch into three heads, historical, personal and political. There is a +theory called Socialism--a people called Socialists, or Chartists, or +Communists: they have different names in different countries. You may have +heard of them in the past: you shall hear more of them in the future. They +have a good organization and magnificent sympathies." + +"But you called yourself an International." + +"Just so. Socialism is the idea, Internationalism is its result. And now +the historic is mingled with the personal. This society was lately +meditating a _coup:_ it was necessary to have meetings, and we had to +devise a signal for rallying. I submitted one to the committee, which was +unanimously adopted as simple yet efficient. My portrait--I was not then +sufficiently known to make it suspicious--was to stand outside the door of +the shop where you found it on the days when a meeting would be held. The +old furniture-dealer is one of us: so is the concierge of No. 42 Notre Dame +de Lorette. About a week ago the former came to me in distress, saying the +portrait had been sold in his absence: he did not even know to whom. I told +him it must be recovered at all hazards, as it would cause great +inconvenience and loss of time to fix on another signal. The next day you +were supposed to have it through the inquiries you made at No. 42, where +you frightened the concierge nearly out of his wits, he taking you for a +spy. He immediately informed his friend the furniture-dealer that the +police were on our track, and when told of the sale of the picture said you +must have it. However, they did not dare bring mere conjectures to me: they +watched and waited. On the third day after you passed the shop: the dealer +knew you through the concierge's description, inveigled you in, and easily +obtained the information he wanted about the picture, but failed to gain +possession of it. Then Sidonia took the matter in hand--Sidonia always +helps us out of a difficulty--but her attempts also failed, though she +discovered not only that you were no spy, but that you were yourself under +suspicion. The police were following us closely: they had found out the use +we made of the portrait, which rendered its recovery profitless to us. I +resolved to drop both you and it. Shortly after I perceived that it would +be necessary for us to leave the city, and you being implicated, Sidonia +insisted on my warning you before we went, though, as you do not belong to +us, I could see no use in it." + +"So, then, it was not the dealer's boy who informed on me?" + +"No: he gave a description calculated to mislead. I believe he has by +listening gained some half truths, and thinks _you_ are an International: +it was for that cause he gave you the packet which brought you into trouble +this evening. Ha! ha! ha!" + +"How do you know I have been in trouble?" + +"Through one of our spies in the police service: he was present at your +examination, and was detailed to watch you to-night. He told me of your +being at the theatre; hence my opportunity of speaking to you. I can say no +more: the political part of my sketch you have had a specimen of at the +police-station to-night; if you stay you are likely to see more. Believe +me, they only liberated you so politely in order, by watching you, to find +your companions. To-morrow, after we are gone, there will be discoveries +made through this same agent of ours in their employ. As they are already +on our track, we take this method to gain their confidence for our man. If +you fancy another examination by the police, remain." + +"But I am innocent!" + +"Unfortunately, you are. You know absolutely nothing with which to buy your +liberty. What I have told you will be of no service: it will be already +theirs. If you wish to go to Belgium ask at No. 33 Rue Lafitte for a +travelling suit: you will receive one like mine." + +He looked down at his heavy shoes, soiled overalls and tattered blouse, +then touching the latter with his fingers, continued: "I use it now for a +disguise, but the day will come when this blouse will be our standard--the +laborer shall possess the earth. He who works shall live, and idleness, +with the riches that foster it, will end. Necessities shall be plenty and +luxuries unattainable. Palaces shall fall to give material for poor men's +dwellings; monuments that glorify one man at the expense of his brothers +must disappear; and churches, promises of another world, can no longer +trick us out of our share, our birthright, in this. Paris will arise a new +and better Sparta. Sparta, great mother of communes! I salute you! +Leonidas! Favart aspires to eclipse your glory! Not for one nation does he +labor, but for humanity--for the workers of the world, whose rightful dues +are filched from them by the drones. Nature resents this wrong: the drones +must die." + +He had risen as he pronounced these words, low but rapidly: a moment he +stood before me, his face glowing, his hand clenched, then his expression +rapidly changed, and he said briefly, "It is a time for action, not for +words. Good-night!" + +A conflagration, an electric spark, was this shabby man, and I could easily +believe what I afterward heard of his influence with the people. + +He left me with my mind more perplexed than ever. What had been the _coup_ +these people were meditating, in which I, in the eyes of the police, was +implicated? Murder? Treason? Arson? Nothing was beyond them with their +magnificent sympathies. Perhaps this might be my only chance of escape; +yet in doing so did I not cast my lot with theirs? should I not make myself +doubly suspected? Embarrassing questions, to which neither self was ready +with an answer. There was the prospect, too, of losing my situation if I +remained long away, but in opposition to this practical consideration was +the remembrance of my air-bath and the doubt about my future if I remained. +In this chaos of thought can you guess what decided me? It was Favart's +words: "We are all going." Did not _we_ include her whom he called Sidonia, +who had visited my room and had insisted I should be warned? Yes. + +Not in disguise: I was in no humor to complicate the situation. Having my +passport in my pocket, and knowing the policeman who was watching me would +not prevent my flight, I simply walked to the station and took a +first-class ticket to Brussels. First class, for I knew the man in the +blouse must travel third, and I was anxious to be as far from him as +possible. + +I reached the frontier in safety. My examination ended, the officer turned +to my only travelling companion, a lady who up to this time appeared to +have been sleeping. As he threw the light of his lantern into her face I +also looked at her. Good Heavens! could I be mistaken? The hair, it is +true, was blond, and the dress a robe of deep mourning, but the eyes were +the eyes of my portrait, the eyes of Favart, the eyes of my pretty +washerwoman--Sidonia! The ordeal passed, the door shut, the train moved on. + +"Have I your permission to speak, mademoiselle?" I asked in an agitated +voice. + +"If you wish, monsieur." She turned toward me a sad, tear-stained face that +well suited her mourning. + +"You are suffering: you have been weeping. Has anything occurred? Why this +dress?" + +"Nothing has occurred _yet_," she answered, trying to smile. "The danger +for my brother is over once more. This dress is simply a disguise. God +grant I may not soon be wearing it in token of sorrow!" + +"Is Favart your brother?" I asked eagerly. + +"Yes, my only one. I cannot bear to lose him. And you too have become +implicated: it seemed as if Fate led you on." + +I did not dare tell her how I felt that any fate was blessed that brought +me to know her, to see her again. The thrill I experienced at this +unexpected meeting revealed to me the strength of my feelings. + +"In a few days I think matters will be arranged so that you can return to +Paris," she went on, "but I thought it best for you to be absent at first. +I hope it will not put you to inconvenience. What do you do?" + +I told her my employment, not without wishing it was higher, but she said +sweetly, "I am glad you are a working-man: your hands are so white I feared +you were an idler." + +"You endorse your brother's principles, mademoiselle? You too are a +Socialist?" + +"I honor labor--any and all kinds of labor. They say they admire it, but do +they work? Ah no! Once my Charles was different. We come of laboring +people. Our father owned a few fields, which we cultivated ourselves. I +kept the dairy and assisted in harvest and at the vintage. Those were happy +days. The good cure taught us to read and write, and lent my brother books, +but Charles has forgotten his kindness. He was discontented even then, and +would throw stones at the park-wall that surrounded the chateau near our +property, and scowl at the little marquises as they passed us on horseback +when we were afoot." + +"How did you come to Paris?" I asked, seeing that in her present state of +excitement speaking relieved her. + +"Our parents died: my brother had a taste for painting, and wished to go to +Paris and study. Monsieur le cure had given him some lessons and was proud +of his talent: he counselled me to accompany Charles, and came with us to +get me a place in a shop and recommend Charles to an artist of his +acquaintance; and yet Charles says the cures are not our friends! The rent +of our fields, with what I received, supported us. We had two little rooms +and lived together, Charles and I. He made such rapid progress! The +portrait you bought he painted at my request in the evening, while I sewed +beside him. We were so happy. O mon Dieu! why could it not have lasted?" + +She covered her face with her hands and burst into tears, but only for a +moment: before I could think what to say to comfort her she was again +speaking: "I do not often weep, but this dress depresses me: it is +ill-omened." + +"Do not think so: you are tired, over-wrought, to-night. The danger is +past, and maybe you can persuade your brother to return to his art, and +happier days will come." + +"Impossible! When he first joined the society I tried in vain. Now he +belongs to it heart and soul. He has set an example of communism by selling +our land and giving the proceeds to the cause, and he now lives on +contributions, which he is not ashamed to take, because he believes that +what the earth produces is common to all, and he only receives his rightful +share." + +"But you also belong--is it not so?" + +"When I found he would not return I followed: we could not be separated." + +"And you share all his danger?" + +"All," she answered firmly. "Danger shared is lessened, you know. Where he +is, I am. But I wished to speak of your affairs. I forgot myself: sorrow is +selfish. You must write to your employers and give some explanation of your +absence: in a week at furthest I trust you will be able to return without +annoyance. I will see that information which will exculpate you is given to +the authorities. And, as far as my brother and myself are concerned, I know +from your face I can trust you." + +I would sooner have had my homely features at that moment than those of +Apollo. When I arrived in Brussels I wrote to my employers, as she +requested, but after excusing my sudden departure I begged them to +recommend me to some firm in that city, for I resolved not to leave until I +had offered Sidonia the protection of a husband. The answer to my letter +was most favorable. I had the pleasure of showing it to Sidonia and telling +her my plans, from which she tried to dissuade me with all the eloquence in +her power. + +"We are dangerous acquaintance, dangerous friends and dangerous enemies. +The sooner we fade from your life the better," she said; but I would not +listen. + +The happiest month of my life I spent in Brussels. I found employment: I +saw Sidonia every day, and if possible admired her hourly more. She had a +quick judgment, born of the experience she had gained through the part she +took in her brother's affairs. She knew whom to trust, and I am happy to +say she trusted me; but, though frank, I never again saw the manner she had +adopted when she came to my room: inclining naturally to be gay, she was +always dignified. Once I ventured to apologize for the way I had spoken to +her during that visit. + +"My behavior gave rise to it," she answered. "I was obliged to act a part. +But you gentlemen should have more respect for those poor girls whose daily +wants often expose them to insult." + +"After a man loves one good woman he learns to respect all women for her +sake. You have taught me that lesson." + +She taught me much more, my wise, my sensible Sidonia. With the example of +her busy hands and the advocacy of her sweet lips my second self was +brought to recognize the beauty and nobility of honest toil. Favart's life +afforded an illustration of how the most exalted opinions can lead a man +astray; and he humbly confessed that had my course been modelled according +to his views, I should not now be able to offer Sidonia a home, which he +heartily approved of my doing. I in turn acknowledged that I owed much in +the estimation of my darling to his cultivation. I saw that she respected +his acquirements, and that his longest conversations were agreeable to her; +while had I been left with only the merits of lace to expatiate upon I +should have failed to please. + +But with my love my fears for her increased. Favart was seldom at home--now +in England, now in Germany, now in Italy. What new scheme was he +meditating? what new danger was he recklessly preparing for his sister? +Tormented by misgivings, I resolved to make an effort to turn him from his +course, and, failing in that, to gain his consent to a speedy marriage +between me and Sidonia. Knowing his egotism, I approached him with a +compliment: "Sidonia tells me you are the painter of the portrait that +brought me into trouble: from its merit I should venture to predict great +things of your future." + +"Your prediction is likely to be fulfilled, but my fame will rest on +something more profitable to humanity than painting." + +"Do you never intend to paint again?" I ventured. + +"Never: my time is employed in nobler work." + +"Do you ever think of the danger you incur? do you ever count the suffering +to others you may cause in attaining your object?" + +"I think of success!" As he said these words the devil in his eyes flashed +a triumphant glance, and I noticed for the first time the change for the +worse that a few weeks had made in him. His face was haggard, his movements +were restless: a life of constant excitement was telling on mind and body. + +"And your sister?" + +"She is worthy of me. With a mind fertile in resources she has an undaunted +courage: we could not do without her. Twice she has saved my life, and once +her address turned away the police from a meeting where there would have +been at least twenty of our leading men arrested had they found us." + +"And you never think of the danger she is exposed to? You never realize +what an improper, what a cruel position it is in which to place a young and +beautiful girl--you who are her natural protector? Listen to me, I beseech +you: leave this life before it is too late; spare yourself, spare her; +return to the ambition that made you happy before this frenzy seized you. +I know now of some lace designs you could get to make: it would be a +beginning, and--" + +"Lace designs!" he interrupted, contemptuously. "He seeks to bind a man's +ambition with _lace_! he would stifle the breath of purpose with _lace_! he +would swaddle a sublime project in _lace_, until it is as weak as his own +courage, as petty as his own soul! The noble idea!" + +"I suppose it is nobler to live on contributions," I answered hotly. + +"I take but my own. Nature provides enough for all if we behave as children +of one parent and divide her bounty." + +"Live as you please, run what risks you like, but spare your sister." + +"That is, give her to you," he sneered. + +"Yes, give her to me. I love her: _my_ ambition will be to protect her. I +ask for none better. And surely if you are not utterly selfish, when in +peril you will be glad to know of her safety. Give her to me." + +"Never! never! never! I waste time in talking to you. Your understanding is +less even than I thought, but if Sidonia likes to have a tame cat about to +amuse her leisure, I have no objections. As for a marriage with you, +neither she nor I would think of it." So saying, with his usual abrupt +manner he left me. + +I made a passionate appeal to Sidonia. "Be my wife and leave the +Internationals," I said. "What is the use of your sacrificing yourself for +principles in which you do not believe? It is true, I can only offer you +safety and love." + +"Safety?" she repeated sadly. "Could it include my brother I would ask +Heaven for no other blessing." + +I begged, I pleaded, I argued, but to all she answered, "Who will save him +if I am absent?" + +I was obliged to wait and hope. + +Now came the war, when disaster followed disaster until the Germans had +completed the investment of Paris: then she begged me to go. + +"Your country needs you: join the army of the Loire and do what you can to +help it. You have been with us too long: already it would be difficult to +make people believe that you do not belong to us. But if you serve +suspicion will be averted. For my sake, go!" + +"For your sake I stay." + +"You are mistaken: if I need your protection you will be in a better +position to give it by going than by staying." + +"If you need my protection, will you let me give it?" + +"I will." + +"The protection of my name, the protection of a husband?" + +"Yes, the protection of a husband." + +It was an invention of her goodness, my darling! Knowing the monstrous plot +the Socialists were meditating, she wished me to be absent. And I went, +regretting only our present separation and fearing nothing for the future. + +I was defeated with Motterouge, and afterward fought with D'Aurelle and +Chanzy until hostilities ceased. On the third of March Paris was evacuated +by the Germans, and fifteen days after followed the revolt of the Commune. +Heaven only knows how I suffered during that time. I would have given my +life to know she was safe: I would have risked it by deserting could I have +hoped to find and protect her. But had she not said, "Where he is, I am"? +and would not Favart be in the thickest of the fight? Oh cruel necessity! +My best chance of meeting her was at the point of the bayonet with the +troops. + +Fort Valerien was taken: we entered Paris, and like a living web encircled +the insurgents. Step by step they retreated, step by step we followed: we +could not miss the way; ruin and blood marked their path. + +On the twenty-sixth of May but one barricade remained standing. I was in +the front rank when the order was given to charge on it, and amid smoke and +noise and the glare of burning buildings we obeyed. There I saw Favart: +almost face to face we met. His eyes the color of blood and starting from +his head, his nostrils distended, his face livid, his hair and moustache +bristling with rage, his hoarse voice shouting commands, he stood +indifferent to danger, fighting like a wild beast, furious as a madman. A +moment, and then, a bullet entering his forehead, he fell, and a woman's +shriek rang on the air. + +Oh for the strength of a thousand men! oh for wings! oh for power! Might my +whole life be contained in that moment could I but save her! Suddenly the +street, the barricade, the houses on either side, trembled, heaved and +leapt into the air. A tremendous explosion, with flame and debris, forced +what remained of us to retreat--forced also the poor remnant of our enemy +to surrender. A cordon was formed around the quarter, so that none escaped. +Wounded, blackened, bleeding, torn, they crawled by, and she was among +them, my darling, my angel--among those shameless women, those hardened +men! + +I could not save her, tried, convicted and sentenced at Versailles, my +beautiful, innocent Sidonia. I wrote letters; my perseverance gained me +admission to the highest authorities; I prayed, I wept, I pleaded, but the +name of Favart closed every avenue to pity. The most active, the most +cruel, the most merciless in the Commune, foremost in destruction, +indefatigable in barbarity, her brother, the shadow of her life, was the +cause of her death. + +I heard the sentence pronounced, "Transportation for life:" it did not seem +to move her. Wan, her once neat dress in disorder, a shadow of her former +self, she sat immovable. Once I met her eye, but she did not recognize me: +only when the wind accidentally blew back the torn sleeve from her white +arm I saw a moment's consciousness, and she blushed as she replaced it. +Haply, she was deaf to the cries of "Petroleuse!" and shouts of imprecation +that met her as she was taken through the crowd; but what fearful suffering +must that sensitive mind have endured before its faculties were thus +benumbed! + +I gained one slight concession: I was permitted to write one letter to her +before she was sent away. I begged her not to lose hope that after the +first excitement was over I might gain for her a commutation of the +sentence--to have courage and trust me. I received no answer. I do not even +know if her condition permitted her to receive one ray of comfort from my +love: I only know she died. She never reached Cayenne. The transport-ship +was her deathbed, and the ocean my martyr's grave. + +But I cannot die. Memory, the portrait, and I live together--the portrait +at once recalling the angel, the devil, the joy, the sorrow of my life. Yet +let me not curse him: he was her brother, and she loved him. I would not +vex my Sidonia in heaven. + +ITA ANIOL PROKOP. + + + + +"GOD'S POOR." + + Who are "God's poor"? + Not they alone who stand + With empty, pleading hand + At Dives' door + (Thou mayst be sure + Such only are _man's_ poor); + But they who therein stay, + And every soul deny + That lifts its needy cry. + "God's poor"--ay, _poorest_ they! + + E. R. CHAMPLIN + + + + +DAYS OF MY YOUTH. + + +The life depicted in the Waverley novels seems to me scarcely more remote +than that in Virginia before the war. As is well known, the land, the +wealth, the influence, the education were possessed by comparatively few +families; and I think there has never been so much happiness enjoyed by any +other community or class of people in this country as those families +enjoyed for generations. Whatever may be said of their social system--and I +am aware that it was not the best--it was perfect of its kind. From their +point of view, everything was as it should be, always excepting the acts of +one or the other party in politics. Life was made easy, and such exacting +cares and responsibilities as could not be honorably evaded were met +without friction, without struggle, without question. Beyond the observance +of a few perfectly-defined habits and customs we did not feel it necessary +to wander in search of social law. What a vast amount of the worry that +perplexes too many other people we escaped! What does the world think? what +will people say? whom shall we recognize? how do we appear?--such +questions, that bring so many of my sex to premature gray hairs, disturbed +us not. If one's standing was what it should be, all Virginia knew it; and +that was the end of it. If one's standing was not what it should be, all +Virginia knew that; and there, again, was the end of it. It is not easy for +ladies reared under less settled conditions to realize how much this +heritage meant to us. We loved our time-honored pleasures; we loved our +friends; we loved the old homes and old ways in which our ancestors, +undisturbed by the restlessness of the North and West, had lived and died +before us; we loved our State. + +To voluntarily put all this behind me after the meridian of life was +passed; to take poverty for my companion and go forth into a world I had +never seen; to send an only son to fight against the traditions, the +kindred, the State that were so dear,--what this cost may Heaven spare the +women of the North from ever knowing! _They_ could hope and pray for the +preservation of what they cherished and for the destruction of what they +condemned. But the Southern woman who was loyal, view it as she would, +could but hope and pray for the destruction of what she loved. Looking back +now on those dreadful days, sorrowing for the sad necessities of the case, +I can but thank God for the fortitude and insight with which He then +endowed me, for the result that at length justified my trust, and put away +all other recollections of the later time as something too painful to dwell +upon even in thought. The Virginia that shall live in my memory is one that +is gone for ever. + +Living as we did on a spur of the Blue Ridge, in the most salubrious part +of the State, one would have thought there was no necessity for going +elsewhere during the hot months. But my mother, near half a century ago, +thought differently. About the first of July we always started on what I +used to call, when a girl, our "pilgrimage." In an old-fashioned coach, +round as an apple and lifted high in the air--which in my childish fancy +was ever associated with the one the fairy made from Cinderella's +pumpkin--with a fat old coachman, and horses as fat and lazy as he, we +would make the distance of twenty miles a day. We accomplished about half +this in the cool morning, stopping at some country tavern during the heat +of the day, and driving another ten miles amid the shades of evening. +Behind us, at a respectful distance, trundled our baggage-wagon. We had +relations in every county, as all true Virginians were bound to have; and +we would tarry for days with them on our journeys, with as little regard to +reaching a definite place at a definite time as if a thousand years +remained to us. + +One of these summer jaunts, when I was a girl, on which I first saw Mr. +Madison, is particularly impressed on my memory. We sojourned several days +at his lovely seat, Montpelier, Mrs. Madison being an old friend of my +mother's. The venerable ex-President was then much emaciated, and I thought +was failing rapidly. He lay most of the time on a couch in the middle of +the room adjoining the dining-room, wrapped in a black silk dressing-gown +elaborately quilted, and did not look larger than a boy of thirteen. At +dinner the first day I was attacked by ague, and Mrs. Madison, leading me +into the next room, placed me on his couch. I awoke an hour or two after in +a high fever, and the look of his face which has outlived all others in my +recollection is that of amusement which lighted the wan features on +beholding the expression of bewilderment and confusion which overspread +mine as I opened my eyes, half delirious, and found him lying beside me. + +In her long talks with us on this occasion Mrs. Madison told many incidents +of her life in Philadelphia and Washington. The two following are in her +own words, as nearly as I can repeat them: "One day in Philadelphia," she +said, "I was sitting in my parlor with a very dear friend, Mrs. R. B. Lee, +when in walked Payne Todd [her son] dressed in my calico bed-gown. While we +were laughing at the figure he cut, the servant threw open the door and +announced General and Mrs. Washington. What to do with that dreadful boy I +didn't know. He could not face the President in that garb. Neither could he +leave the room without meeting them, for the door they were entering was +the only one. I made him crawl quickly under a low, broad settee on which I +was sitting. I had just time to arrange the drapery when the Washingtons +entered. After the courtly greeting and the usual compliments of the +season, there came from under the settee a heavy sigh, which evidently +attracted the general's notice. However, I only talked and laughed a little +louder, hoping to divert his attention, when--oh me!--there came an outcry +and a kick that could not be ignored. So I stooped down and dragged Payne +out by the leg. General Washington's dignity left him for once. Laugh? why +he fairly roared! He nearly went into convulsions. The sight of that boy in +that gown, all so unexpected, coming wrong end first from under my +seat,--it was too much." + +Mr. and Mrs. Madison would in private sometimes romp and tease each other +like two children, and engage in antics that would astonish the muse of +History. Mrs. Madison was stronger as well as larger than he. She +could--and did--seize his hands, draw him upon her back and go round the +room with him whenever she particularly wished to impress him with a due +sense of man's inferiority. Speaking of their flight from Washington on the +24th of August, 1814, she said: "After Mr. Madison had left the White House +for Fairfax, I busied myself in gathering up the little things I prized and +packing them in the carriage, which stood ready at the door. I had placed a +servant at the gate to warn me of the approach of the English troops. I had +just left the sitting-room with a cup and saucer which had belonged to +Marie Antoinette when in rushed my sentinel. After securing the portrait of +Washington, and getting that into the carriage, I jumped in myself, and +away we went for the Chain Bridge. I was dreadfully frightened, and +expected to be pursued. We drove as fast as we could without breaking the +carriage to pieces. I looked out of the back window, thinking I might see +what was going on in Washington; and, sure enough, to my horror there was a +British officer galloping after us at full speed, followed by some +soldiers. I was so alarmed that I opened the door and sprang into the road. +I had no bonnet--only a purple turban--on my head, and my face, I knew, was +red as a poppy. In my excitement I thought I could run faster than the +carriage. The officer passed me, wheeled suddenly, bowed low, and asked me +if he saw Mrs. Madison, the President's lady, at the same time placing his +hand in the bosom of his coat. I inclined my head, expecting that he would +draw forth nothing less than a pistol. But it was a package instead of a +pistol that he offered, saying, 'I was requested to place this in your +hands by Lady ---- of England, and finding you had just left your +residence, I questioned your servants and took the liberty of following +you.' He turned with a low bow, and was gone, leaving me overwhelmed with +mortification." + +The seat that inspired _Swallow Barn_ was the home of my aunt. John P. +Kennedy was her nephew and my cousin. In its main features the book is +singularly true, as an artist would say, in its effects. The prominent +character of Mr. Tracy is almost a literal portrait. To me, so familiar +with the real scenes, there seemed an appearance of rather too much +restraint, as if the conscientious author felt too constantly the fear that +his hand, gentle as it was, might transgress the laws of hospitality and +decorum. This feeling on my part arose, no doubt, from the single fact that +I did know the reality, and thus knew many episodes that would have made +the sketches richer to us giddy young people of that jolly household, but +which did not commend themselves to the practised writer. He took pains to +place Swallow Barn on the lower James. But it was west of the Blue Ridge, +in Jefferson county. The mother of Kennedy was a very beautiful and highly +accomplished woman. She was known among her friends as "Kennedy's angel." +She excelled particularly in music, always tuning her piano herself, and +giving her preference to the works of Mozart. Here at her sister's, Mrs. +Dandridge's--at "Swallow Barn," as we may now call it--she and Kennedy's +father passed their later years, and here many of Cousin John's happiest +days were spent. He always retained his boyish love of fun. He and +Washington Irving would come up to the old place together, and then beware! +No one escaped their mischief. They spared neither age, sex nor previous +condition. Such pranks, such absurdities, such good-natured deviltry, as +reigned supreme till they were gone! During harvest they would take their +seats under the trees with the hands at the long dinner-tables, and +assiduously bottle up quaint sayings and odd doings for future use. + +One adventure in particular, which I think is not alluded to in _Swallow +Barn_, should have formed a chapter there. Kennedy himself was the +ringleader, and his wife's father the victim. The old gentleman was +expected to arrive on a certain day, as a visitor, from Baltimore. It was +not long after Nat Turner's insurrection, and he had conceived an +exaggerated idea of the affair. He was a little timid, in consequence, +about travelling into Virginia alone at that particular time. John knew +that his father-in-law was decidedly "nervous" on the subject. So he, with +what we used to call "the clan," the endless line or circle of +cousins--Dandridges, Kennedys, Pendletons--blacked their faces, clothed +themselves like plantation hands, carrying old muskets, spades and forks, +with cocks' feathers in the hats of the leaders, and marched to meet their +prey. When "attacked" by the gang, the old gentleman gave himself up for +lost. They surrounded his carriage, but before dragging him forth to his +doom they began delivering to him the most preposterous harangue; which, +notwithstanding his fright, led him to detect a son-in-law under the +disguise of the principal desperado. Anger was useless with such a party, +and by the time he reached the house his prayers for mercy had changed to +laughter. Prominent in "the clan" and its diversions in those days was +Colonel Strother, subsequently "Porte Crayon:" "Cousin Dave" was his title +then. + +When Hon. Charles J. Faulkner was married he was keeping bachelor's hall, +and it was proposed that he should give his bride a breakfast the next +morning. Kennedy was the master spirit in the arrangements. The table was +covered with a cloth that was far from immaculate, and set with broken, +cracked and odd pieces of china. The viands were bacon, corn-bread, etc., +arranged in the most grotesque manner possible. When the bridal-party were +ushered in, profoundly ignorant of the joke, they stood horror-stricken. +Kennedy, solemn as an owl, clad as a butler and with white apron, advanced +and presented to the bride about a peck of great rusty keys strung on a +chain that might have drawn a plough, the whole so heavy she could not lift +them. And the speech in which he presented them! Any attempt to repeat or +describe its drollery would only spoil it. I believe he never wrote +anything so witty, so inimitably funny. He wound up by saying that he +resigned, with tears in his eyes--which were tears of laughter--all +authority and control over the establishment. When the farce was played out +there was another announcement, and then a breakfast fit for the gods was +served in earnest. + +John P. Kennedy had no children, but was passionately fond of the children +of his relations, especially those of his brothers, who in turn almost +worshipped him. Making all allowances, of course, for the differences in +their surroundings, the geographical difference in their homes, it always +seemed to me that there was an interesting resemblance between him and +Irving in many little things that the world could scarcely know. In what +they have written the similarity of their humor and style must be apparent +to every one, and Kennedy's literary character was fashioned very much, I +think, by the influence of his more famous friend's. When quite a young man +Kennedy edited, with some kindred spirits, a kind of Salmagundi paper in +Baltimore, ridiculing most effectively a certain class of people whose +pretensions so far exceeded their social worth as to make them legitimate +game for his shafts. It was called _The Red Letter_. Many suspected, but +none of the victims knew, who were the writers. Some amusing incidents grew +out of it, the aforesaid victims being afraid to invite the aforesaid +kindred spirits to their parties, but still more afraid not to invite them. +Lest some reader should have a doubt about the attitude of this genial, +gentle and true man on one important public question, let me add that one +of the last things I knew of his doing was to induce Sheridan to send an +escort of cavalry through to Martinsburg to bring out a young girl whose +parents were Unionists and were then cut off by Southern troops, taking her +to his house and educating her as if she had been his daughter. The last +time I saw his friend Irving was when Kennedy was retiring from the +Secretaryship of the Navy. The new administration had come in, and the +members of the old cabinet were very busy in closing up and turning over +their portfolios and arranging their personal affairs for departure. The +domestic concerns of the retiring Secretary, whose guest Irving had been +during the winter, were therefore in the same state of upheaval as were +affairs at the department. I called to take leave of the family, but not a +soul was in the house except Irving. I inquired lightly how he would +dispose of himself in the general break-up, "Well," answered the quizzical +old bachelor with mock plaintiveness, "I suppose Mrs. Kennedy will pack me +up with the rest of the old crockery." + +American country-life can hardly again be so picturesque as it was on some +of the plantations of Virginia in my young days. The cavalcades of huntsmen +returning with a fox-brush in the cap of the foremost rider, or counting +their partridges on the porch before the ladies--partridges being the birds +known as quails in the North; the riding in the great carriage to church, +surrounded by a retinue on horseback; the coming and going of company to +spend the day, which meant from noon till twilight; the gathering of the +rose-leaves to be dried and sprinkled over the table- and bed-linen for the +odor they imparted;--an atmosphere whose charm cannot be reproduced +envelopes these scenes of the far-away past. + +The chief agricultural event of the year in the region where I lived was +the harvesting of the grain. All the laboring white men who could be of +service were employed with the slaves at such times. Their dinners were +eaten at long tables under the trees, with a tub of iced toddy or +mint-julep in the shade near by. Supper, when the day's work was done, +brought hot coffee, rolls and biscuits, and a dance on the grass to the +music of fiddle and banjo closed the scene at bedtime. The long lines of +"cradlers," following their leader and laying the golden swaths smoothly +across hill and valley, were a sight which was lost with keen regret by me. +I shall never forget when the first reaping-machine came clattering into +the wheat-fields, sounding the knell of all that was most pleasing in the +harvest-time. What a commotion that first reaper made! A certain +distinguished Senator of the United States--I think he was then Speaker of +the House--came from afar to witness its operations and to consider its +introduction on his own rather unproductive plantation. After silently +taking in its movements, his hands meditatively in his pockets and his chin +buried solemnly in his neckcloth, he turned away in disgust, with a comment +that was brief and to the point: "Wouldn't have such a d----d _fast_ thing +on my place!" Much of the distrust, however, with which improved utensils +were regarded had a better reason. Complicated and delicate machines in the +hands of plantation negroes were too much like "all the modern +improvements" in the terrible hands of Biddy. + +I saw personally but little of the darker side of slavery. The worst +pictures I could draw from my own personal knowledge would not be +sufficiently hideous to be interesting. The fairest I could draw would be +of my old black "mammy." From my infancy she was the comforter, counsellor +and guide whose sympathy and assistance never failed me. As dignified as a +duchess; as neat in her striped, home-made dress, kerchief and turban as it +was possible for mortal to be; jealous of the honor of the family; serene, +affectionate, proud of her usefulness,--she is among the first from whom I +expect a loving welcome in heaven. My father gave her free papers after she +had nursed a sick member of the family with especial faithfulness on one +occasion. She locked them up in her trunk, and that was the end of them, +except when she took them out to show to her friends. I think it gratified +her to receive them, however. I recollect the incredulity of a good lady +from Boston, who asked her if she would not like to live there, where there +were no masters and mistresses. "No indeed, honey!" was the reply. + +When a girl I passed a winter in the White House. It was during the last +term of General Jackson. That high white head; the perpendicular hair; the +clear blue eyes--one moment melting with a woman's tenderness, the next +blazing like an angry lion's--peering earnestly from under the great shaggy +eyebrows and over the top of the silver spectacles; the furrowed, pained +face, worn with suffering and perpetual warfare, but occasionally lighted +by a sudden gleam of the old fire, which nothing but death could quench, +when his cane would come down with a thump and "By the Eternal!" would +break forth--the nearest approach to profanity ever heard from his lips by +me, or by anybody, I think, at that period of his life,--how vividly all +these come back! I saw him at his best. The storms of life had wellnigh +passed. His beloved wife was beckoning him to a world of rest and peace. He +was the idol of a majority of his countrymen. He occupied a second time, in +obedience to their voices, what he regarded as the most honorable position +that any man could hold on earth--the Presidency of the United States. In +pursuing what he took to be right he had conquered everybody and everything +that opposed him. He had ever been the incarnation of chivalry toward +women. It is natural, therefore, that under all these circumstances, in +those last days of his and first days of mine, he should have appeared to +me a higher type of man than many people would judge him to be from a +strictly dispassionate consideration of his whole life. I was never given +to hero-worship, but at that time I did come near worshipping this old +hero. I am not here questioning the justice of his latest and completest +biography--Mr. Parton's--but would simply remark how difficult it is for +me, seeing him as I did, and only so, to realize that he was the same being +who enlivens some of the earlier scenes of that book. Toward the women he +respected--and there hardly seemed to be one whom he did not respect--he +had a courtliness of bearing, a considerateness, a gentleness, a +nobility--in short, a charm of manner--which made him, as a mere "carpet +knight," the most winning old _gentleman_ I ever knew. + +In speaking of the superstitions of the Scotch-Irish, Mr. Parton says: +"General Jackson himself, to the end of his life, never liked to begin +anything of consequence on Friday, and would not if it could be avoided +without serious injury to some important interest." So far from abstaining +from any undertaking on Friday, the general has told me himself that he +made it a point to start on a journey and begin such things on that day; +and he laughed at the superstition. Nevertheless, I am inclined to suspect +that this very fact should be taken as evidence that the superstition did +exist in him; that he was conscious of it; that his judgment told him it +was an unworthy weakness; and that he was determined to conquer it. He +acknowledged its influence by the care he took to defy it. + +In those days visitors to the White House knocked or rang as they would at +the mansion-door of any private gentleman. One rainy day a visitor thus +announced himself, but for some reason no servant appeared immediately to +admit him. The family heard it, and so did the general in his office, where +he was writing. It did not occur to me or any one else that interference +with the servants' duties was necessary. Suddenly there was a rustle of +papers and an apparition. "What!" thundered the President. "A citizen of +the United States stands knocking at my door in the rain, and it isn't +opened!" The door was opened soon after that remark. + +One day the general received a letter of four or five pages of foolscap +from Ireland--I do not know whether it came from Carrickfergus or not--in +which the writer said that he was a cousin of the President's, and that he +recollected perfectly when the general was born, and gave the exact +locality and all the attendant circumstances. He closed by saying he would +like to come over. Jackson laughed over the letter, and expressed his +surprise that he should have been born in Ireland and in Carolina too. + +It was his custom, when he had no one dining with him besides the family, +to say, as he raised his single glass of wine, "Here's to absent friends!" +Then, glancing toward me, he would add in a low tone, "And sweethearts, +too,----." + +On one occasion, when I was ill, the general called in Dr. Hunt, his family +physician. The doctor was a tall, lank, ugly man--"as good as gold," but +with none of the graces that are supposed to win young ladies; yet he was +married to one of the loveliest young creatures I ever knew. General +Jackson accompanied him to my room, and after my pulse had been duly felt +and my tongue duly inspected, they drew their chairs to the fire and began +to talk. + +"Hunt," suddenly exclaimed the President, "how came you to get such a young +and pretty wife?" + +"Well, I'll tell you," replied the doctor. "I was called to attend a young +lady at the convent in Georgetown. Her eyes were bad: she had to keep them +bandaged. I cured her without her ever having had a distinct view of me. +She left the institution, and a year afterward she appeared here in +society, a belle and a beauty. At a ball I introduced myself, without the +slightest ulterior design, as the physician who had restored her sight, +although I supposed she had never really seen me. She instantly expressed +the most heartfelt gratitude. It seemed so deep and genuine that I was +touched. That very evening she informed me that she had a severe cold, and +that I must again prescribe for her. Well! it don't look reasonable, but I +did it. I wrote my name on a bit of paper, folded it and handed it to her, +telling her she must take that prescription. She read it and laughed. 'It's +a bitter pill,' she said, 'and must be well gilded if ever I take it.' But +whether it was bitter or whether it was gilded, we were married." + +The hospitality of the White House at that time, like that of the +Hermitage, has become proverbial. Very few brought letters of introduction +who were not invited to dinner. Consequently, the table was almost always +full. It seemed to me that Jackson never heard of a wrong to any human +being, or what he conceived to be such, without trying to right it. + +When Aaron Burr was at the Hermitage in 1805 he wrote in his diary, for the +entertainment of Theodosia: "The general has no children, but two lovely +nieces made a visit of some days, contributed greatly to my amusement, and +have cured me of all the evils of my wilderness jaunt. If I had time I +would describe to you these two girls, for they deserve it." The temptation +is strong to give the descriptions omitted by Mr. Burr, but it would lead +me too far. They were nieces of Mrs. Jackson rather than the general's. One +of them, whom he had adopted as his daughter, married her cousin, A. J. +Donelson--her own maiden name being also Donelson--who was secretary to the +President when I knew them, afterward minister to Austria, and candidate +for Vice-President in 1856 on the ticket with Mr. Fillmore. + +One Sunday evening, after dinner, Mrs. Donelson, Mrs. Jackson and I, with +several other ladies, were gossiping in the Blue Room. This Mrs. Jackson, +who had been a pretty Philadelphia girl, was the wife of another cousin and +nephew who was born a Donelson, but who was adopted by the general, took +the name of Jackson and inherited the Hermitage. Mr. Van Buren, then +Secretary of State, had what is now known as "the inside track" for the +succession. He, was the friend and choice of Jackson; and that settled it +in the minds of those who knew both men. Mrs. Jackson--the lady mentioned +above, of course, for the General's wife did not live to see the White +House--disliked Van Buren for some reason. Mrs. Donelson, turning to me +with affected gravity, said, "When you are Mrs. President Van Buren, I want +you to send my husband to England as minister." I solemnly assured her she +should have whatever she wished. Then Mrs. Barker appealed to me in behalf +of her husband as collector at Philadelphia. Turning to Mrs. Jackson, I +asked what she would like. "Nothing at Mr. Van Buren's hands," was the +sudden reply. At that instant I heard a rustle behind me. There stood Mr. +Van Buren! He was smiling, and evidently amused. We were so completely +caught that there was no resource but the suppressed giggling little scream +that never fails a true woman when no other strategy is possible. He gave +no intimation of having heard a word. Indeed, I never saw Mr. Van Buren's +perfect self-possession fail him but once: that was when he fell off his +horse for me on Pennsylvania Avenue. And with this ridiculous performance +these rambling reminiscences must end. + +One fine spring morning the President insisted that we should invite the +Cass girls, the Forsyths and some others, make a riding-party, and return +with them all to the White House for lunch. He sent to Mr. Blair for the +white horse he had ridden in a grand procession at New York, which Blair +had bought. This fiery charger, very appropriate for such a horseman as +General Jackson on a state occasion, was so spirited and appeared so +unmanageable that I was afraid to touch him. But the general had made up +his mind that I should ride that horse on that occasion, and I knew what it +meant when his mind was made up. He put me on himself, saying, "Why, child, +if you can't ride him, you couldn't ride a sheep." We reached the avenue +very well, when the horse seemed to remember New York and General Jackson. +He reared, plunged and dashed off. Mr. Van Buren, in trying to seize the +reins, was drawn from his own saddle and dragged some distance. His +position for a few moments was rather undignified, but he came up smiling +and unhurt, and made as creditable an appearance as could be expected. We +had a happy day in spite of the mishap, but not even the will of General +Jackson ever got me on that horse again. + +M. T. + + + + +A LAW UNTO HERSELF. + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +The reason which Mr. Van Ness offered for Jane's disappearance, he +protested, would suggest itself to everybody as the only possible one: her +grief had deranged her, and she had wandered away bent on self-destruction. +But the house was filled now with the friends of the captain, among them +Judge Rhodes and Mrs. Wilde, and he read doubt and lurking suspicion on +every face. The judge, it is true, directed the hurried searches through +the grounds and the dragging of the lake. + +"But I wish the captain had not pushed the marriage so hard. Drill-major to +the last gasp. I was to blame in suggesting it at first," he said, +point-blank to Van Ness. + +"Suicide? Nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Wilde. "Jane is eccentric, as +every thoroughly truthful woman is. But sane. One of the sanest people I +know." + +She summoned Betty, and the two women were closeted together for half an +hour. + +"You should have sent for me," she said when the story was ended. "The +child should not have been left to the tender mercies of these men. Call +him in." + +When Van Ness appeared he saw that the old lady's eyes were red. + +"You are going in pursuit of her? Mrs. Nichols has told me all," she said +blandly. + +"I shall search for her, undoubtedly. Her mind was evidently shaken. There +is a bare chance that she may have gone on the train. But the river being +so near and her grief so great, I fear the worst, Mrs. Wilde." + +"No doubt, no doubt! But if you do follow her on the train--How was she +dressed, Betty?" + +"In gray. Black hat and gray feather," said Betty like a parrot. + +"Thank you! That will be of assistance to me.--They are trying to help her +escape," he thought as he went out, with a bow and melancholy smile. He had +waited to talk with Mr. Lampret. He asked him for a certificate of the +marriage. + +"If my wife is living and wandering insane through the country, it will be +necessary to prove my right to claim her." + +To his surprise, the clergyman grew red and stammered, with a painful +anxiety in his boyish face. + +"I fear we were too hasty, Mr. Van Ness. Are you quite sure she consented +freely to the marriage? There was no moral compulsion used?" + +"There was none," coldly. "My marriage, as I believe, had in it all the +elements of future happiness. Besides, that is hardly a question, it +appears to me, for you to consider now. Whether suitable or not, the +marriage was legal. When can you give me the certificate?" + +Mr. Lampret did not speak for a moment. "I suppose it is irrevocable," he +said with a long breath. "The making out of the certificate will involve a +delay of a couple of hours." + +"I shall wait for it," said Van Ness. + + * * * * * + +It was midnight before he left The Hemlocks and took the train into New +York. There he had other work to do, which consumed an hour or two. He must +lay plans to free himself from any hold which Charlotte had upon him. He +had not courage to live, in even the rare delights to which he looked +forward as Jane's husband, with that sword at his throat. He could find no +trace of Charlotte. But he wakened up a lawyer (not the eminent counsel who +systematized his vast benevolent schemes), and gave him full instructions +and a blank cheque. + +"I must have this connection closed at once. And at any price," he said as +he left the door at one o'clock in the morning. + +"To Desbrosses street ferry. In time to catch the Philadelphia express," he +ordered the cabman. + +He had not tried to find a clew to her in New York. She was unknown +there--not likely to be recognized even by officials on the trains running +up to The Hemlocks. + +"She would try to escape from a place where she is a stranger. But it would +cut her deeply to leave her father unburied," he argued shrewdly. "She +would go direct to their old home in Philadelphia, where the associations +with him were strongest. She is full of such foolish notions!" He glowed +with admiration of these warm affections, so becoming to a beautiful woman, +as he leaned back in his seat in the car. Van Ness had indeed a keen +appreciation of fine sentiments in books or in people. A noble thought +fitly uttered or a pathetic strain of music would bring the tears to his +eyes. All his friends will testify to-day that he is a man of most +sensitive nature. He remembered this admirable trait in himself as he sat +thinking over his future married life that night. It was one of the means +by which he would be sure to win the love of his wife, and drive away her +grief for the poor old captain. He took out a tiny volume from his pocket +and studied it carefully by the dull light of the lamp overhead. The +conductor, who knew the great Christian financier by sight, looked on +reverently at a distance. It was some epitome of wisdom that he pored over: +perhaps the Book of books. There was, in fact, a little mirror set in the +inside of the binding. Van Ness studied the glisten on his yellow beard, +the gluey softness of his blue eyes. "There never was a woman who would not +yield to me," he thought, shutting the book. "But it does not matter +whether she does or not," he added, his fingers searching for the marriage +certificate in his pocket and closing on it with a fierce grip. + + +CHAPTER XX. + +Van Ness had really but slight knowledge of the places in which Jane's +early life had been passed. On reaching Philadelphia he was forced to +search through old directories for the houses in which the captain had +lived, and go to them in turn--a tedious process enough, as the old man had +migrated, as his whim or purse dictated, from Kensington to Southwark, from +a close-built block in the business quarter to a tumble-down cottage on the +Wissahickon. It was near night before he arrived at the old house +surrounded by trees in the Neck which had been their last home in +Philadelphia. Disappointment and secret rage had only made the unctuous +sweetness of his manner a little coarser in flavor. The woman who came to +the door adjusting a pink bow at her collar found his familiar greeting +exactly suited to the level of her own breeding. + +"A young lady? With blue eyes and yellow hair? Oh yes, sir. Colored pretty +much like yourself. But she don't favor you, either. Come in! come in! My +name's Crawford. Young lady's yer sister, likely?" + +"At what time was she here?" + +"Just at breakfast-time. Well, say seven. She didn't come in no furder than +this room. Said she'd lived here with a friend, and would like to take a +look ag'in at the old place. She sat there, on that settee, and looked in +the fire a while, and then went out to the garden and walked up and down. I +suspicioned she wa'n't right in her mind," volubly. "The idee of comin' +back to look at a house and yard! I guess I was right. Somethin' +wantin'--eh?" touching her forehead. + +"Yes. Do you know in which direction she went, Mrs. Crawford?" + +"I haven't the least notion. If I'd ha' had any intimation, now, that she +had escaped from her friends, I'd ha' done all I could to help 'em. My +George could hev' followed her all day, for that matter. What was the +cause, now? Religious excitement? Disappintment?" + +"Both, both! You did not observe her dress, I suppose?" + +"Oh yes, I did. Brown waterproof and brown hat. 'Twouldn't be easy to trace +her by her dress." + +"Did she speak of returning here?" + +"No. I wish I'd incouraged her!" her zeal reaching fever-heat in this +hinted tragedy. "She come in an' thanked me very gravely, an' said she +would probably never see the old house ag'in. Poor thing! She gave George +some money, which wa'n't at all necessary, I'm sure." + +"If she did not expect to see the house again, she meant to leave the +city," said Van Ness when he was again in the street. "She will be easily +traced at the railway-stations." + +But in this he was disappointed. Young women dressed in the uniform +travelling costume daily came and went in troops through the avenues of +travel: a dozen indifferent ticket-agents had hazy recollections of this +especial traveller on her way to Boston, to San Francisco, to Baltimore. +Mr. Van Ness, too, found that his own social dignity and prominence sorely +hindered his researches. Everybody in the city knew Pliny Van Ness by +sight. It would not do for him, as for any common man, to go from office to +office inquiring for the heroine of a mysterious elopement. The Christian +humanitarian must keep his garments clean of suspicion as jealously as +Caesar's wife. + +Reporters, too, had their eyes upon him, turn which way he would, for the +opinions and movements of Mr. Van Ness had long furnished welcome material +for the columns of "Personals" in the morning journals. What if a hint of +this episode of his marriage and his wife's disappearance should creep into +the blatant newspapers? He moved, threatened, hampered, by this open-day +terror, one unsuccessful day slipping into another until three weeks had +gone by. + +Early one chilly October morning he found himself without any definite aim +knocking at Mrs. Crawford's door, and was welcomed by her with effusion, +for she had supposed her chance of any share in the tragedy to be gone. + +"And you hain't found her yet, eh? Dear! dear! If I'd only knowed in time! +It's told on you, sir. Yes, indeed. You've aged considerable in this +month." + +The only real change in Van Ness was a certain new alien expression which +was now and then perceptible under the blandishment of his smile, like some +savage beast peeping out from behind the painted canvas of his cage. His +news from the lawyer in New York was unsatisfactory; he was baffled at +every turn by insignificant difficulties in his search for Jane; there was +every temptation for the beast which was in him to break its bonds. But +luck had turned for him. + +"Dear! dear!" continued Mrs. Crawford. "Have you tried the police? Though +they're of little account. She could not have come to any bodily harm. The +dog would protect her." + +"Dog? You said nothing about a dog. Had she that damnable brute with her?" +starting up. + +"A large hound; sir. Why, to be sure, I told you!--Lord! he's gone!" + +Here at last was a clew! It proved effectual. The agent at the Pennsylvania +Railroad office remembered distinctly the young girl who wished to take her +dog with her down to some station on the coast, and the difficulty which +the train-master meant to make about it. "But she took him," he added. "She +was a very beautiful woman. Nobody cared to refuse her." + +Van Ness went down to the Branch, to Beach Haven, Manasquan, all the +fishing-villages along the coast, among the rest to Sutphen's Point. He +talked to old Sutphen himself, his foot resting on a barnacle-eaten log +where Jane herself had sat the day before. But the old man was loyal. He +was stupid, stared vacantly at Van Ness, had seen no young woman and no +dog: there had never been any such at the Point. Van Ness went hurriedly on +to the next station, spent a couple of days in the search, and returned to +Philadelphia. + +"So the young lady came back before you?" said the agent, nodding +familiarly as he passed the ticket-window. + +"Yes. You saw her?" + +"Oh, she bought her ticket of me. Yesterday, you know." + +"For what point?" Van Ness's voice was so hoarse that the man heard him +with difficulty. + +"Richmond. Took the dog, too." + +"Give me a ticket for Richmond, please. When does the next train go?" + +"In half an hour. She has twenty-four hours the start of you, sir," with a +significant laugh as he handed out the ticket and change. + +Van Ness arrived at dawn the following morning at the little wooden shed +with its garden of dahlias and lilacs which called itself a depot on the +outskirts of the drowsy country town so lately the focus on which had +rested the eyes of the civilized world. Two or three negroes bustled into +activity as the train rolled in: an old woman dusted the rocking-chairs +about the stove. They all remembered the tall, handsome young lady with the +dog, who had flung about her money so freely the day before. + +"I brought her breakfast, sah. I'm Dabney. Everybody knows Dabney's +reliable. Mighty fine hound, sah. De young lady went on to Morganton, Nothe +Callina. Oh, tank you, sah!" + +Morganton is a village perched on a spur of the Blue Ridge, made dusky by +shadows of overhanging hills. The garrulous landlord of the inn was ready +to point out his prey to Van Ness. + +"A lady? Miss Swendon, you mean? I've known her since she was a child. +Captain Swendon came to the Balsam Mountings for years for the hunting. +Allays brought the little girl. She's broken down terrible. Her father's +death's interrupted her, powerful." + +"She is here, then?" lowering his voice. + +"No. She went on to the captain's camping-ground on the Old Black. Seemed +as if she must go every place where he had been. He allays buried himself +among the mountings. I doubt if you can find the place." + +"Where Miss Swendon can go I surely can follow." + +"Dunno. She's used to the mountings. P'raps you can get a guide at +Asheville. It's the last place whah human beings live--high up on the +Black: an old hunter, Glenn and his wife--kind, decent people, but not jest +civilized. The captain was allays in cahoot with them, and they was +powerful fond of Jane." + +There was no regular conveyance then across the Blue Ridge to Asheville. +Van Ness crossed the range on horseback with a guide: the horse broke down, +and caused a delay of a day. He arrived, therefore, at the little hill-town +late in the afternoon of Friday. Miss Swendon had gone up into the +mountains two days before, he learned, with the old hunter Glenn, who +happened to be in the village with a load of roots and peltry. + +"I must go on to-night," said Van Ness urgently. + +The ex-Confederate colonel who kept the inn surveyed him leisurely. +"Glenn's house lies about thirty miles up in the Balsam Range," he said +deliberately. "The passes are dangerous in daylight: it would be impossible +to make the ascent at night. I shall not be able to find a guide for you +until to-morrow." + +Van Ness was exhausted in mind and body. The night's rest was tempting. + +"I shall find her at this man Glenn's? She will not go farther?" + +The colonel laughed: "Not unless she turns hermit or takes up her lodging +with the wild beasts. Glenn's hut is the last human habitation on the +mountains. You have her, sure." + +"Then I will take supper and a bed." + +He slept soundly that night, and sipped his coffee at breakfast +comfortably, smiling now and then to himself. The silly creature was making +herself happy this morning in the mountain-fastness, going over her +father's old haunts, thinking that she was hidden where he would never find +her. But how easily he had run her down! The horses and guide were waiting +at the door. Before the sun set he would have her in his hold securely, as +easily as he could grasp that bird in its cage yonder. + + * * * * * + +Glenn's house was in fact but a rambling log hut built under the shelter of +one of the peaks of the Old Black. The Appalachian ranges at this point +reach their highest altitude on the continent. The unbroken primeval forest +came up to the very door of the hut. A few feet off a stream, the +head-water of the Swannanoa, dashed over the precipice. + +As the sun was setting that evening, the old hunter's wife waited in the +door to meet Jane, who came slowly down the gorge, with the dog beside her. +The two women stood together watching the red ball of fire go down behind +Old Craggy. It threw sharp shafts of light into the heavy cloud that hung +halfway up the peak, while overhead the sky was green and translucent as +the sea. + +The hunter's wife did not speak to Jane as she stood beside her, and did +not watch her. The incurious habit of silence of these mountaineers rested +the girl. They had been her friends when she was a little girl: she had +come back, as sure of finding their friendship as the rock on which their +house was built. She had come up with her heart and brain full of +unwholesome sickness to be cured in these silent solitudes of the world. +The cure was begun. Her eye was clearer, the hopeless load was lifted from +her life. What did pain matter? Or death? There was about her here a great +repose in which these things faded out. + +She looked at the glittering stream close by, at the unending slopes of +underbrush blazing scarlet with the rowan and the shonieho, and then beyond +these lower hills--fold and fold of living color--to the great bare peak +wrapped in clouds, a few dead trees climbing its base, which stands like a +mighty warder of the Atlantic coast. The tears rose to her eyes. + +"One must have a mean and selfish soul to be unhappy here," she thought. +The twilight fell suddenly. The sides of the mountains went into shadow: +only the sky about the peaks burned redly. Jane went in and sat down by the +old hunter before the big log-fire. + +"I wish you to let me stay with you," she said. "I have a little money, +which will last a long time here. After it is gone I can make more, +somehow." + +Glenn for answer only put out his hand and touched hers gently. The hand +was as bony as her father's, and his hair was as white. That comforted the +girl more than any words. His wife, who was always the speaker, said, +"You've always been welcome, Jane. You know that. You won't need money. We +get our living out of the mountings for the taking of it. When your father +was gone it was nateral for you to come straight here, an' to stay." + +"Yes, I will stay," said Jane. + +Presently the old man raised his hand: "Hark! There's folks coming." + +"I hear nothing, father," said Mrs. Glenn. + +"Yes. There's horses at the lower ford. Two of 'em. They're acrost now. +It's more'n a year since anybody's bin up the mounting. Kin it be any one +a-followin' you, Jane?" + +She got up slowly: "Who could follow me?" + +The next moment the hoofs of the horses rang on the shelving rocks outside. +The door opened, and Van Ness stood on the threshold. + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +The Scotia was within a few hours of Liverpool. The passengers were all +gathered on deck--the women, eager and garrulous, eying each other a little +curiously in their new costumes--even the most _blase_ traveller among them +roused by the smell of land. Miss Fleming, however, sat quietly apart, with +Mr. Neckart beside her. The other passengers were accustomed to see these +two together, silent and uncommunicative even to each other. Cornelia had +early understood that Neckart's ailment, whatever it was, whether mood or +disease, craved quiet. She instantly suited herself to its need. Captain +Swendon had always rejoiced in her as one of the most loquacious and +sociable of human beings. Bruce, on the contrary, was strongly attracted by +the aloofness and unconscious repose of this taciturn woman, who held +herself apart from the vulgarly fashionable crowd in the cabins, not being +of their kind. He fell into the habit of taking his seat near her, partly +to avoid the others, partly for the comfort of being able to sleep, talk, +or be silent undisturbed. After a few days he began to be conscious of a +fine similarity of taste and convictions between them. Whether it was a +question of political law or the color of a curling wave, Cornelia's +thought about it evidently ran in the same groove as his own, though more +weakly, as became the intellect of a woman. A word or a laughing glance was +enough to convey this subtle sympathy between them. It had undeniably +soothed and brightened the passage. + +Bruce Neckart, at night, alone in his state-room, knew that he had left +ambition, love, happiness, behind him--that he was cut off from all the +chances of life. At night the indescribable feeling of vacancy at the base +of the brain, the stricture as of an iron band about his jaws, the +occasional sudden numbness of nerve and thought, as though he were stricken +for the instant with extreme old age, were hints which brought his +approaching fate before him as with a horror of great darkness. But on +deck, in daylight, the swell lapping the vessel, his feeble appetite +gratified by a well-cooked meal, there was some interest yet to be found in +the Southern problem or the claims of the Pre-Raphaelites; and he was +grateful to Chance for this companion who sat ready to grasp any subject +which attracted him, with a woman's fine intuition, but who demanded only +the personal courtesy due to an innocent, manly boy. She showed him, too, +during the voyage, much womanly, personal kindness, for which, being of an +honest, affectionate nature, he was grateful. + +Now that they were nearing land, therefore, Mr. Neckart's thoughts as he +sat beside her were wholly busied with his companion. He was heartily sorry +for her. Ordinary observers, he reflected, would mistake her for one of the +strong-minded Advanced Sisterhood, but he knew her to be sensitive and +delicate in the extreme. He felt a certain sense of ownership in her as his +discovery. How was she to find her way alone in Europe? He had meant to +cut absolutely loose from every tie of his past life on landing, but this +thread held him still. Could he arrange any future occasional intercourse +with her? He did not mean to hamper himself at all. Still, he might be +useful to her, etc., etc. In short, the pillow on which he had rested his +aching head had been warm and pleasant to him, and he threw it away +reluctantly. There really was no reason, he argued (according to the +invariable argument of men concerning this woman), no reason whatever, why +firm and fervent friendships should not exist between persons of opposite +sex. He would have been insulted at a hint that this sympathy, _bonne +camaraderie_, with the little woman in green beside him involved disloyalty +to Jane. The little woman, however, gave neither of these fine names to +their traffic of sentiment. The Cornelias of their sex make no mistakes in +this matter. + +It was a sombre, foreboding day. The passengers were gathered on the +forward deck. Neckart and Cornelia were alone, the gray fog shutting them +in. She sat with her head turned from him, immovable, but he was conscious, +through the strong subtle magnetism that belonged to this woman, of the +powerful excitement which she controlled. He quite forgot his own trouble. +This delicate, lonely creature venturing into the world! He asked her some +questions as to her plans on landing, but she answered vaguely. She heard +only the throb of the steamer beating out the few moments left to her. Her +whole life was risked upon this voyage. Had she failed? There was but an +hour left. What woman could do she had done. Good God! why must she be +silent? Her whole soul had called out for this man for years: she had loved +him with a man's force of passion. Why could she not speak now and tell him +so? She must sit beside him dumb, lifeless, unless he put out his hand to +take her! + +"Half-past four," said Neckart, looking at his watch. "I am sure you are +sorry the voyage is so nearly over." + +She did not speak, but he caught a gleam in her eye that startled him. +Under all her coldness she was a strange, vivid creature well worth study. +He leaned forward eagerly, + +"Your undertaking terrifies you, now that the time has come. You would +rather turn back?" + +She moved restlessly under his keen scrutiny, as though it hurt her. Her +hands were clasped on her knees, her eyes fixed on the black line on the +horizon which marked land. "No, I will go on." + +"Cornelia," with warm kindness in his face and voice, "I am afraid you have +overrated your devotion to your work. A woman must be possessed by her art +as by a demon to enable her to endure years of solitude in a foreign +country, homeless and friendless. Have you counted all the cost? When you +leave me you cut yourself loose from all your old life." She turned her +head away, but made no reply. "I do not believe you are strong enough, poor +child!" he said presently. + +Silence pleaded for her as no words of her own could have done. Neckart saw +the strained eyes, the quivering chin: his interest suddenly became alive, +intense--a feeling quite apart from the kindliness which his words +expressed. + +"I begin to think you have mistaken your vocation altogether. You are too +dependent, too tender a woman, for an artist. You should have chosen a +domestic life, Cornelia." And, after an embarrassed pause of a moment, "You +should have married." + +He saw the quick shudder: his own blood beat feverishly. He had always been +curious about women. He would push the probe a little deeper: "If there had +been any friend who was more to you than your art?--" + +She turned her head slowly. The bleached face and burning eyes fastened on +his own told her story before she spoke: "I have had no friend but you, +Bruce." + +Neckart started to his feet, hot from head to foot like a blushing girl. He +paced the deck dumb with shame and confusion. It was long before he found +courage to look at her. Her hands were clasped over her face: she was +sobbing in a helpless, strengthless way that seemed to put her on the +ground at his feet. He looked toward the land. Would it never come nearer? +Finally, feeling himself wholly a scoundrel, and moved by a great +compassion and as great annoyance, he pushed the green cloak aside and sat +down hastily on the bench beside her, beginning to talk rapidly. If the +limb must come off, the quicker the better. + +"I understand just what you mean, Miss Fleming. You need a friend, an +adviser, being here in Europe alone. Of course you turn to me, remembering +old times in Delaware, and--and--" She had stopped sobbing now, and was +watching him breathlessly, her eyes following his lips as he spoke. +Neckart, looking at her, broke down. + +"How can I do it?" he thought. "This woman's whole life has been given to +me, and I did not know it!--It's natural," he began again aloud, "that you +should turn to me. You know how gladly I would be your friend--" + +She shook her head, her straining eyes on his. "Yes, gladly--thankfully!" +(Surely, it was only right to soften the blow.) "You cannot know how--how +dear you have always been to me, Cornelia. But I can have nothing to do +with friendship or any other relation which makes a man's life worth +endurance. I am barred out from so much of my birthright by my blood." + +"What do you mean, Bruce?" + +"You know the fate of the Davidges: I need not go over the story. God knows +it is not a pleasant subject for me to dwell upon. But for the last year I +have had unmistakable proof that I have the hereditary disease. That is the +reason why I have given up my business and every tie in life, and +expatriated myself." + +As he spoke she rose, shaken with excitement; her face took on a new +meaning; for the moment she was a young and beautiful woman: "Oh, Bruce! +Bruce! you are all wrong! Is it possible that you have never been +undeceived? There is not a drop of the Davidge blood in your veins!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have heard the story from my mother a hundred times. Your father was +married twice--the first time in Maryland, where you were born. Your mother +died at your birth. He came to Kent county and married Miss Davidge, who +never had any children. It was the first symptom of her insanity that she +conceived the idea that you were her own son, and your father willingly +humored her in the belief. You were deceived too as a child, lest you might +betray the real facts to her. But I thought when you were a man you would +be told the truth." + +"How could I?" said Neckart, bewildered. "My father died when I was a boy +of ten, and my mother--But she was not my mother!" His eyes filled: he +turned hastily away. It seemed to him as if the dear old mother had just +then died to him. + +Cornelia timidly touched his arm: "But you do not understand. You are not a +Davidge. You are free from the Davidge disease." + +"Free?" It was not easy to turn back the convictions and terrors of a +lifetime in a moment. He stared at her stunned: "Then these symptoms have +been only caused by overwork, as the doctors said? I--I am like other men?" + +"Yes." + +"Merciful God!" + +Cornelia leaned over the taffrail. Would he come to her? The blood ebbed +weakly in her veins; the rush of the water below roared like thunder; as +the minutes passed a deadly sickness came into her breast. She looked to +find him. He was at the other end of the deck, talking with the captain, +his swarthy face glowing, his eyes like coals of fire. + +"The Russia is the first steamer to New York," she heard the captain say. +"You can board her to-night. This is a very sudden resolution, Mr. +Neckart?" + +"Yes. But I must return to my business at once. There are other matters too +which--matters which I have neglected." + +"But your health? You mentioned a cerebral disorder which required rest?" + +"Oh, I am much better! The sea-voyage--I am another man, sir!" + +He walked down the deck, his back toward her. It was the heavy figure, the +swinging awkward gait, which she remembered twenty years ago on the old +farm-road. The world was born anew to him: health, work, chances--he had +but to stretch out his hands and clutch them all again, and under all was +the sweet triumphant passion. + +"Jane! Jane!" + +His eyes strained back over the long waste of water. But as for Cornelia, +he had forgotten that she was in the world. + +When the people were leaving the steamer to go on the tug, she came up to +him. It was easier to bear another turn of the rack than be utterly dropped +out of remembrance. + +"We part here, Mr. Neckart," with an admirably cordial little smile, +holding out her gloved hand. + +Neckart stammered with sudden remorse and pity: "'Pon my soul, Miss +Fleming, I forgot that you were going ashore! Forgive me. But a man +reprieved with the axe at his neck can't be expected to have his senses at +call." + +"You go back, then?" + +"Oh, immediately! I must regain my--my work. What can I do for you?" +zealously. "Your baggage, now? There will be nothing dutiable, of course. +Will you have it sent to London or direct to the Continent? You told me +your plans, but--" + +"You have forgotten them," smiling. "The baggage is already on its way. You +forget I am one of the capable, self-reliant sisterhood. No. You can do +nothing for me but to say good-bye." + +Neckart caught her hand and wrung it vehemently, but it lay with its smooth +kid covering passive in his palm. He began to say something to her about +her art and success, but the words seemed a ghastly mockery and died in his +throat. + +"Oh, I shall succeed, undoubtedly, but in a low grade. My ability is of +inferior quality. I know all my limitations," with a sudden metallic laugh. + +"You will return in a year or two, and--" + +"No, I shall not return. I shall never see you again," looking for the +first time in his face. + +Neckart glanced beyond her to the strange city, vast and dreary in the +twilight and drizzle and falling soot. The docks were swarming with life. +Some of their fellow-passengers had already landed and been met by eager +friends, and were driven away to their homes. This woman was going +friendless into the night and crowd. She was so little and lonely and +hardly used! But what could he do? He had not a minute to lose if he would +board the Russia. + +"Miss Fleming, I owe a fresh lease of life to you. I shall always think of +you with gratitude." + +"What I gave you was a free gift," she said in a very quiet voice. "I want +no gratitude in return for it. Good-bye." + +"Good-bye." + +She suddenly raised his hand and kissed it. + +"Cornelia!" + +But she was gone, and in a moment was lost in the hurrying crowds, on which +a sullen rain was beginning to fall. + +Before midnight Neckart was ploughing his way back. His brain was quite +clear--no threats of paralysis or sudden age. He lay awake building honest +air-castles--new plans for the paper, dreams of happiness for Jane as fresh +and sweet as a boy's of his first love. But through them all the kiss on +his hand burned like fire. He rubbed it again and again angrily. + +He wanted no guilty damned spot about him when he came to Jane. + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +When the door of the hut opened Bruno growled furiously. Mr. Van Ness +appeared on the threshold, smiling, benign, a goodly sight, from his blond +head and the yellow topaz on his snowy shirt-front to the polished boots. + +"Down, Bruno, down!" said Jane. + +The old hunter observed that though she stood erect she could not bring her +voice above a whisper. She looked at Van Ness like a kid that the dogs +were going to tear to death. Glenn came up hastily between her and the +stranger. He had the dog's sudden antipathy to him and to his smile. + +"What is your business?" + +Van Ness advanced and held out his hand cordially. The mountains had had +their effect upon him: his irritated nerves lay now quieted out of sight in +the thick cool flesh. As he ascended the heights he had laid his plans. +Gentleness first, force if need be: gentle measures would no doubt suffice. +The law would ensure to him immediate possession of his wife. She had the +devilish obstinacy of a mule, but she was his wife. He would bring her to +love him at last, and their future life would be eminently respectable and +comfortable. Laidley's estate must yield now, on an average? The remainder +of the ride had passed in pleasant calculation. Never had his temper been +more serene or firm than when he presented himself before his wife. + +"What's your business?" said the old man. + +"My business," gently, "is with that lady. I have followed her here from +New York, and I thank you heartily, sir, for taking care of her." + +"Of course I'll take care of Jane. I'll not allow her to be follered or +disturbed, neyther.--Do you want to see this man, child?" + +Jane did not hear him. Her eyes were fastened on the handsome figure, all +light and benignity. She had thought she was done with it for ever. It +seemed to her now as if it never would leave her sight again. + +"You kin see clearly that you're unwelcome to her," said Glenn.--"Wife, +take Jane into her own room until this gentleman is gone." + +"When I go," said Van Ness with a pleasant, airy wave of the hand, "she +goes with me. You are kind, my dear sir, but unreasonable. I have a claim +upon this lady which even you will allow is sufficient." + +"What claim has he on you, Jane?" turning his back abruptly on Van Ness. +"Has he any right to talk in this way?" + +"Yes. I am his wife." + +"Wife! Married! Not accordin' to law?" + +"There is the certificate." + +At the sight of this slip of paper, and with the rustle of it in Glenn's +hand, her strength ebbed away from Jane. It was the Law. Her prejudices and +dislikes seemed suddenly insignificant, helpless, in this mighty force. It +had the same effect on the ignorant, law-abiding mountaineer. + +"I don't see but as it's correct," turning it over, perplexed. "She's yer +legal wife." + +"No matter ef she were his wife a hundred times," cried his wife: "she +shall not go back ef she chooses to stay. P'raps he's abused her. He shall +not force her away." + +"I have no wish to force her to leave you," in the same gentle, cheerful +tone. "Be rational, dear friends. I leave Jane to answer whether I have +ever used toward her a word or action that was not loving and tender." + +"No," said Jane, dully. + +"Do you know anything of me which would justify your flight? Answer me +candidly. Is there a single reason why you should not honor and respect me +as your husband?" + +Jane was silent. The law within her gave a savage answer. But what was that +but blind prejudice? She must answer according to the judgment of the +outside world. + +"Is there any reason?" + +"No--none." + +Van Ness nodded cheerfully, and motioned the hunter and his wife +confidentially to his side: "I will explain the matter to you precisely as +it stands," his light eyes looking over their heads to Jane. + +She stood irresolutely a moment, and then went into the little room which +had been set apart for her. She could not draw her breath so near to him. + +Van Ness, peering through the open door, saw that there was but one narrow +window inside, opening over a sheer descent of rocks. "It is quite natural +that you should love Jane and wish to defend her, as you knew her when she +was a child," he said, raising his voice that she might hear. "But you do +not understand. She married me of her own free will by the bedside of her +dying father. His last act was to give her to me with his blessing. You can +judge whether he would have chosen an unworthy husband for her." + +"'Tain't likely," said Glenn. But his wife shook her head. + +"An hour after his death Jane escaped: left her dead father--left me whom +she loved. The only rational way of accounting for her course is that the +nervous strain had proved too much for her, and that she was temporarily +insane. You can question her whether I have stated the facts correctly." + +The old people glanced doubtfully in at the tall figure standing motionless +at the open window. + +"She don't contradict you in nothin', sir. I'm sorry ef I was onjust to +you," said the old man slowly. + +"I honor you for it! You could have no claim to my friendship as strong as +your affection for my wife." + +"Yes," with deliberation, "we've allays been powerful fond of Jane. But +marriage is marriage. We won't interfere. Them as God hes jined together--" + +Van Ness rose: "I shall take her with me to Asheville. Her mental trouble +may make her seem disinclined to go. But firmness and affectionate care +will soon restore her." He walked to the door: "Come, my dear wife." + +Jane turned and faced him. Her very lips seemed withered: "I have given you +the money." + +"I want _you_." + +Van Ness waited smiling, without a word after that, his white hands held +out. + +"Come, my pretty!" whispered the old woman, stroking her arm soothingly. +"Suppose you don't like him so much at first? You'll grow into it. Hundreds +of women marry without love. You must give up to the law." + +The law, the whole world, were against her. + +Van Ness came closer, step by step, with the inexorable steadiness of Fate +in his eye. Mrs. Glenn drew back and left them alone. + +"You married me." + +"I wanted to give you the money. There was my mistake." + +"You cannot repair it. There is no one to help you." + +She looked out at the bare peaks and the sky near at hand, and raised her +arms, clasping her hands back of her head. Her lips moved. "God will help +me," Van Ness thought he heard her say. + +He put his hand on her shoulder: "Come. We must return to-night, at least +part of the way," with quiet authority. + +He drew her toward him, stooped to kiss her lips. + +At that moment there was a loud knocking at the outer door, and a man and +woman entered. Van Ness saw them. His hand fell from Jane's arm, his +countenance relaxed: for a moment he stood unnerved: then with quick +decision he stepped boldly forward to meet them, drawing to the door of the +chamber behind him. + +"Charlotte?" + +"Yes," with a shrug, "or Princess Trebizoff, Madame Varens, what you +choose. By any other name I am as dear to you. Heavens! what a chase!" +perching herself airily on the settle in front of the fire. "I am one +living ache.--I can't congratulate you on your roads, madam. But your +scenery! Ah, that goes to the heart!" + +Mr. Neckart stood beside her, calmly waiting until Van Ness should turn to +him. The great reformer was brought to bay: he was alert, prompt, ready. + +"You followed me here, Mr. Neckart?" turning sharply. + +"Yes." + +"For what purpose?" + +"To bring your wife to you," glancing at Charlotte. + +"I inferred that was the story which this poor creature had imposed upon +you. Surely, you know her character, Neckart? Why, she has levied blackmail +for years by just such ingenious devices. I did not suppose any statement +of hers would bear a minute's investigation from a shrewd, practical man +like yourself. So she really deceived you, eh?" with a discordant laugh. + +Charlotte, drying her dainty feet at the fire, looked contemptuously over +her shoulder at him. + +"There is no need of any discussion in the matter," said Neckart dryly. "We +are not here to play melodrama. The matter is easily understood. I returned +from Europe last week, and went direct to the Hemlock Farm. From the +servants I heard the details of the forced marriage and of Jane's flight. I +followed her." + +"How did you find her here?" + +"Betty Nichols knew that she was coming." + +"Damn her! She hid it from me, her husband!" + +Neckart stepped hastily forward, then controlled himself and drew back: +"She had given the route to Charlotte also. I overtook her at Baltimore. +She had stopped to obtain legal proof of your marriage to her in 1847. We +followed an hour behind you from Richmond." + +Even in this imminent moment Van Ness secretly wondered how this passionate +brute of a Neckart held himself in check and talked coolly to the man who +had stolen from him the woman that he loved. It would have been in +character for him to tear his life out, like Bruno. But this was admirable +self-command! It really gratified Van Ness's taste, tottering on the verge +of ruin as he was. The truth was, that Neckart was conscious of little else +than that Jane was in the hut. The rage against this scoundrel which had +maddened him through the long journey had strangely died out. He had not +harmed her. He was like a fangless snake, to be trampled under foot at any +moment. + +But she was there! He had caught a glimpse of the proud, delicate head and +its crown of yellow hair behind the door as Van Ness closed it. + +The door moved. It opened, and she came out among them. Neckart rose, his +head bent upon his breast. He was deaf and blind for the time--could not +tell whether she spoke to him or not. + +She went directly up to Van Ness: "I am not your wife?" + +He cowered for a moment. Then, rapidly shifting his defence, he stood up, +benevolent, impregnable: "I do not deny that I was once married to this +woman. It was a mad error of my youth, long since repented of. I was +divorced from her last June." + +"Ta, ta, Pliny, take care!" interrupted Charlotte. "The application for +divorce was not made until after your marriage to Miss Swendon. I told you +you would not risk a criminal trial for her sake. But I underrated your +affection. You did it." + +"Then I am free?" said Jane. + +"You are free," said Charlotte. + +Jane turned to the door and went into the open air without a word. + +"I took a good deal of trouble to come here," resumed Charlotte, brushing +some dust from her flounces, "to tell her that. I shouldn't have done it +for any other woman. But you remember that day when I was shamming death, +how she kissed me, Pliny? I didn't forget that kiss." + +Van Ness stood silent, hesitating. The firelight shone upon his tall +figure, the dainty gray clothes, the shining stone, like a watchful evil +eye, upon his breast. He was a perfect presentation of prosperity and +peace. He looked at Neckart, but he was looking through the open door at a +slight figure moving among the rocks. + +Van Ness rubbed his hands softly. "I do not see," he said with unctuous +precision, "that further discussion will be of any use in this matter. I +was evidently mistaken as to point of time in the divorce. No one who knows +me will suspect me of any worse error than a mistake. I will accompany you +to Asheville, Charlotte, with pleasure. I owe you no grudge for the bitter +wrong you have done me." + +Charlotte rose and laughed good-naturedly: "You have your virtues, no +doubt, Pliny. So have I. I always thought we were well mated. Shall we +continue one? You may have to fall back upon my blackmailing devices, after +all. I forgot to tell you that there was an inquiry last week into the +disposition of the funds entrusted to you for the Home for Friendless +Children, and that they were reported _nil_." + +For the first time in his life Van Ness blenched. The story of the marriage +could be smothered. But this was total ruin. + +"The sooner you go the better," said the hunter, tapping him on the +shoulder. "Ef I understand right, you're not the kind of man as ought to +pizen these mountings long." + +Van Ness moved heavily to the door. But he turned on the threshold with a +sickly smile: "I forgive you your rudeness, my friend. It is not my nature +to bear malice.--Farewell, Mr. Neckart. You have mistaken my motives in +this matter. But I shall think of you kindly.--I shall bear you all to the +throne of grace in my prayers." He shook his hand as if scattering +blessings, and went out with a lofty step and head erect. + +Charlotte lingered and went up to Neckart. + +"You are going to cling to that poor wretch?" he said. + +"Well, he's down now, you see. There's nobody but me to stay by him. And I +can always draw on him when I'm out of funds." + +"You will remember what I told you of the school in Indiana? You could live +in respectability and comfort; bring your boy home too." + +"My boy? Home?" Her eyes filled with tears. "These are very tempting words, +Mr. Neckart. But oh-h! Respectability is such a bore! I must go my own gait +to the end;" and with a merry laugh and shrug she followed Van Ness. + +When they were out of sight down the gorge, Neckart rose and went slowly +out to the cleft in the rock where the girl sat alone. + +"Jane," he said, "the way is open between us at last. Will you come to me?" + + * * * * * + +I cannot write Finis to the story of any of these people. They are all +alive to-day, and the current of each life goes on with very little change. + +You may still see Van Ness on the platform at all large religious or +benevolent meetings in the great cities. There was much talk of the missing +funds, but he quieted it satisfactorily. Cynical reporters throw out hints +of ugly shadows in his life, but his disciples gather more solidly about +him, trust their souls to his direction and their money to his pockets. +Simple followers of Jesus fear to condemn a light which shines so +splendidly in the market-place, and men who are not His followers accept it +as Christianity, and damn the religion as spurious and a fraud. + +Charlotte is just now the successful leader of an English opera-bouffe +company which is travelling in the West. She gave the proceeds of her +benefit in every town to the poor last winter, which was supposed by all +respectable people to be an advertising trick. But it was not. The little +woman would do more than that to buy herself an entrance into the heaven +where her boy is going. She would do anything, in fact, but lead a decent +life. + +Miss Fleming is still in Rome. She belongs to the modern school which +regards the nice reproduction of drapery and dry goods as the highest art. +She sends home pictures, which sometimes gain a place by sufferance in a +dark corner at the spring exhibition. + +Mr. Neckart once bought one, a _Lady's Toilette_. + +"A fair specimen of the millinery cult," he said, showing it to Judge +Rhodes, "Poor Cornelia! Why is it that she never, even by chance, paints a +clean-minded woman?" He sent a cheque for double the price asked for it. +But he threw the picture on the market again, not wishing to take it home. +He had married a singularly clean-minded woman. + +Cornelia's first impulse was to send the cheque back. But, instead, she +bought a ring with a single costly ruby in it, and has worn it ever since, +though she has been hungry for bread many a time. Hungry or not, she makes +her studio one of the pleasantest resorts for the young artists in Rome. +She has cut her hair short, wears a jaunty velvet coat and man's collar: +her arms are bony, but she bares them, and still shoots languishing glances +from out of the crowsfeet. The young men laugh to each other. "A good +fellow, Corny," they say, "but what a pity that she is not a man!" + +The Home for Friendless Children is at last a reality in New York, though +Van Ness is not a director. It was established by the editor Neckart, whose +wife, it is said, endowed it with her own fortune. This charitable deed +left them with but a very moderate competency. Neckart managed to buy in +the Hemlock Farm, out of his income, for her and the boy. + +He drives them over once a week to see the children in the Home, each of +whom Jane knows and tries to spoil. + +"You are glad that we made this act of reparation, Jane?" he said to her +one day. + +"Reparation?" She hesitated, and then said, "I know that I made many +mistakes when I was a law to myself. You are my law now, Bruce." + +"But you are satisfied that it was right to give back the money?" he +insisted. + +"Oh, of course! The money was unlucky! It made you uncomfortable too. And I +look on it as a free gift from Swendon here to the poor little babies," +taking her boy on her knee and stroking his curls. "But," she added in a +low voice, "the money was mine. I was quite right when I burned the will." + +Neckart laughed good-humoredly, and touched the horses with his whip. There +is no man living who loves his wife more tenderly; and Jane is the most +simple and prosaic of women. Yet there are times when she seems, even to +him, a woman whose acquaintance he has scarcely made, and whom he can never +hope to know better. + +REBECCA HARDING DAVIS + + + + +OUIDA'S NOVELS. + + +For a number of years the novels of Ouida have been the delight of their +readers and the scorn and laughing stock of reviewers. Every new volume +that has appeared has given a thrill of occasionally guilty delight to +those whose studies are confined to the shelves of the circulating library, +while critics have beaten the air with their attacks against this writer's +frequent coarseness of tone, her hodge-podge of learning, and the superfine +elegance which makes the air of most of her stories so heavy and +enervating. Nothing could show more thoroughly the futility of criticism +than the powerlessness of all the evil-minded notices of her many books. +The reviewer may have spoken words of wisdom that would have honored +Solomon, but the public did not care how inaccurate Ouida's Latin +quotations and classical references were: they were entertained by her +novels, and disregarded him who denounced her, just as those who are +running to a house where they will hear music, breathe perfumes and see +fine dresses pass by the hungry man who stands outside shaking his fist and +growling at pleasure-seekers. People who are anxious to waltz do not care +to stop and discuss with political economists the advisability of giving up +luxuries, nor to hear the band begin the best of Beethoven's symphonies: +they want to hear the opening notes of one of Strauss's compositions. The +same love of amusement is at the root of all novel-reading--unless indeed +it be a feeling of social duty which brings so many readers to George +Eliot's novels--and Ouida is pretty sure to give her admirers a full dose +of highly-seasoned entertainment which cannot fail to please unsensitive +palates. + +The materials with which she brews her fiery and somewhat heady draughts +are almost monotonously alike. Her heroes are beauteous, long-limbed, +silky-haired, graceful men: if the scene is laid in England, they are +generally officers, always of high family and terribly dissipated. Beneath +a quiet, courteous demeanor they hide passionate feeling, indomitable +bravery and great capacity for friendship. They are adorned by every vice, +and are consequently loved by every woman. As for the women, who except +Ouida can describe them? They are faultlessly beautiful, exceedingly +headstrong and full of fascinating peccadilloes. Next to the _beaux +sabreurs_ come the gifted artists, and alongside of the wicked ladies of +rank appear the ladies without rank, but with every other charm of the +sinful sort. Brandy and soda, hock and seltzer and cigarettes almost +deserve mention among the _dramatis personae_: they serve to delight her +aristocracy, and for the aristocracy Ouida has a most plebeian esteem. Its +faults are virtues in disguise: gambling away a large fortune in a night is +heroism; faithlessness in love is its first duty; anything like decorum is +the most "caddish" Philistinism. These being Ouida's literary principles, +and also the delight of her readers, it is easy to see how absolutely +useless would be any solemn attempt to prove that there is anything good in +the world except wickedness. Ouida has pages of pseudo-rhythmical soliloquy +in which she alleges the truth of her statements about lords and ladies, +but, whether true or false, there is a charm to her readers in her flowery +account of what their social betters do. Scandal never fails of a listener, +and who can serve such huge banquets of scandal as will Ouida at a moment's +notice? She offers no mere crumb that has dropped from a rich table, but a +mass that concerns every duke and duchess and earl and countess in the +peerage. Victor Hugo has taught a docile generation the power of the +melodrama, and Ouida, an apt pupil, has written in English the most violent +protests against human beings as they are, and has encouraged the use of +exaggeration in the representation of life. She employs the much-abused +method of contrast. She draws a man who is stained with every vice, and to +outweigh his crying faults she makes him tell the truth under difficult +circumstances, or keep a promise, or possibly do a generous action, and the +reader, who has admired the hero at his worst, thrills with fervent pride +in his colossal right-doing at last. + +The air of worldly wisdom with which her books are filled is another +powerful attraction. Persons who know so much about wickedness must have, +it would seem, a rare knowledge of human life and human beings; and the +poor reader, whose worst notion of vice is working embroidery on Sunday, +has forced down her throat stenographic reports of the talk in demireps' +parlors, with occasional interludes in which the author charges her critics +with squeamishness for objecting to her parade on the dung-hills of life. +But it is useless to make too much mention of her faults. She is like most +of the writers who reject all limitations and say they must describe people +as they are, and then seek in the mire for people to write about. + +Putting aside the question of the impropriety which taints by no means all +her work, it is well to find what constitutes her power in other +directions. She has a large following, and many who utterly condemn her +gross faults are very anxious to read her new books as fast as they appear. +In the first place, she has a good deal of real power. It is not accuracy, +or refinement, or the accomplishment of much by moderate means, but a great +accumulation of effective points, that carries the reader through her +books. It is not a man whom she takes for a hero, but a picturesque +combination of attractive failings, united with an impossible beauty and +grace. It is a vulgar ideal that she worships, and it is vulgarer in fact +than as she sees it; but she worships it with positive adoration, and she +warms the reader with something of her own fervor. She is in earnest, and +she has the gift of expression, often of tawdry, bombastic expression, but +often powerful and impressive. + +Take _Chandos_, for instance: it is the melodrama run mad. Chandos belongs +to one of the best families in England; he has genius in all directions; he +writes books that sell as only very good and very poor books sell; he is as +beautiful as the figures that adorn tailors' patterns; his wealth seems +boundless; in immorality Don Juan was but a blundering schoolboy by his +side. This cold description does him no manner of justice: any one who +knows Ouida's novels will readily recall the type, and he stands head and +shoulders above the rest. He warms a snake in his bosom in the guise of a +friend, who manages his affairs and leads the lordly Chandos to total +bankruptcy. The languid voluptuary goes out into the world and knows every +kind of suffering: at length, twenty years afterward, he is restored to his +rights, and by a magnanimous effort he pardons the treacherous friend, who, +he finds, is his illegitimate brother, and all ends well. But the reader's +feelings are reached in a way that no one would suspect from this meagre +statement. Chandos lives in halls of porphyry, and does everything for the +man who betrays him; he is absolutely above suspicion, just as the other +man is without a scrap of virtue or kindliness; and the contrast between +his high and his low estate is done in black and white, with lights and +shadows as distinct as if the book had been written under a calcium flame. +That the book has considerable crude force cannot be denied even by those +who are ready to sneer most loudly at its glaring faults. By dint of +exaggerating virtues and vices the author dulls for a time the inevitable +revolt of the reader against such unnatural representations of life. This +story--or it may be other readers have been struck by some other of the +series--impresses itself upon the memory for a time, just as a play would +in which we seem to see a man jump out of a third-story window, but in both +cases we should be inclined to question the author's respect for +literature. All such work is like scene-painting, but if a man prefers +gazing at chromo-lithographs to visiting the Pitti Gallery, he cannot be +talked out of his tastes. + +The reaction against realism shows itself now-a-days in many curious ways. +Alongside of an intense devotion to science there flourishes the vulgarest +superstition regarding the occupations and intellectual capacity of +departed spirits, and the imagination of the present day finds its frequent +expression in coarse melodrama. But even for the melodrama Ouida, clever as +she is, lacks one important element--namely, a sense of humor. There is a +monotonous seriousness in her stories, and frequently an unrelieved pathos, +which is in direct violation of the law that commands grotesqueness and +misery to be put in close antithesis by the writer who is anxious to win +fame. The airy _badinage_ of some of her characters is singularly void of +lightness and frolicsomeness. Their unfailing cynicism alone makes good +this noticeable deficiency. This fault distinguishes Ouida very clearly +from Dumas and Victor Hugo, for Dumas's high spirits seldom failed him, +while Victor Hugo combines contrasting qualities in his novel as carefully +as if he were making a salad. But Ouida can relieve the strain she makes +upon her readers' feelings only by a profuse display of worldly wisdom. +Every-day experience shows that vulgar, unrelieved cynicism is an +easily-learned accomplishment: any credulous person, inclined to gossip and +ashamed of being thought decorous, can be hand and glove with Ouida in a +very short time, although it is by no means every one who out of such +tawdry material can weave a story that shall be generally interesting. The +double nature of this writer is an instance of a rather rare combination. +She can be as vulgar as a gossiping dressmaker with a keen love of scandal, +and yet she has a vein of poetical sensitiveness, of strong feeling, which +stands in strange contrast with her heavy-handed cynicism. In fact, she +gilds in her own fashion the crudest display of coarseness and selfishness. +Possibly it is too much to say that she _gilds_: she hangs round with +tinsel all sorts of subjects, over which she rejoices as a raw schoolboy +rejoices over his first cigar; and this with an infantile delight in her +own _savoir vivre_ and an ecstatic vain-glory in her faults which throw +real merits into the shade. + +A melodramatic imagination--by which is meant a proneness to look at things +as Ouida looks at them, an inclination to see crude picturesqueness of +effect--apparently fills its owner or victim with the most puffed-up pride. +Anything like moderation or exactness is despised, good workmanship is +regarded as the plodding of stupidity, and all chance of cultivating what +talents the writer may have is thrown over to find place for strong effect. +All of Ouida's desultory reading seems to have taught her nothing except +that by heaping up agonizing incidents a point will be reached at last when +even the most hardened reader will have to succumb and give his sympathy to +much-persecuted innocence or to fascinating guilt; and her power of +inventing harrowing scenes is practically unlimited. So many writers are +cold and unlifelike that Ouida's exaggeration seems to many a most +pardonable fault, so far indeed as it seems to be a fault. Her perpetual +references to the classics probably appear to the ignorant reader like the +profoundest lore: her chatter about French literature, especially about +books seldom discussed in mixed company, furthers this delusion. Indeed, it +is pitiable to go through one of her novels and pick out the rubbish she +collects and sets in order for the delight of an eager public. Here are +some gems from _In a Winter City_. The present condition of Florence, +disguised as Floralia, is thus compared with its past glories: "It is +Belisarius turned croupier to a gaming-table; it is Caesar selling cigars +and newspapers; it is Apelles drawing for the _Albums pour Rire_; it is +Pindar rhyming the couplets for _Fleur de The_; it is Praxiteles designing +costumes for a calico ball; it is Phidias forming the poses of a ballet." +That gem is on the first page of the book, which is more like a tenth-rate +French novel than any English story that has appeared for some time. + +Here are a few lines from _Chandos_, describing the revels of the +aristocracy in a "summer villa at Richmond belonging to him [the hero, of +course], where most of these Bohemian dinners and suppers _a la Regence_ +were given--a charming place, half covered in flowering trees and pyramids +of May blossoms,... with the daintiest and cosiest banqueting-room in the +world, hung with scarlet silk, drawn back here and there to show some +beautiful picture by Titian, Greuze, Regnault or La Tour; large enough to +hold twenty people, but small enough to fill _a huis clos_ like a cabinet; +with the air scented by dreamy incenses and dishes and wines under the +mellowed light that would have entranced even Lucullus had he been throned +there on his ivory chair.... + +"'The art of life is--to enjoy!' cried Chandos that night, lifting up to +crown the sentiment a deep glass of glowing red Roussillon. + +"'Toast worthy of Lucullus and Ovid! and you are a master of the science,' +said John Trevenna, who was perhaps the only one who saw quite clearly +through that intoxicating atmosphere of pastilles, and perfumes, and wines, +and crushed flowers, and bruised fruits, and glancing tresses, and languid +eyes, and lips fit for the hymns of a Catullus. + +"'He is the darling of the gods!' cried Flora de l'Orme, that magnificent +Arlesienne, with her melting, Greek-like glance, and her cheek like a peach +in the sun, while she leaned over him and twisted, Catullus-like, in the +bright masses of his long, golden hair a wreath of crimson roses washed in +purple Burgundy." + +Probably, if the pink-cheeked beauties on glove- and handkerchief-boxes +could be filled with the breath of life, and be set down in a land of which +the only authentic representations are those on a drop-curtain, this is the +way they would talk and act; and the same refined taste that goes to the +painting of such figures and scenery is manifested in the production of +such literature as makes up the bulk of many of Ouida's novels. + +And yet a writer who so handicaps herself with vulgarity and actual +indecency and the grossest snobbishness has underneath that unattractive +varnish a fervent passion that is at least impressive. While revelling in +such scenes as made the notoriety of the author of _Guy Livingstone_, she +has touches of real pathos, over-wrought possibly, but cold in comparison +with her absurdest writings. In _Signa_, for instance, the whole story of +Bruno's love for his betrayed sister's child has certain elements of +fineness which atone for much of the rubbish swept into some of Ouida's +earlier novels. The book is not one for the Sunday-school library, nor will +any one be injured by not reading it, but there is more ability in it than +one will find in a great many books by more discreetly-admired writers. It +is a romance of a kind not over common in English fiction, and it forms a +grateful change from the arid records of the cool love-making of English +curates and home-bred young women as sung by this writer's contemporaries. +The book has the faults that surely mark an untrained writer, but there is +nothing petty in it: indeed, there is a generous breadth of treatment which +shows most strongly how Ouida's natural gifts, which had been wasted by +glorifying club-talk and midnight suppers, blossomed forth under the +influence of Italy. She was possessed by its charm, and inspired by it to +put all her new feeling into this story of passion. There is no trace of +the confining bounds that had previously kept her busy turning over +unworthy material: she spoke out boldly; and if this is not a great book, +it is at least a book with some of the qualities of greatness in it. +Indeed, it is of a sort that makes one regret that the author had not been +exposed to more favorable influences: wiser blame and more temperate praise +might possibly have freed her from the faults that show their head even +here much more than is desirable. But what is fine in it is something no +one could have taught her--the sympathy with ambitious youth, the struggle +for fame on the part of the hero, his uncle's stern nature, and the +cleverness with which some of the lesser characters are drawn: all these +things, which are to be found beneath the facile sing-song of the prose and +the perpetual exaggeration of everything good as well as of everything bad, +are surely the proof of rare original power. Her very excellence at times +serves but to make the reader impatient with her faults, which more than +anything are _vulgar_; and genius and vulgarity do not agree well. + +But her good qualities are best seen in some of her short stories, and most +of all in those collected in a single volume entitled _Leaf in the Storm, +and Other Stories_, the others being entitled "A Dog of Flanders," "A +Branch of Lilac," and "A Provence Rose;" all of which first appeared in +_Lippincott's Magazine_. These are free from the faults of taste which so +generally mar her work, although at times the reader comes on exaggerated +touches which lessen rather than intensify the pathos; but on the whole it +is impossible not to admire, and to admire warmly, the author's power. +Ouida here shows her true feeling, and feeling is not over-abundant in +contemporary fiction. There is plenty of acute observation, clever +description and more or less good-natured satire, but all these things are +slight and meagre by the side of strong and genuine feeling. The greatest +novel-writer will combine both, and will not sacrifice one to the other; +but only too often Ouida throws aside actual and imaginary probability for +the sake of melodramatic effect. Of these short tales just mentioned, the +one giving its name to the book and "A Branch of Lilac" are especially to +be mentioned with respect, and they justify almost any amount of wrath on +the part of the reader with the author's excessive abuse of her gifts. In +her reaction against conventionality and everything that is humdrum she +continually falls into worse pitfalls, but here she is really tragic and +really pathetic. In three of these tales she draws the sufferings of +struggling genius, which she is fond of describing, though she has never +done it so well as here; and in two of them, "A Dog of Flanders" and "A +Provence Rose," she combines in the story unusual ingredients, one being +told by a rose that witnesses the incidents, while in the other the dog's +feelings are set forth at great length. This is always a difficult thing to +do; and it is to be noticed that in both disguises we find Ouida under +other names, but yet there is enough that is touching in the treatment to +dispel harsh criticism. This is not the only time that Ouida has introduced +this transmigration of souls into her books, for _Puck_ is a story told by +a dog, but unfortunately the dog has the author's ineradicable preference +for low company, and a sort of nineteenth-century Moll Flanders has an +undue prominence in the book. _Bebee_, on the other hand, reminds the +reader of the innocent short tales: it is a charming little story without +the ambitious tawdriness of the longer romances. _In a Winter City_, again, +reeks with fashionable follies and is written in Ouida's most approved +worst style. + +_Ariadne_, the latest of her novels, shows in many ways a marked +improvement over her earlier work. The story is an admirably invented one: +almost every incident is of course crammed with pathos, while the main plot +is exceedingly touching. It is supposed to be narrated by an accomplished +Roman cobbler, who is a sound critic of art as well as an expert repairer +of shoes. He comes across one day a young girl of great beauty who has been +wonderfully educated in the classics by her father, and who now, after her +parent's death, has come to Rome to find her grandfather, a miserly Jew. +This unnatural grandfather drives her from his door, and the cobbler, +finding her in great misery, offers her his room, when she at once falls +sick, while he lives in his stall. When she has recovered she begins to +carve statues--her father had been a sculptor--and these coming to the +sight of a great French artist, Maryx by name, he makes her his pupil. +Gradually her teacher comes to love her, but there appears on the stage a +great poet, Hilarion--there is never any lack of greatness in these +novels--who is faultlessly beautiful and whom every woman infalliby loves +at sight. Of course, Ariadne is not an exception, so that one day Maryx and +the cobbler are surprised to find that Hilarion and she have run away +together. It would be unnecessary to describe the book too closely from +this point: it is enough to say that Hilarion soon wearies of her, while +she never changes in her feeling toward him. When she is deserted in Paris +the cobbler goes there and brings her back to Rome, when Maryx learns again +the hopelessness of his love, and later Hilarion shoots him in a duel. +After a time Ariadne dies broken-hearted, just as Hilarion has learned +really to love her, so that he survives to mourn hopelessly the evil he has +done. However this may sound in a cold abstract, it cannot be denied that +the reader receives a deep impression of the tragedy which is the subject +of the book. Ouida never fails to supply the tragic element in great +abundance, but here it is given us not on the writer's mere assertion, but +with such exposition of the characters as marks some of her later stories, +but is perhaps more prominent here than elsewhere. The heroine, for +instance, is well drawn: her intensity and purity, and indeed her genius, +are all clearly brought before the reader. It is something rare to conceive +such a character, but it is infinitely rarer to find any definite image of +it conveyed by a writer to any one else. To be sure, this is done with a +great waste of purple ink, but yet there are touches which indicate not +power alone, but also that acuteness of observation and intelligent +knowledge of method which are needed to give even great power its value. +Maryx too is well represented, and everywhere, even when the captious would +complain of too much melodrama, there are scenes and bits of talk that are +good because they are natural. In time justice will be done to the ability +of a writer who, when the short-hand report of talk over tea-cups was the +fashion, was able to rise above such mechanical handiwork and write a story +full of passion. Faulty, tawdry and theatrical as much of Ouida's writing +is, she does know--and knowing she at times describes--genuine passion, as +she has done here. Much as she has spun out the tale, it is a fine one, and +an admirable example of her best side. The revenge that Ariadne makes in +carving a statue of Hilarion as he seemed to her, so that even he felt some +shame at his inferiority to her conception of him, is impressive. The way, +too, in which Rome is kept as a background for all the events described is +worthy of notice. But here as elsewhere the main fault is this, which is +best described in her own characteristic language: "How one wishes that +they had told us the fate of Nausicaa! When she leaned against the pillar +and bade her farewell to the great wanderer, we know her heart was heavy: +never again could she play by the shore glad-hearted with her maidens: when +she had passed, that day, out between the silver dogs of Hephaestus, through +the west wind and the pomegranate-blossoms, to the sea, she had left her +happy youth behind her. So much we feel sure of, but we would fain know +more. Were it a modern poem, how it would be amplified! how much we should +hear of her conflict of silence and sorrow! No modern would have the +coldness to leave her there, leaning against the column in Alcinoeus's hall, +and never add a word of her fate. But that is our weakness: we cannot +'break off the laurel-bough' shortly and sharply, unburnt, as they did of +old." + +Not only is she unable to "break off the laurel-bough:" she decks it with +gewgaws and tinsel; she sets the reader's teeth on edge with references to +the "Scipii" and to the "gens Quintilii," and never lets pass a chance to +bring some bit of ancient or mediaeval Roman history into the story, which +is also weighed down with superfluous sentiment. It would be hard to find a +writer more affected by the "weakness" of redundant description and +expression. Then, too, the glorification of all her characters, her way of +giving them unlimited wealth, beauty or genius, is like that play of the +imagination of children which they exhibit by talking of the time when they +will be rich and will give one another hundreds of thousands of dollars. +Every one of the longer novels is marred by this fictitious extravagance: +it is in her short stories alone that she manages to touch the earth, and +in them her pathos is genuine and direct. + +THOMAS SERGEANT PERRY. + + + + +A KENTUCKY DUEL. + +TWO PARTS.--II. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +When Walter Brown heard of the delicacy of his clerk in keeping the name of +his family out of that foolish altercation, and saw the masterly summary he +had made of the business confided to his hand, the bold operator in pork +recognized a value in his clerk. To his remonstrances Bob said, "It's a +closed account, sir, and I must pay the balances. If I let the police +interfere, I shall have a dozen rows on hand, and could not manage the +roughs in the yard." + +But, though Mr. Brown saw that he could not interfere without injuring +Bob's reputation, he resolved that she who had made the quarrel should stop +it. He sent the dowager, packed with her prejudices, to the police +magistrate. "Hold up your hand. You swear L. B. Mason, Esq., and ---- +Nettles contemplate a breach of the peace?" said the judge. + +"I can't swear of my own knowledge," said she. "It is incredible a nettles +"--with a small _n_--"should meet a Brown," with a four-line pica _B_. And +it did seem incredible to the august dowager. + +"Really, madam, we have nothing to found a warrant upon," said the +court.--"Show the lady out, and call the next case." + +In fact, as decided in _Ex-parte Jones_, the right of personal redress was +recognized by law in Kentucky, and an elective judiciary cared neither to +ignore nor acknowledge the case. But in going out she heard a policeman +make some reference to the duel in conversing with a comrade. + +"Of what were you speaking just now?" asked the dowager. + +"Of a little game between a low-down dead-beat and a gent," said the +policeman. + +"If I understand you," said the dowager, "I am glad to find such correct +feeling in men of your class." + +"Oh, it's so on the Force," said the man. "Short-stop is quite a favo-rite +with the tip-toppers. You may ha' heerd o' him. T'other's a sort o' +stool-pigeon--name Mason. They do say as a rich aunt o' his'n got him into +it. Blest if she'll get much of him out of it when Nettles is done with +him! Why, Nettles beats professionals!--Now, boy, you going to drive your +missis' carriage, or shall I? This ain't no place to scrouge about and +stare." + +Aunt Fanny sank back astounded. Was she a Moabitish mother who had +sacrificed her nephew to a professional duellist? "Drive to Lawyer +Winnett's," she said--"quick!" + +"Your information was sufficient," said the lawyer with that contempt the +profession has for irregular police proceedings, "but the code is a bastard +child of the law. If you had a warrant the officers would not execute it." + +"But," said the dowager, brought face to face with a family prejudice in +favor of the code, "it is too horrible to suppose that peace-officers will +stand coolly by and see homicide contemplated and executed without +interference." + +"True, nevertheless," said the lawyer, too familiar with contradictions of +the law to regard it. "But, in fact, I wished to speak to you of your +nephew's affairs. Captain Mason sent a schedule of his liabilities this +morning, saying you had authorized their settlement. I don't regard Captain +Mason's stories usually, but there was something about a family marriage +included, which, knowing your wishes, I think justifies me in referring to +it." + +"The wretch!" said his aunt. "I have authorized nothing of the kind." + +"No? Well, excuse my reference to it. It just occurred to me if such an +arrangement was contemplated we might kill two birds with one stone." + +"How?" asked the dowager. "I want this atrocious duel stopped. The rabble +have my name mixed in it, as if I counselled or approved. I am shocked at +it, and it must be stopped at any cost." + +"Of course," said the lawyer, his professional coolness contrasting with +the dowager's fierce temper. "I might buy up Captain Mason's notes in the +hands of Walker or Levi, and have him arrested in civil proceedings as +about to leave the State to avoid his creditors. That writ would go into +the hands of the sheriff, and I do not doubt its execution. Captain Mason's +credit is such at present he cannot find security. If necessary, I could +put on some others," looking over the schedule. "I have no doubt it will +hold him until the matter is stopped. If you instruct me to that effect, +you can go home, madam, and leave it to me." + +How refreshing it was to meet a practical, sound head in all that +confusion! Much relieved, Aunt Fanny hurried home to comfort Sudie, just +wakened to grief by her father's visit. + +The dowager's appreciation of the shrewd lawyer's hypothesis was heightened +almost immediately by a visit from Wylde Payne with a note from her nephew +soliciting pecuniary assistance. The dowager fairly clapped her hands. It +began to assume all the interest of a race or a match game at whist. "We +shall take every trick, child," said she; "and this Mister Payne, my +overseer's grandson, who made all this trouble, shall be laid by the heels +to begin with." + +She kept him in the anteroom while she despatched a swift messenger to her +lawyer asking for a policeman to take Payne into custody. Lind Mason's +second, it will be observed, had had every assurance that his principal was +fighting his aunt's quarrel, and looked for no small share of commendation +for his own zeal and services. He had time to hear the regular movements of +a great household revolving about the pivotal dinner-hour before he rang a +second time. Then the mulatto maid, Memmie, appeared: "This way, sah. Yalla +Memmie done knowed ye when ye could tie you'se'f in a cawnah o' yo' +pock't-hankchah and put yo'se'f in yo' pock't." + +Pondering on such precocious jugglery of his early years, he was ushered +into the dowager's boudoir, where she sat with Sudie and ma'amselle. + +"Be seated, Mr. Payne," she said with that royal gesture of command +habitual to power in her sphere. "I am glad to see you. You are at the +bottom of this bloody business." + +Payne took breath as from a sudden douche, and began a speech conned over +in the carriage: "In a crisis involving the honor of a noble family--" + +"I know the false and criminal jargon by which you justify your barbarous +code," interrupted the haughty dowager. "It lacks that manly directness I +require in all who address me. Why, sir, did you avail yourself of a +quick-tempered old woman's hasty words to force her wretched nephew into +wicked folly? How dared you intercept my messenger?" sharply, as if at a +new and sudden offence just sprung. + +All this was astounding to Payne as the caresses of a tigress; but his too +was a bold, high temper when aroused, and he retorted: "Madam, if you +desire your nephew to be kicked and cuffed and driven from his cousin's +house, it cannot be as Wylde Payne's friend. Your messenger was excluded by +Captain Mason's orders, he having matters more important in hand than the +intermeddling of a lady who had forced him into this business, but who now +makes a merit of deserting him and abusing those who decline to act as +treacherously." + +The hot shot went home to the magazine, for the dowager rose blazing: "I +know you for murder's lackey, and the cheap notoriety you seek, at the cost +of your friend's courage and life, as the witness of his assassination, +ready to testify it was well and fairly done--the base policeman of murder, +to guard guilt in its guiltiness as the law protects the innocent in +innocency. But you shall not escape: mark that!" + +"I am responsible for my actions and easy to find," said Payne. "I scorn a +law that presumes to enter into my feelings and judge the measure of my +wounded honor." + +"Weigh your words well," said the dowager--"you who presume to sit in +judgment on the honor of a Brown! Public opinion is ripe to break the +shackles of this vile code. No mail of chivalry protects the second who +stands coolly by, a participant and accessory without risk or danger, to +justify the black murder done on his bosom friend. When wealth and social +influence are thrown into the scale against one who caught up a rash +woman's hasty word, as hastily repented, we shall know what the law thinks +of one who excluded her messenger of peace and pressed his victim on to the +murdering-ground." + +Angry as she was, the old lady was putting her points well. Payne's +position was already very equivocal. Common rumor presented him as forcing +that Boabdil Mason to the mark; but he answered contemptuously, "You have +already appealed to the law, and know the result." + +"I do," interrupted the dowager, crumpling the lawyer's unread note in her +hand. "You will find your friend's quarters in the Louisville jail, and a +policeman at the door to escort you to him." + +Payne rose hastily and left the room without ceremony. + +"Oh, aunty!" said little Sue, who had listened to the roar of great guns in +awe and terror, "it will make you sick." + +"Sick!" said the dowager, looking almost real in her affected youth with +congenial excitement: "it is life, child. But let us see what Winnett +says." + +Before reading the lawyer's note let us follow Payne. The reader will +understand that Mason was now in the condition of Ivanhoe after his wager +with the Templar of the precious reliquary, and before he was relieved by +the gratitude of Isaac of York. He lacked the means to get to his Ashby de +la Zouche. But at Payne's rueful face in telling of his interview with the +dowager the graceless scamp threw his fat figure on the bed, cracking his +sides with laughter. + +"I don't see the fun," said Payne sulkily. "I wish I was well out of it. +The dowager talked devilish strong." + +"If my aunt won't help us," said Mason, "my uncle will. You must just take +my stop-watch to the three balls. + + Farewell to my golden repeater! + We've come to my uncle's old shop!" + +Payne was just leaving when a voice in the next room stopped him. "It's +that infernal pawnbroker," said he in a rage. + +The man came in, smooth, civil, obsequious. "I thought you'd like to have +this thing off your mind," said he, presenting a note of Mason's. + +The two looked at each other blankly. + +"See here, Levison," said Mason coaxingly: "you know my aunt will settle +all these things, and I want money right now. Payne was just going to see +you." + +"She'll pay some--not this," said the man coolly. "In fact, I am just from +Winnett's. He has paid Levi and Walker"--at which Mason stared--"and taken +out a writ in summary proceedings. In fact, I come to warn you, and one +good turn deserves another: pay it and go." + +Mason by chaffering got a small sum on his watch over the debt. He was +clear at last. Payne had left, and Mason was taking a final drink at the +bar when a man tapped his shoulder. Aunt Fanny had played her trump and +won: it was the sheriff. + +"All right!" said Levison, laughing. "Whenever you _have_ anything, you +know, I am accommodating, but--" + +We can now return and read Aunt Fanny's correspondence. + + +CHAPTER V. + +When the lawyer's note, by anticipation, announced the arrest described in +the last chapter, Aunt Fanny, like an old spirit of the turf, began to +groom for that other match. I declare it was not an unlovely sight to see +the two women, youth and its affectation, wrapping arms about each other in +joyous mood over this double victory. + +The dowager took occasion to praise her nephew's gallantry, the chivalry +that prompted him to take up an old woman's quarrel, with hints that the +other party, even if his rhymes had been unintentional, betrayed a rudeness +that ill became the Vere de Vere. Perhaps this part, as it included little +Sue, had as well have been left out, but Aunt Fanny had her points to make, +and always played a bold, high game. + +As the two sang paeans of victory another note came from the lawyer, which +quite altered the complexion of things. That ready gamester, Lind Mason, +had played again and completely turned the tables on Aunt Fanny, using her +own weapons to wrench victory from her: + +"DEAR MRS. BROWN: I regret to say your nephew and his accomplice Levison +have played us a scoundrelly trick. Levison came to me and proposed to bail +your nephew. Not knowing the parties were in collusion, and satisfied that +your nephew was in the sheriff's custody, I tried to put Levison off. But +he told me coolly that he knew my object was to detain Captain Mason--that +if I had taken up his first note for fifty dollars, he might have let this +other one for two hundred and fifty alone; but he must take care of +himself. He intended to bail every writ until his claim was taken up. If I +chose to assume all the captain's liabilities first, very well, but it was +in my discretion to secure him first. No one else would try the same bold +game. Under your instructions, which were peremptory, I had no choice but +to accept the offer; which I did. There was necessarily a minute's interval +in preparing the new writ on Levison's claim, which I sued out at once, +Captain Mason and the sheriff being in the room, and your nephew +acquiescing in the arrangement, as I thought. But he stepped out: the +sheriff went instantly in pursuit by my directions, but with unexampled +effrontery Captain Mason demanded by what authority he was detained. Of +course, as, technically speaking, the writ of arrest was not yet served, +the sheriff could do nothing, and Mason taking the streetcar, the minute's +interval of returning for the writ allowed him to get off. The sheriff has +gone to the ferry and put officers at the bridge and elsewhere, but it is +impossible yet to know the result. + +"We must now seize the other party. I have heard of one Joe Skinner, who +could testify certainly to the contemplated breach of the peace by Mr. +Nettles. If there was any way to detain that gentleman an hour, until the +lawyer could get his hands on Skinner!" + + * * * * * + +"Humph! detain Mr. Nettles!" said the dowager, glancing from the lawyer's +note to the pale, pretty face before her. "You look pale, child: a drive +will help you.--Memmie, have the double racing-buggy and the trotter +Marmette brought to the door." + +"Oh no, aunty," said Sue, shrinking: "it would be wrong while--" While her +lover was going to his death, Sue thought. + +"Pshaw, child!" said the dowager, writing. "We'll see.--Ma'amselle, dress +Miss Sue for a drive; and a touch of rouge, Hortense: she is too pale." + +While the yielding child, ignorant of her aunt's scheme, was being dressed +like a victim for sacrifice, Bob Nettles read the tinted note: + + "DEAR MR. NETTLES: My niece, Susie Brown, tells me you + have an engagement to drive with her this afternoon. + Being unwilling to trust the dear child in a vehicle at + livery, permit an old lady to put one of her buggies + and fast trotters at your service." + +If Bob Nettles had one dearer wish than another, it was to see his little +playmate once more, and make up that dispute before facing her cousin's +pistol. Aunt Fanny's plan of detaining him was likely to thrive. + +Sudie came down, pale and tremulous as a little white withering +rosebud--very pretty and timid and tender. There was a forced smile at +meeting, and but few words. He had intended to say how sorry he was to have +offended her, but he did not. He saw or felt that there was nothing to +forgive between them now. His was but a shallow, practical mind, and she +was only a timid, silly little girl; yet they knew of that unspoken love +between them, and that there was a great trouble, without words. + +The mare stooped to her work and shook herself into a trot, the spokes +whirling into feathery fans down the silvery-dusted pike cityward, and +then, skirting its southern flanks, on golden-cushioned country roads, +rolling smoother and lighter, and the swift wheels growing more wing-like +at top speed; under silver-leafed poplars and lombardies tapering like +road-side steeples; by thoroughfare and farm-gate; under beech and maple +copses and broad oaks on the park-like common; by scarp and counterscarp +and over the smooth glacis of earthworks, memorials of the late war; by +woodlands of ash and beech, and over low fallow of redeemed marsh, right +into the golden eyelashes of the sun. The great summer city lay northward +under its nebulous canopy of dust, a soft hazy picture, dimpled with domes +and spires. By surburban villas; by farmsteads overflowed by the swelling +city; by log churches in cool nooks, contradicting the pretentious +architecture about them; by happy evening lovers, and wives waiting at the +gate for their home-coming husbands; by noisy German gardens, and revellers +in quaint picturesque costumes; by rival coaches, and racing-buggies of the +sporting gentry that tried to pass them, but soon gave out under the black +mare's long, tireless stride; about the great city till the broad river lay +all ablush before them with sunset. And then curving back into town, the +soft dazzle melting into umber; through streets breaking into brilliants of +parallel burners that end in a star, to the utter confusion of geometric +definition; through streets of home-going multitudes, and by open summer +windows showing the spread cloth and tableware; over the hoarse drum-beat +of the bridge, and by the marble palaces of the dead looking cool and +tranquil in the rising moon; winding the shell drive between Osage orange +hedges; and then the half-aerial flight of those wing-like wheels is over +for ever and for ever. + +Then Sudie spoke. She felt she must say something, utter some protest of +her womanhood against that wicked, wicked business: "Mr. Nettles, do you +not think it wrong to fight a duel?" + +"Yes, Miss Sue," said he gravely, "it is a very wicked thing." + +She looked for some equivocation, some excuse or palliation of the wrong, +which she would have to controvert--poor little logician of love!--and show +him how bad it was; and then he would not do it. She hardly knew what to +say to that speech. + +"I don't think I could love any one that fights duels," was the next +effort, still, poor child! offering her coin, her woman's affections, in +that cruel, heedless market of men. + +He said nothing: he felt it was right she should say that, and that he +should bear it in silence. + +At the door he stopped to part with her for ever. She could not bear it. +She was deathly white, the touch of rouge starting out like a blood-spot. + +"Cannot you help it?" she asked. + +"No, Miss Sue," he said simply, "I can't." + +She said nothing: just put up her lips and kissed him, and fled up stairs +swiftly and softly, poor weeping, breaking little heart, crushed under the +iron wheels of that cruel code! + +"Come in, Mr. Nettles," said the dowager: "there is some one waiting here +to see you." + +He entered and found Mr. Winnett, a short, stout, dark-eyed gentleman, who +shook hands with him laughingly as he said, "We have heard of this +business, Mr. Nettles, and mean to stop it: it involves Mrs. Brown's name, +you see. But she will send you with the officer in her carriage to avoid +any exposure." + +"Has Captain Mason been arrested?" asked Bob. + +"No, but--" + +He could say no more. Bob laid a hand on the broad sill of the open window, +and crashed down among the running roses. + +"Stop him!" cried Mr. Winnett. + +"Here, my little feller!" said Policeman X----. + +Bob was not short-stop for nothing. The man's heels went up as Bob leaped +into the buggy and drove off, the policeman following. + +"The man's a fool," said Aunt Fanny. + +"You mean Nettles?" + +"The man who tries to beat my trotter," said she. "Well, we have played and +lost." + +Yes, lost; for that artful gamester, Mason, after his arrest had taken +Levison aside and put it to that bold operator that his aunt's object was +to break up the duel, and that she would pay any claim to do it, but if he +was detained by the writs of Levi and Walker the opportunity was lost. He +agreed to give Levison a pre-dated note for two hundred and fifty dollars +for one hundred and twenty-five dollars cash if he (Levison) would release +him from the present arrest. We know the result. Instead of stopping her +nephew, Aunt Fanny had lent him wings to fly. While the lawyer explained +this the bell rang and a card--Deane Lee, to see Captain Nettles--was +brought in. + +"Who is Deane Lee?" she asked. + +"How fortunate!" said the lawyer. "It is Mr. Nettles's second." + +"We can appeal to his feelings," said the dowager. + +"Do," said he. "I will remain outside, and use an appeal men of his sort +understand better." + +"Pray be seated, Captain Lee," said the dowager. + +"This," thought Lee, "is the lady who made the duel: she looks game to +carry it through;" but he only bowed. + +"I may be the first to inform you," said she, "that my nephew will +necessarily require a postponement of his affair with your friend. We hope +to have your help, sir." + +Deane fingered his cap and bowed again. + +"To be entirely frank," said she graciously, "Captain Mason lacks means. He +applied to me, but of course I cannot furnish it for such a purpose." + +"Certainly not," said Lee: "the matter has been too much talked of already; +but not by our side, ma'am." + +"Yes," said she. "You will, I trust, give us your assistance." + +"Certainly--yes'm," said Lee: "it shall be done accordin' to Hoyle. Beg +pardon, but give yourself no trouble about it." + +"What a burden you remove!" said the dowager. "Such a delicate matter, and +my nephew feels that his honor is involved. Oh, you men! you men! But I am +so fortunate to have met you!" + +The dowager was really impressed and pleased with his prompt acquiescence +in the postponement. + +"Yes'm," continued Deane, "I'll see to it at once. Nettles needn't know a +word." + +"Thank you," said the dowager, sunning him with a royal grace of +manner--"so delicate and considerate in you! Yes, I should prefer that." +She evidently thought he referred to her nephew's impecuniosity; and he +did, but not as she supposed. + +"Not a word," continued Deane, thinking she must be a right jolly old girl, +after all. "Of course, ma'am, you couldn't advance the money to Captain +Mason: it 'ud look ugly for a lady. But the boys shall have their fun: I'll +lend him the shads myself." + +"Sir!" shrieked the dowager. + +"I beg, ma'am, you'll take no trouble," said Deane, anxiously polite. "It's +no inconvenience whatever--in fact, to my advantage. I've got two or three +little bets out the thing'll come off; so I'm bound to come out even." + +The dowager flashed up, and rang the bell violently, her whole face +convulsed with passion: "Show this man out! show him off the place!" + +Lee walked out gravely, fingering his cap. At the door he turned to the +mulatto and said sympathetically, "Does she have 'em often?" + +"What, young marsta?" + +"Fits," said Lee sententiously, and walked off. + +But he was not through yet. The lawyer waited under the gaslight, and as +the soldier, pondering the late interview curiously, approached, he +addressed him: "Captain Lee, I believe?" + +"Them's my initials," said Deane. "What about it?" + +"A shrewd young fellow like you might make something out of this duel." + +"As how?" asked Deane. + +"The old lady would pay handsomely to have it postponed," said the lawyer. + +"Whe-ew-ew!" whistled Lee, a light breaking on him. "What a mule's head +I've been!" + +"You see the chance, eh?" asked the lawyer. + +"Lookee here," said Deane, taking him confidentially by the arm: "I don't +mind letting you into a secret if you'll keep dark." + +The lawyer nodded gravely. + +"_You_ can make a pot of money out of it," continued Deane. + +It was not exactly the line of suggestion anticipated, and it was Mr. +Winnett's turn to ask "How?" + +"I've strictly private and confidential information, you know--" + +"Of course, of course," acquiesced the lawyer. + +"That the other side is devilish hard up," said Deane in an emphatic +whisper. "See 'em privately on that p'int. It's no use talking to us: we're +flush." + +With that he strode abruptly into the dark, leaving Mr. Winnett to puzzle +out whether he had just heard a serious proposition or had been subjected +to the hoax of a solemn wag. + +That ended the efforts to stop the duel, and night with its grief and +penitence came on all interested in the parties to it. On the dowager in +her cushioned chair, with a finger in the prayer-book, seeing the portrait +of her only son brought home stricken to death by his own gun thirty years +ago, as it changed from the long curls and blue eyes of childhood to a +handsome but weak bearded face of a man, dreadfully like that other face as +she saw it on the bed under the white seals of death. On a homely old +mother lying in the back room of a village store, and a short, square man +walking up and down and saying, "Don't take on so, old gal: you'll hurt +yourself. It's just them newspaper lies. Our Bob wouldn't fight no dule." +And the woman's sob: "Lost, body and soul! soul and body!--our boy Bob, +John! our boy Bob!" On poor little Sue with her headache as she answers her +mother's inquiry that she's "Better, mamma;" but as her father asks the +same question she puts up her arms about his neck, and says, "Oh, papa! oh, +papa!" and the shrewd, worldly man kneels down and prays with her for the +life of that alien sinner yonder as he has not prayed since he was a man. +On Bob himself at the hotel quietly reading to the listening major, "I am +the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in Me, though he were +dead, yet shall he live," as if every comforting word was a denunciation. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +After his victory over his aunt, Mason's spirits had been continually +rising. That humorist Payne, who thought it such a hoax to pit two +cocktails against each other and pull the strings of the puppets, writhed +under his merciless chaff. Mason had called for candles, and, chipping +balls of the spermaceti blacked in an aesthetic spirit with pencil-dust, had +used them for practice with a parlor pistol, alleging that the leaden balls +damaged the furniture. When Lee came to cast bullets, using the brazier's +furnace in the room, Mason made him sit down, took the moulds and threw +them in the Brown duelling pistol-case, and set himself to entertain the +party and chaff Payne. He lolled back in his chair, his handsome figure +showing to advantage, now rallying Payne on the prospect of figuring in a +"ring-tailed gaberdine" as a victim of the dowager's anger, and now +reciting marvellous horse-stories, mixed with anecdotes pertinent and +impertinent. The party consisted of an editor, a surgeon, a German +geologist prospecting that wonderful fossil bed of the Falls, and evidently +looking on Mason as a miracle excelling anything dug up, and the seconds. + +Mason rattled on with his racing and racy anecdotes: "Yes, sir, it was a +perfectly white mare, sky-blue mane and tail. I put her in the racing-buggy +on Aunt Fanny's round quarter-track, and she spun around so fast the off +wheels never touched the turf from the quarter-post to the judges' stand. +Fact, gentlemen! fastest trotting-time on record. Rather peculiar color +too." + +"Very," said the German in admiration of his host. "A remarkable +peculiarity in the pigment granules. What became of this singular animal?" + +"Singular, as you say," said Mason easily. "She took navicular and jolted +off her pins: trotted ten miles an hour on the stubs after she cast her +hoofs." + +"Eggsdraordinary vitality!" ejaculated the German in deep gutturals, and +looking around as if distrustful of Mason's rapid utterance. "How did you +call it?" + +"Skylight," said Mason carelessly. "Imp. Milky Way by dam Cerulean, as the +stud-books rather profanely style it. Tremendous vitality, though!" passing +a pair of moulds to Lee and winking to attract his attention, "I thought to +preserve the hair and hide as a curiosity. Wouldn't do--wouldn't begin to +do! Digestive function so strong action continued from the skin. Had to +substitute brickdust and charcoal. Drop into my private museum some day. +Happy to show you that and some other curiosities picked up in my rather +remarkable adventures." + +Lee was now busy casting bullets, and Mason's spirits seemed to rise with +the operation. Some listened, others laughed, but Mason had a cool way of +perking up his eyebrows and going on negligently, as much as to say, "If +you deprive yourself of the satisfaction of believing, the fault lies with +the listener." He seemed divided between a wish to distract Lee from +careful observation of his employment and to chaff Payne. Once Payne +started suddenly as if about to say something to Lee, but a look quenched +him. + +"Friend of my youth, this goblet sip," laughed Mason. "For what says the +Psalmist?--'Let the galded jade wince, our wethers is unwrung.' But never +be it said," rising and speaking with theatrical emotion--"Not while Reason +holds her throne in this distracted globe--never, while Mason lives, shall +his Damon, his caster, be cast in prison-bonds by a ravaging female +she-aunt. Never shall penitential garb encase those manly limbs nor base +turnkey's shears clip those auburn locks for which ripe beauty in melting +accents is wont to plead in vain." + +"You're devilish generous," growled Payne. "You know the old griffin +doesn't propose to bag me unless you get hit." + +"Is it possible," asked the German, catching a meaning in this raillery, +"the second of an American duel is imprisoned if his principal is shot? I +ask for information." + +"You have come to the right shop now," said Lind. "He is, invariably. Some +rather curious contretemps grow out of it. Duelling is very popular among +us, very--especially with the fair sex," kissing his hand to an indefinite +noun of multitude. "A great favorite being imprisoned for acting as second, +the people took it up--elected him governor by an overwhelming majority. It +was supposed, of course, he would pardon himself; but no: he was a Roman, +the noblest Roman of them all. 'The prerogative of executive clemency,' he +said, 'had already been grossly abused. It would ill repay the generous +confidence of his constituents to exercise it in his own behalf and in +order to escape the just penalty of the law.' He refused to pardon himself, +and so served out his term in both offices." + +This struck the German as something heroic. + +"True, sir, true," said Lind: "rather inconvenient, however. When the +legislature met, as it necessarily did, in the penitentiary, you could not +tell a member from a convict. Rather awkward, you see, if the wrong body +adjourned itself by mistake." + +The party broke up late, and Mason, throwing off his coat, called for +Webster's _Quarto_ and Watson's _Poetical Quotations_, saying he would +address his aunt in such an Orphic strain as would make her wig curl and +ma'amselle's rouge-pot chalky. Watson's _Poetical Quotations_ was not in +the hotel; but with the big _Quarto_ before him, arms akimbo, his legs +spread out under the table, Mason went at his task, pausing to shout a +passage at Payne, and swear it would liquefy the crystal of his aunt's +frigid humor like a hot collar in July, or to scratch his head over some +fickle-vowelled monosyllable that defied orthography; and the soft dark +night deepened to the gray, lustreless morning. + + * * * * * + +An early marketer from Jeffersonville spread a rumor that R. Nettles was +shot through the lungs, and poor little Sue read it in the paper an hour +later. An eager reporter recognized the hotel-van from over the river, with +a tarpaulin thrown over its contents. "Anything of Captain Mason's party?" +he asked. + +"Stout, rosy man, good deal o' gas?" asked the porter. + +"Yes! yes! what of him?" + +"Nothing: I guess he won't gas no more," motioning toward the tarpaulin. +"Them's his'n. Do you know where his aunt lives?" + +Anybody knows; the van drives off; the rumor flies--both parties slain. + +Let us follow the van. At Aunt Fanny's the tarpaulin is thrown off, and +reveals nothing worse than a trunk, gun-case, etc., but the man's story +confirms the worst. He has a letter for the dowager, and it is sent up. The +dowager calls ma'amselle to read, which she does with strong emotion and +French accent: + +"MY DEAR AND VENERATED AUNT--" + +"Hand me the vinaigrette, and don't read so loud: I am not deaf," said the +dowager. + +The poor maid subdued her tones as she best could, and read: + +"Now is the hour when churchyards yawn and graves give up their dead. It is +midnight's holy hour. I hear the rush of the Falls like a mill-sluice, and +it recalls 'the happy, happy hours of childhood.' But ere another day I may +ride upon the Styx, and hear the dam loud roaring no more." + +"Ride upon a stick, and hear _what_?" ejaculated the dowager at poor Lind's +rhetoric. + +"Mais oui, madame," translates the French maid, "c'est la fleuve de l'enfer +et les cris des ames perdues." + +"Oh, the Styx!" said the dowager, taking snuff.--"Use your handkerchief, +Hortense, and go on." + +She obeys: + +"Ere my venerated aunt peruses this calligraphy an eagle soaring in its +pride of place will be by a mousing Nettles hawked at and killed." + +"Poor boy!" said his aunt. "I must have a black grenadine, trimmed with +bugles and flounced very deep, for mourning.--Don't forget it, Hortense." + +"My last thoughts," continued the reader, "are with my revered relative; +for who forgave the boyish trick, and fed me on a candy-stick, and nursed +me when it made me sick?--My aunt. Who taught me to back a colt or make a +book? Who entered me for the purse with Cousin Fanny Alison, but the filly +bolted with Bob Ascot?--My aunt." + +"Patience alive!" cried the dowager: "what does the man mean, with his +doggerel poetry and slang of the stables at such a time?" + +"Oh, madame! it is noble," said the poor maid with streaming eyes, and then +continued: + +"She besought me with the salt rheum in her optical organs to suppress my +fury; but who can restrain the wrath of a Brown? She denied me the +spondulics--a Latin word for cash--to carry out my nefarious purpose, +though it grieved her generous heart." + +"That's well thought of," said the dowager. "People talk so. We must get it +to those newspaper-men. Poor Lind!" + +"To those who assert a mercenary motive I triumphantly respond, 'She paid +up my little bills, and has doubtless destroyed the evidences of them.'" + +"They are in the steel casket," said the dowager. "Burn them. But he never +would have paid." + +"When she honors my sight draft," read ma'amselle, "for two-fifty to settle +up my present expenses in this business, she will pay the last debt of him +who has paid the last debt of Nature. For if the knave do cut but deep +enough, I'll pay it instantly with all my heart. (_Shakespeare_.) + +L. BROWN MASON." + +"Give me the cheque-book, and let the man come up," said the dowager. + +The man was questioned, and had but little to tell. He was told Captain +Mason had been shot, and to bring the letter. After he was dismissed the +dowager said, "Let Fanny bring the chocolate. I hope the cream is better: +it curdled yesterday. Poor Lind! He had a good heart." + + * * * * * + +About the time his aunt was cashing his last draft, and reckoning that that +little enterprise of marrying Sue Brown to Captain Mason had cost her a +thousand dollars for failure, Captain Mason, with a party in the carriage, +stood on Mrs. Walter Brown's front steps explaining to her that at a little +expense in cutting down her ornamental trees and grubbing up her rare +exotic shrubbery the front lawn could be converted into a beautiful +quarter-track, and offering his services to effect the desirable change. +Then advancing, he graciously held out his hand to poor, pale, red-eyed +little Sudie, still hysterical over that dreadful paragraph. + +"No," said Sue tartly. "Mamma may shelter you from the police, but you +ought to be hung. There! And I won't shake a _murderer's_ hand. There! I +won't! I won't! I won't! There!" + +Mason's jolly face looked queer. "I see," said he. "'Twas ever thus from +childhood's hour. I never bucked a card or colt, but what some fellow held +the bower or else that horse was sure to bolt. When, at pensive evening's +hour, I stroll among the tombs, I read the virtues of the--erra--clammy, +the clammy. As I read the testimony of the rocks, of the rocks, it strikes +me the wicked never die, and I long to be--erra--wicked. There is no +raising that card," wagging his head solemnly at little Sue, who stared in +spite of herself, "until Gable--I believe his name is Gable--turns trump. +But I have brought you all that is mortal of the late R. Nettles." + +He turned to the door as he spoke, while the shocked, terrified girl hid +her face, thinking of the vision in that very parlor under the white seals +of death. + +But Bob Nettles's cheery, commonplace tones interrupted: "How'd do, Miss +Sue? how'd do, Mrs. Brown? Captain Mason said he'd break it to you, and I +thought--" + +But Sue had turned her face to the wall in a corner, and stood shaking her +plump shoulders and stamping her little feet like a pettish child, as she +said, "Go 'way from me, Bob Nettles! I'll never speak to you again as long +as I live; and as for Cousin Lind," with a shake and a stamp, "I hate him!" + +"See what it is to lose the virtues of the clammy," said Mason, pulling his +beard and grinning at Bob's blank looks. "But I must go to my aunt. By a +shocking oversight we forgot to settle the hotel-bill at Jeffersonville, +and I am afraid the greedy landlord has forwarded a note to have been +delivered to her in case of accident, and a draft. It is humiliating to +think she has paid it, and honor requires I should promptly settle it with +an I.O.U. As for Payne--" + +"Dry that up," said Payne. + +"Well, I'll only say the next duel I fight may Payne load the pistols!" +added the captain. + +What that meant is the unsolved mystery of the duel. Deane Lee insists that +it was a fair, honest, stand-up fight. True, he had used the wrong moulds +the night before in casting bullets, but he had seen Payne load the famous +Brown duelling-pistols. + +But Mason's old comrades wink at the story of the wax bullets blacked with +pencil-dust by Mason to represent the real thing, and say Payne was so +cowed by the dowager's threat and Mason's chaff that no power could have +made him charge with dangerous missiles. Mason himself says that neither he +nor Nettles could have hit a barn-door; but a mere index of the veracious +stories of that famous duel, as told by Mason, would fill a book. As his +debts were paid and the dowager keeps him in feather, and as Bob and Sue +were married, that game-bird is right in declaring it the only duel that +was ever "satisfactorily adjusted honorably to all parties." + +WILL WALLACE HARNEY. + + + + +FOLK-LORE OF THE SOUTHERN NEGROES. + + +All tribes and peoples have their folk-lore, whether embodied in tales of +daring adventure, as in our own doughty Jack the Giant-killer, or in +stories of genii and magic, as in the _Arabian Nights_, or in legends of +wraiths, witches, bogles and apparitions, as among the Scotch peasantry; +and these fables are so strongly tinged with the peculiarities--or rather +the idiosyncrasies--of the race among whom they originate as to furnish a +fair index of its mental and moral characteristics, not only at the time of +their origin, but so long as the people continue to narrate them or listen +to them. + +The folk-lore of Africo-Americans, as appearing in our Southern States, is +a medley of fables, songs, sayings, incantations, charms and superstitious +traditions brought from various tribes along the West African coast, and so +far condensed into one mass in their American homes that often part of a +story or tradition belonging to one tribe is grafted, without much regard +to consistency, upon a part belonging to another people, while they are +still further complicated by the frequent infusion into them of ideas +evidently derived from communication with the white race. + +Any one who will take the trouble to analyze the predominant traits of +negro character, and to collate them with the predominant traits of African +folk-lore, will discern the fitness of each to each. On every side he will +discover evidences of a passion for music and dancing, for visiting and +chatting, for fishing and snaring, indeed for any pleasure requiring little +exertion of either mind or body; evidences also of a gentle, pliable and +easy temper--of a quick and sincere sympathy with suffering wheresoever +seen--of a very low standard of morals, combined with remarkable dexterity +in satisfying themselves that it is right to do as they wish. Another +trait, strong enough and universal enough to atone for many a dark one, is +that, as a rule, there is nothing of the fierce and cruel in their nature, +and it is scarcely possible for anything of this kind to be grafted +permanently upon them. + +Of their American-born superstitions, by far the greater part are +interwoven with so-called religious beliefs, and go far to show their +native faith in dreams and visions, which they are not slow to narrate, to +embellish, and even to fabricate extemporaneously, to suit the ears of a +credulous listener; also showing their natural tendency to rely upon +outward observances, as if possessed of some _fetish_-like virtue, and in +certain cases a horrible debasement of some of the highest and noblest +doctrines of the Christian faith. These superstitions must of course be +considered apart from the real character of those who are sincerely pious, +and upon which they are so many blemishes. They are, in fact, the rank and +morbid outgrowth of the peculiarities of religious denominations grafted +upon the prolific soil of their native character. + +Of the few which may be mentioned without fear of offence, since they +belong to the negro rather than to his denomination, the following are +examples: Tools to be used in digging a grave must never be carried through +a house which any one inhabits, else they will soon be used for digging the +grave of the dweller. Tools already used for such a purpose must not be +carried directly home. This would bring the family too closely for safety +into contact with the dead. They must be laid reverently beside the grave, +and allowed to remain there all night. A superstition in respect to posture +is by some very rigorously observed. It is, that religious people must +never sit with their legs crossed. The only reason given--though we cannot +help suspecting that there must be another kept in concealment--is, that +_crossing the legs is the same as dancing, and dancing is a sin_. + +These are fair samples of Americanized superstitions--puerile, it is true, +but harmless. It is only when we come into contact with negroes of pure +African descent that we discover evidences of a once prevalent and not +wholly discarded demonolatry. The native religion of the West African, +except where elevated by the influence of Mohammedanism, was not--and, +travellers tell us, is not yet--a worship of God as such, nor even an +attempt to know and honor Him, but a constant effort at self-protection. +The true God, they say, calls for no worship; for, being good in and of +himself, He will do all the good He can without being asked. But there are +multitudes of malignant spirits whose delight is to mislead and to destroy. +These must be propitiated by gifts and acts of worship, or rendered +powerless by charms and incantations. + +No one knows, or has the means of ascertaining, to what extent real +devil-worship is practised in America, because it is always conducted in +secret; but we have reason to believe that it has almost entirely ceased, +being shamed out of existence by the loveliness of a purer and better +faith, and a belief in the agency of evil spirits, and consequent dread of +their malign powers, although still more or less dominant with the negroes, +has also greatly declined.[C] To give a sample of this last: The time +was--but it has nearly passed away, or else the writer has not been for +many years in the way of hearing of it, as in the days of childhood--when +one of the objects of greatest dread among our seaboard negroes was the +"Jack-muh-lantern." This terrible creature--who on dark, damp nights would +wander with his lantern through woods and marshes, seeking to mislead +people to their destruction--was described by a negro who seemed perfectly +familiar with his subject as a hideous little being, somewhat human in +form, though covered with hair like a dog. It had great goggle eyes, and +thick, sausage-like lips that opened from ear to ear. In height it seldom +exceeded four or five feet, and it was quite slender in form, but such was +its power of locomotion that no one on the swiftest horse could overtake it +or escape from it, for it could leap like a grasshopper to almost any +distance, and its strength was beyond all human resistance. No one ever +heard of its victims being bitten or torn: they were only compelled to go +with it into bogs and swamps and marshes, and there left to sink and die. +There was only one mode of escape for those who were so unfortunate as to +be met by one of these mischievous night-walkers, and that was by a charm; +but that charm was easy and within everybody's reach. Whether met by marsh +or roadside, the person had only to take off his coat or outer garment and +put it on again inside out, and the foul fiend was instantly deprived of +all power to harm. + +Multifarious, however, as are the forms and aspects of folk-lore among this +remarkable and in some respects highly interesting people, the chief bulk +of it lies stored away among their fables, which are as purely African as +are their faces or their own plaintive melodies. Travellers and +missionaries tell us that the same sweet airs which are so often heard in +religious meetings in America, set to Christian hymns, are to be recognized +in the boats and palm-roofed houses of Africa, set to heathen words, and +that the same wild stories of Buh Rabbit, Buh Wolf, and other _Buhs_ that +are so charming to the ears of American children, are to be heard to this +day in Africa, differing only in the drapery necessary to the change of +scene. + +Almost without exception the actors in these fables are brute animals +endowed with speech and reason, in whom mingle strangely, and with +ludicrous incongruity, the human and brute characteristics. The _dramatis +personae_ are always honored with the title of _Buh_, which is generally +supposed to be an abbreviation of the word "brother" (the _br_ being +sounded without the whir of the _r_), but it probably is a title of respect +equivalent to our Mr. The animals which figure in the stories are chiefly +Buh Rabbit, Buh Lion, Buh Wolf and Buh Deer, though sometimes we hear of +Buh Elephant, Buh Fox, Buh Cooter and Buh Goose. As a rule, each Buh +sustains in every fable the same general character. Buh Deer is always a +simpleton; Buh Wolf always rapacious and tricky; Buh Rabbit foppish, vain, +quick-witted, though at times a great fool; Buh Elephant quiet, sensible +and dignified. + +Of the Buh fables, that which is by all odds the greatest favorite, and +which appears in the greatest variety of forms, is the "Story of Buh Rabbit +and the Tar Baby." Each variation preserves the great landmarks, +particularly the closing scene. According to the most thoroughly African +version, it runs thus: Buh Rabbit and Buh Wolf are neighbors. In a +conversation one day Buh Wolf proposes that they two shall dig a well for +their joint benefit, instead of depending upon chance rainfalls or going to +distant pools or branches, as they often have to do, to quench their +thirst. To this Buh Rabbit, who has no fondness for labor, though willing +enough to enjoy its fruits, offers various objections, and finally gives a +flat refusal. + +"Well," says Buh Wolf, who perfectly understands his neighbor, "if you no +help to dig well, you mustn't use de water." + +"What for I gwine use de water?" responds Buh Rabbit with affected disdain. +"What use I got for well? In de mornin' I drink de dew, an' in middle o' +day I drink from de cow-tracks." + +The well is dug by Buh Wolf alone, who after a while perceives that some +one besides himself draws from it. He watches, and soon identifies the +intruder as Buh Rabbit, who makes his visits by night. "Ebery mornin' he +see Buh Rabbit tracks--ebery mornin' Buh Rabbit tracks." Indignant at the +intrusion, he resolves to set a trap for his thievish neighbor and to put +him to death. Knowing Buh Rabbit's buckish love for the ladies, he fits up +a _tar baby_, made to look like a beautiful girl, and sets it near the +well. By what magical process this manufacture of an attractive-looking +young lady out of treacherous adhesive tar is accomplished we are not +informed. But listeners to stories must not be inquisitive about the +mysterious parts: they must be content to hear. + +Buh Rabbit, emboldened by long impunity, goes to the well as usual after +dark, sees this beautiful creature standing there motionless, peeps at it +time and again suspiciously; but being satisfied that it is really a young +lady, he makes a polite bow and addresses her in gallant language. The +young lady makes no reply. This encourages him to ask if he may not come to +take a kiss. Still no reply. He sets his water-bucket on the ground, +marches up boldly and obtains the kiss, but finds to his surprise that he +cannot get away: his lips are held fast by the tar. He struggles and tries +to persuade her to let him go. How he is able to speak with his lips +sticking fast is another unexplained mystery; but no matter: he does speak, +and most eloquently, yet in vain. He now changes his tone, and threatens +her with a slap. Still no answer. He administers the slap, and his hand +sticks fast. One after the other, both hands and both feet, as well as his +mouth, are thus caught, and poor Buh Rabbit remains a prisoner until Buh +Wolf comes the next morning to draw water. + +"Eh! eh! Buh Rabbit, wah de matter?" exclaims Buh Wolf, affecting the +greatest surprise at his neighbor's woeful plight. + +Buh Rabbit, who has as little regard for truth as for honesty, replies, +attempting to throw all the blame upon the deceitful maiden by whom he has +been entrapped, not even suspecting yet--so we are to infer--that she is +made of tar instead of living flesh. He declares with all the earnestness +of injured innocence that he was passing by, in the sweet, honest +moonlight, in pursuit of his lawful business, when this girl _hailed_ him, +and decoyed him into giving her a kiss, and was now holding him in unlawful +durance. + +The listener ironically commiserates his captive neighbor, and proposes to +set him free; when, suddenly noticing the water-bucket and the tracks by +the well, he charges Buh Rabbit with his repeated robberies by night, and +concludes by declaring his intention to put him to immediate death. + +The case has now become pretty serious, and Buh Rabbit is of course +woefully troubled at the near approach of the great catastrophe: still, +even in this dire extremity, his wits do not cease to cheer him with some +hope of escape. Seeing that his captor is preparing to hang him--for the +cord is already around his neck and he is being dragged toward an +overhanging limb--he expresses the greatest joy by capering, dancing and +clapping his hands--so much so that the other curiously inquires, "What for +you so glad, Buh Rabbit?" + +"Oh," replies the sly hypocrite, "because you gwine hang me and not trow me +in de brier-bush." + +"What for I mustn't trow you in de brier-bush?" inquires Mr. Simpleton +Wolf. + +"Oh," prays Buh Rabbit with a doleful whimper, "please hang me: please trow +me in de water or trow me in de fire, where I die at once. But don't--oh +don't--trow me in de brier-bush to tear my poor flesh from off my bones." + +"I gwine to do 'zactly wah you ax me not to do," returns Wolf in savage +tone. Then, going to a neighboring patch of thick, strong briers, he +pitches Buh Rabbit headlong in the midst, and says, "Now let's see de flesh +come off de bones." + +No sooner, however, does the struggling and protesting Buh Rabbit find +himself among the briers than he slides gently to the ground, and peeping +at his would-be torturer from a safe place behind the stems, he says, +"Tankee, Buh Wolf--a tousand tankee--for _bring me home_! De brier-bush _de +berry place where I been born_." + +Another favorite story is that of the "Foot-Race." Buh Rabbit and Buh Frog +are admirers of the beautiful Miss Dinah, and try their best to win her. +The lady likes them both, but not being permitted to marry both, she +resolves to make her choice depend upon the result of a foot-race. The +distance is to be ten miles--that is, five miles out and five miles +in--along a level road densely bordered with bushes. The day arrives. Miss +Dinah, seated at the starting-point, is to give the word to the rivals, who +stand one on either side, and the goal for the winner is to be a place _in +her lap_. By agreement, Buh Rabbit is to take the open road, and Buh Frog, +who prefers it, is allowed to leap through the bushes, and both are to +halloo to each other at the end of every mile. Buh Rabbit, however, with +all his cunning, has this time met his match; for Buh Frog has engaged five +of his kinsmen, so nearly like himself in appearance that they cannot be +distinguished from him, and has stationed one in concealment near each +mile-post, with instructions how to act, while he has provided for himself +a nice hiding-place in the bushes near Miss Dinah's seat. At the word Go! +the rivals start, Buh Frog leaping into the bushes, where he disappears, +and Buh Rabbit capering along the road and flaunting his white tail merrily +at the thought of distancing the other so far that he shall never see or +hear of him again till after Miss Dinah has been won. At the end of the +first mile Buh Rabbit turns his head back and tauntingly halloos, "I here, +Buh Frog! How you git 'long?" + +To his dismay, however, he hears the voice of the other in the bushes ahead +of him singing out, "Boo-noo! I here too! I beat you here, I'll beat you +there: I'll beat you back to Miss Dinah's lap!" + +On hearing this boast repeated ahead of him in the bushes at each +mile-post, Buh Rabbit becomes frantic, and rushes through the last mile as +he had never run before. But all in vain. Just as he comes within easy view +of the coveted goal he sees Buh Frog leap from the bushes plump into Miss +Dinah's lap, and hears him sing, with as good breath as though he had not +run a mile, + + "Boo-noo! Before you! + I beat you there, I beat you here: + I've beat you back to Miss Dinah's lap!" + +Another version makes the competitors Buh Deer and Buh Cooter (the negro +name for terrapin or land-tortoise), in which Buh Cooter wins the day by +collusion with some of his closely-resembling kin. Substantially the same +story is to be heard from the natives of each of the four continents, but +whether the African gained his idea of it from Europe or Asia, or whether +the European or Asian gained it from Africa, is perhaps past determining. +The writer can testify that the story as above narrated, or rather the +substance of it, was told him in childhood by negroes supposed to have +obtained it direct from Africa. + +Some of these stories are mere laudations of Buh Rabbit's shrewdness and +common sense. Buh Wolf has long had a watering of the mouth for +rabbit-flesh, but has never been able to gratify it. He finally hits upon +the following expedient: He causes a report to be spread that he has +suddenly died, and all his neighbors, especially Buh Rabbit, are invited to +his funeral. He has no doubt that his plump, short-tailed neighbor, being +once enclosed within the walls of his house, will fall an easy prey to +himself and his attending cousins. Buh Rabbit, however, is not to be easily +ensnared. He goes demurely to the house of mourning, but does not enter. He +seats himself on the steps by the side of Buh Cat, who is enjoying the +sunshine in the doorway. + +"Is Buh Wolf dead, for true and true?" he inquires. + +"I suppose so. Eberybody say he dead," answers Buh Cat. + +"How did he die, and when?" he continues to inquire. + +Buh Cat gives the particulars as reported to him, and Buh Rabbit pretends +to receive them with all faith, expressing great sorrow for the loss +experienced by the neighborhood. But after a little musing he seems to be +struck with a new idea, and turning to Buh Cat he inquires in hopeful tone, +"But did he _grin_ or _whistle_ before he died? People who die _must_ do +one or t'other; and some, who die hard, do both. I'm a doctor, you know." + +This is said in the doorway, near the stiff-looking corpse, and in a +whisper loud enough to be heard all through the room. Very soon Buh Wolf is +heard to whistle, and then his lips settle into a grin so broad as to show +his teeth. + +"Buh Cat," says Buh Rabbit, putting his hand on his stomach and screwing up +his face as if seized with mortal sickness, "I mus' hurry home and take +some yarb tea, or mebbe I'll have to grin and whistle like our poor +neighbor. Good-bye, Buh Cat. Come to me, please, after Buh Wolf done berry +and tell me all about it. Good-bye." + +To the surprise of all who are not in the secret, the corpse gives a loud +sneeze, then leaps from the table, throws off his "berryin' clothes," and +joins his friends in eating heartily of his own funeral dinner. + +His hankering, however, for rabbit-mutton still continues, and he resolves, +notwithstanding his recent inglorious defeat, to attempt again to gratify +it. With this end in view he makes frequent visits to his neighbor and +talks with him across the fence, but is never invited beyond. One day, in +the course of conversation, he informs him that there is a fine pear tree +on the other side of a neighboring field, loaded with luscious fruit just +in condition to be gathered. + +"I will go get some." + +"When?" + +"To-morrow, when the sun is about halfway up the sky." + +"Go: I will join you there." + +Buh Rabbit rises very early, goes to the tree soon after daybreak, finds +the pears uncommonly good, and is laughing to himself to think how he has +outwitted his enemy, when he hears a voice under the tree: "Ho, Mr. Rabbit! +in the tree a'ready?" + +"Yes," replies Buh Rabbit, trembling at the sight of his dreaded foe: "I +wait for you, and tink you nebber gwine come. I tell you w'at," smacking +his lips, "dem here pear too good." + +"Can't you trow me down some?" inquires Buh Wolf, so strongly impressed by +the sound of that eloquent smack that he longs to get a taste of the fruit. + +Buh Rabbit selects some of the finest, which he throws far off in the soft +grass, in order, he says, to avoid bruising, and while Buh Wolf is engaged +in eating them, with his head buried in the grass, Buh Rabbit slides +quietly from the tree and hurries home. + +A few days thereafter Buh Wolf makes still another attempt. He pays a visit +as before, and speaks of a great fair to be held next day in a neighboring +town. "I am going," says the rash Buh Rabbit; and he does go, although we +might suppose that he would have sense enough to keep out of harm's way. On +returning home, late in the day, he sees Buh Wolf sitting on a log by the +roadside, at the bottom of a hill, waiting for him. His preparations for +escape have already been made in the purchase of a quantity of hollow +tinware. Slipping quietly into the bushes, without being seen by the +waylayer, he puts a big tin mug on his head and a tin cup on each hand and +foot, and, hanging various tin articles around his body, he comes rolling +down the hill toward Buh Wolf, who is so frightened at the unearthly noise +that he runs off with his tail between his legs, and never troubles Buh +Rabbit again. + +The struggle between them, however, does not cease even with this triumph +of the weaker party. There is a contest now of love and strategem. They +both pay their addresses to the same young lady, making their visits to her +on alternate evenings. In the progress of the courtship Buh Rabbit learns +that his rival has spoken of him contemptuously, saying that he is very +dressy and foppish, it is true, but that he has no manliness; adding that +he (Buh Wolf) could eat him up at a mouthful. To this Buh Rabbit retorts +the next evening by assuring Miss Dinah that Buh Wolf was nothing but his +grandfather's old _riding horse_; adding, "I ride him, and whip him too, +whenever I choose, and he obeys me like a dog." The next afternoon Buh +Rabbit tempts his unsuspecting rival to join him in the play of riding +horse, which consists in each in turn mounting the other's back and riding +for a while. Buh Rabbit, who has thought out the whole case beforehand, +offers to give the first ride, and so times it that the ride ends at his +own door about the time for the usual visit to Miss Dinah. He runs into the +house and puts on his dandy clothes, pleading that he cannot enjoy a ride +unless he is in full dress; and pleading, moreover, that he cannot ride +without saddle and bridle and all that belongs to a horseman, he persuades +Mr. Fool Wolf to allow a strong, rough bit to be put into his mouth and a +close-fitting saddle to be girded to his back, upon which Buh Rabbit +mounts, holding in his hand a terrible whip and having his heels armed with +a pair of long sharp spurs. Thus accoutred, he prevails upon Buh Wolf to +take the road toward Miss Dinah's house, on approaching which he so +vigorously applies both whip and spur as to compel his resisting steed to +trot up to the door, where Buh Rabbit bows politely to his lady-love, +saying, "I told you so: now you see for yourself." Of course he wins the +bride. + +There is a class of stories approaching somewhat in character those related +of our own Jack the Giant-killer, leaving out the giants. The one given +below seems to have a common origin with the Anglo-Saxon story of the +"Three Blue Pigs." This is entitled "Tiny Pig." + +A family of seven pigs leave home to seek their fortunes, and settle in a +neighborhood harassed by a mischievous fox. Each of these pigs builds +himself a house of dirt, except Tiny Pig, who, though the runt of the +litter, is a sensible little fellow and the hero of the tale. He builds his +house of stone, with good strong doors and a substantial chimney. In due +course of time, Fox, being hungry, comes to the house of one of the +brothers, and asks to be admitted, but is refused. The request and refusal, +as told by the negroes, is couched in language which is intended to be +poetical, and is certainly not without some pretension to the picturesque. +Fox's request in each case is-- + + "Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, oh let me in: + I'll go away soon, and not touch a thing." + +And the refusal is-- + + "No, no, Mr. Fox, by the beard on my chin! + You may say what you will, but I'll not let you in." + +On being refused, Fox threatens to _blow down_ the house and eat up the +occupant. Pig continuing to refuse--as what pig would not?--the house is +blown down and the owner eaten up. This sad fate befalls in turn each of +the six who had been so foolish or so lazy as to build their houses of +dirt. Fox, having finished all six, and becoming again hungry, comes at +last to the stone house, where he makes the same hypocritical request, and +meets the same heroic refusal. He now threatens to blow down the house. +"Blow away and welcome!" retorts the little hero. Fox blows "until his wind +gives out," but cannot move the first stone. He then tries scratching and +tearing with his paws, but only succeeds in tearing off two of his own +toe-nails. "I will come down your chimney," he threatens, leaping as he +says so to the roof of the house. "Come soon as you please," sturdily +replies Tiny Pig, standing before his fireplace with a big armful of dry +straw ready to be thrown upon the fire. As soon as Fox has entered the +chimney, and come down too far to return quickly, Tiny Pig throws the dry +straw upon the fire, which creates such a blaze that Fox is scorched and +smoked to death, and Tiny Pig lives the rest of his life in peace, the hero +of his neighborhood. + +This story certainly furnishes foundation for a moral which we will leave +the reader to construct for himself, remarking as we pass that, so far as +we know, no moral has ever been drawn. Several other stories may be +regarded as inculcating, though feebly, some moral precept. + +One of these bears some features of American negro life, grafted probably +upon African stock: The denizens of a certain farmyard--ducks, geese, +turkeys, pea-fowls, guinea-fowls, hens, roosters and all--were invited by +those of another farmyard to a supper and a dance. They all went as a +matter of course, headed by the big farmyard rooster, who strutted and +crowed as he marched. They were a merry set, and such an amount of +quacking, cackling and gabbling as they made was seldom heard. After a few +rounds of dancing, just to give them a better appetite for supper and fit +them for a longer dance afterward, they were introduced to the supper-room. +There they saw on the table a pyramid of eatables high as the old gobbler's +head when stretched to its utmost; but, alas! it was, or seemed to be, a +pyramid of _corn bread_ only--pones upon pones of it, yet nothing but corn +bread. + +On seeing this the rooster becomes very indignant, and struts out of the +house, declaring that he will have nothing to do with so mean a supper, for +he can get corn bread enough at home. As he is angrily going off, however, +the others, who are too hungry to disdain even the plainest fare, fall to +work; and no sooner has the outer layer of corn loaves been removed--for it +is only the outer layer--than they find within a huge pile of bacon and +greens, and at the bottom of the pile, covered and protected by large +dishes, any amount of pies and tarts and cakes and other good things. + +Poor Rooster looks wistfully back, and is sorry that he had made that rash +speech. But it is too late now, for his word is out, and no one ever knew +Rooster take back his word if he had to die for it. He learned, however, a +valuable lesson that night, for from that time to this it has been observed +that Rooster always _scratches_ with his feet the place where he finds, or +expects to find, anything to eat, and that he never leaves off scratching +until he has searched to the bottom. + +Our last story is more purely African, at least in its _dramatis personae_. +Buh Elephant and Buh Lion were one day chatting upon various subjects, when +the elephant took occasion to say that he was afraid of no being on earth +except man. On seeing the big boastful eyes of the lion stretching wider +and his mane bristling, as if in disdain, he added, "You know, Buh Lion, +that, although you are held as the most to be dreaded of all beasts, I am +not afraid of any of your tribe, for if any of them should attack me I +could receive him on my tusk, or strike him dead with my trunk, or even +shake him off from my body and then trample him to death under my feet. But +man--who can kill us from a distance with his guns and arrows, who can set +traps for us of which we have no suspicion, who can fight us from the backs +of horses so swift that we can neither overtake him nor escape from him--I +do fear, for neither strength nor courage can avail against his wisdom." + +Buh Lion, on hearing this, shook himself, and said that he was no more +afraid of man than he was of any other creature which he was in the habit +of eating; and added that the only beings on earth he was afraid of were +_partridges_. + +"Partridges!" exclaims Buh Elephant in wonder. "What do you mean?" + +"Why this," says Buh Lion, "that when I am walking softly through the woods +I sometimes rouse a covey of partridges, and then they rise all around me +with such a whir as to make me start. I am afraid of nothing but +partridges." + +Not long afterward Buh Elephant heard a gun fired near a neighboring +village, followed by a loud, prolonged roar. Going there to learn what was +the matter, he saw Buh Lion lying dead by the roadside with a great hole in +his body made by a musket-ball. "Ah, my poor friend," said he, "partridges +could never have treated you in this way." + +WILLIAM OWENS. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[C] Of the terrible forms of superstition prevalent under the names of Obi, +Voodooism, Evil-eye or Tricking, in which a trick-doctor or witch-doctor +works against another person's life or health or plans, or seeks to +neutralize the influence of another doctor, our subject leads us to say +nothing. + + + + +SELIM. + + + Surrender your soul to the spell of enchantment, + And wander with me + Where, river of magical fancies, Euphrates + Flows down to the sea. + + What city sleeps fair and mysterious by moonlight + Upon the dark shore? + Oh, those are the minarets gleaming of Basrah + That heavenward soar. + + And bright are her flower-lit gardens, whose fountains + Unceasingly rise, + Where oft, when the locust grew shrill and the summer + Shone red in the skies, + + The caliph would hasten from camp and from council + To rest and to dream. + To forge, in the workshop of silence, such weapons + As deadliest gleam. + + And with him came Selim, the friend of his spirit-- + Friend favored and true-- + Whose palace of marble Euphrates encircled + With girdle of blue. + + There oft by the murmuring waters the caliph + Would calmly recline, + And mark how the stars on that earth-sullied bosom + Seemed trembling to shine, + + Until, as one evening the moon rose serenely, + Fair pearl of the sky, + And filled with her presence the palace and desert, + The far and the nigh, + A trouble which hung On the aspect of Selim + Fell dark on his king, + As clouds 'twixt the sun and the sand-billowed ocean + Their dusky shapes fling. + + "O friend of my heart!" quoth the caliph, "what sorrow + Lies deep in thy breast?" + And Selim, replying, the source of his anguish + Thus humbly confessed: + + "Great lord of my being! life trembles and quivers + With fulness of joy: + The rays of my hopes are as gold in my pathway, + Undimmed by alloy; + + "Thy banners float far on the breezes of India, + Thy counsels are wise; + The thoughts of thy valor and strength to thy people + As light to their eyes; + + "Yet still, in the midst of thy glory and power, + Thou deignest to rest + Thy soul on the soul of thy servant, whom daily + Thy favors have blest, + + "Till he who once couched on his sheepskin reposes + On cushions of down, + And holds a fair wife in his arms who had only + A steed for his own. + + "Thus over the heaven thy grace has illumined + No shadow appears, + Save one, at whose coming thy servant unworthy + Shrinks, falters and fears-- + + "The shadow of Azrael, angel of terror, + Surpassingly strong, + The roar of whose onrushing wings soundeth louder + Than laughter or song; + + "Till I, even I, from the conflict of battle, + The scimitar's sweep, + Turn cowering, fearful of glory's last service + And manhood's best sleep. + + "Behold! now the heart of thy servant is open, + And bare to thy view." + Then slowly the caliph replied, while his gaze sought + The firmament blue: + + "Dread Prophet of Allah! thou knowest my spirit, + My heart and my life; + Thou knowest the desolate years of my manhood, + Their unended strife; + + "Thou knowest that never a friend have I cherished + Save only this one, + And now I have lost him; but, Allah il Allah! + Thy will still be done!" + + Then, turning, the caliph departed, and Selim, + Like one drunk with wine, + Arose all unconscious and turned to his dwelling, + His heart's inmost shrine, + + And followed the gleam of his lamp to the chamber + Where, sheltered and calm, + She peacefully slumbered who faithfully loved him-- + That wild heart's "sweet balm." + + One arm half encircled her baby, who sturdily + Clenched his round fist, + And lay with his rosy lips parted and eager, + As though lately kissed; + + While over them both her soft tresses, all fragrant, + Had rolled in their play: + How fair and how childish they looked in the moonlight, + Scarce purer than they! + + One moment stood Selim, while over his being + Hell's bitterness passed: + The next, and his dagger flashed forth like the lightning, + And fell like its blast. + + And Selim was wifeless and childless! In silence + He stood by the bed + Where still lay the wife and the child in the moonlight-- + Not sleeping, but dead. + + One moment he gazed at the faces, still peaceful, + Still tender, still fair, + Then fled to the desert, whose vastness could only + Give space to despair. + + But when, in the red eastern morning, the caliph + Stood sternly alone, + And watched the proud river, now mournful for ever + For all that was gone, + + Lo! Selim knelt calmly before him: "Great caliph! + Behold now thy slave, + For Azrael, angel of death, have I conquered + And bound in the grave." + + ANNIE PORTER. + + + +ENGLISH DOMESTICS AND THEIR WAYS. + + +An American lady, on coming to England and observing the workings of +domestic life, is apt to think English servants perfection, and to listen +to any complaints of them which she may hear with an ill-concealed smile. +"What! complain of these excellent, admirable, respectful, hard-working +servants!" she exclaims to her English friends. "If you could only see what +we have to endure from these women in our American households, then indeed +you would appreciate the quiet and efficient hand-maids whose services you +can command here in the mother-country." And, to make good her case against +the "help" which hinder our happiness so much in America, she will speak of +the high wages given them, the kind treatment they receive, the ingratitude +with which they take all favors, their inefficiency, and so on. + +But after a short sojourn in England our American lady will see many things +in respect to the duties and demands of English servants which were not +quite apparent to her at first; and by dint of observation she will soon +become aware that an English servant has privileges and requirements which +would be thought excessive in our country. In the first place, no English +servant will do any washing and ironing, not even for herself. Everything, +down to the smallest towel, must be done up by the laundress. Some servants +go so far as to stipulate what amount of linen, etc. they may have +laundried each week; and in the case of "nice young persons," who like to +keep themselves neat and fresh with light calico dresses and tiny white +caps and spotless collars and large white aprons, the bill for the +servants' washing is apt to swell into quite an item. Again, all English +servants exact either beer or beer-money. (How surprised an American +housekeeper would be if a new aspirant for the situation of cook or +chambermaid should say, "Do you supply me with lager, or give me money to +buy it myself?"!) After various struggles with the difficulties presented +by this beer question, the generality of English housekeepers have come to +the conclusion that it is better to give beer-money than to furnish beer to +their servants. When money is given it is likely not to be spent for beer +at all, which is quite as well; whereas if there is a servants' cask of +beer on tap in the kitchen, there are constant disputes as to how much has +been drunk, given away or wasted. The usual allowance for beer when money +is given is a shilling a week--a sum which in theory means twenty-five +cents of our money, but in actual practice, as prices now range, we may +calculate as representing about fifty cents. Thus, fifty cents for beer, +and certainly fifty cents more for personal laundry-work, add a dollar a +week to the wages of each servant. It is impossible to calculate the cost +of the family washing and ironing, but whatever it be, it must come out of +the housekeeper's pocket; for, as I have said, no servant will do it. Five +dollars a week is not a large calculation for the laundry-bill of a family, +especially if there are children. In America this money is generally saved, +but at what a price!--the house in disorder with wash-tub and ironing-board +during the beginning of every week, grumbling from all servants, anxiety on +the part of the members of the family about overcrowding the soiled-linen +basket, and often the clean clothes sent up "not fit to be seen." + +Another privilege which I find English servants possess, and which I +confess surprises me, is that of inviting friends to tea at the mistress's +expense. Every Sunday evening one or another servant holds a symposium of +choice spirits below stairs, for whom flows the infusion of the costly leaf +from far Cathay. No meat is allowed at these repasts, but tea, milk, sugar +and bread and butter are permitted to be offered. There is going on now an +earnest effort to put a stop to this practice. Economical housekeepers +very justifiably object to paying for treats to their servants' company. +But the custom has been handed down from the feudal days, when drinking and +eating were the only amusements within the scope of even the very rich, and +when every soul who in a friendly spirit passed the castle-walls was +welcome to all he could gorge or swill, or carry away in his two arms for +those he had left behind in his poor cottage. In what is known now as +"noble houses" the practice is still in force to a great extent. Does +master or mistress receive a call? Then wine and sweet biscuits are at once +to be carried into the drawing-room to beguile the caller's tedium in +waiting. Has a tradesman brought a package? Give the good man a mug of +beer. Have you come in a cab, and kept it standing outside? Here, quickly +take out some beer in a pewter tankard to comfort Cabby, which he tosses +off as he sits perched on the high seat of his hansom. In houses as lavish +as this a veritable banquet is served each day in the servants' hall, to +which the upper servants have the privilege of inviting their friends. And +so the custom goes on, dwindling in costliness until it reaches the homes +of people in fairly comfortable circumstances, who are struggling, but +almost in vain, to crush it. The trouble is, that when an English servant +enters a house where giving tea to her friends is not allowed, she is apt +to receive such pressure from her mother, who has been probably a servant +in the "good old days," and other conservative domestics of the lavish +school, that she will make the matter square by slyly appropriating that +which she believes should have been legitimately given; and once in this +path her peculations are apt to extend to things more valuable than bread +and tea. This is a great pity, for as a rule English servants are as honest +as the sun. There is not one drop of that Chinese blood which sets the +almond-eyed John to pilfering everything he can lay hands on flowing in +these honest Saxon veins. Of course there are always exceptions to any +rule, but for these exceptions there exists in England that inflexible +system of punishment by law whose motto most emphatically is, "It is a sin +to steal a pin." To be a thief in England is as poor a business as one +would wish to follow. + +In engaging a cook in England you find that she makes many demands you +never heard of in America. I have alluded to the refusal of all such +servants to have any hand in the laundry-work. In rich households +(especially in the country) a laundress and laundry-maid are regularly +employed, who have no work of any kind to do outside the laundry: they wash +and iron for the household, including the servants. In cities, however, and +in small families even in the country, the washing is generally done by a +laundress outside. No cook would tolerate washing and ironing anywhere +about the kitchen. + +The next imperative demand your cook will make will probably be to ask you +if you keep a scullery-maid or an "under-servant." If your purse will not +permit this luxury, what "assistance" is your cook to be furnished with? +This means, is she to have a "charwoman" once a week or oftener for the day +to clean pots and pans, scrub steps and passage-ways, and scour, dust and +rub up generally in the kitchen and rooms adjoining? In England this +cleaning business is far more formidable than with us. We lay down so much +oilcloth on our stairways and passage-ways, paint or cover with carpeting, +matting or oilcloth so many floors, that it is rather an infrequent +experience to see our servants down on their hands and knees scrubbing away +for dear life. Even in neat Philadelphia, where there is so much of brick +sidewalk and of marble doorstep to be cleaned, the use of hose and broom +has to a great extent superseded the scrubbing-brush oiled with +elbow-grease. But in England there are so many stone floors and steps to be +scrubbed, so much brass-work to be cleaned and polished, so many steel +grates, with tongs, poker and shovel, to be brightened till you can see +your face in them, that it is no wonder your cook would like to have +assistance in these heavy manual exertions. + +Ladies in England have found that when the work in their houses is such +that assistance must be had, it is better to keep an "under-servant" for +the cook (a position even less exalted than the "scullery-maid" in this +complex system of domestic gradations) than to have a charwoman come +occasionally. We have no special name for the "charwoman" in America, +unless it be simply the generic term, "a woman," or, to be Victor Hugoish, +the woman who cleans. Char (pronounced _chair_) is simply the old-fashioned +word still popular in New England, _chore_, and the charwoman is merely the +woman who does chores. English ladies say she does other and more +objectionable things. She drinks, for instance, and finds it necessary to +bring a basket with her, which, they think, would be found to be more +weighty on leaving (if the matter were tested) than it is when she arrives. +Another favorite plan for lightening labor, even with families who are in +moderate circumstances, is to keep a "Buttons," a useful little urchin, who +is forced to make himself respectable in appearance by wearing a livery +provided for him, the distinguishing feature of which is its lavishness in +the way of buttons. This boy is expected to do anything and everything--to +clean boots, fetch coal, run errands, open the door, assist in waiting at +table, rub up knives and silver; in short, to be at the beck and call of +everybody in the house for each and any duty. He may be called a sort of +light brigade or sharpshooter on the outposts between the heavy cavalry in +the kitchen in the shape of cook and the solid infantry which moves with +regular step through the housemaid's set round of duties. And whenever the +wheels of a household in England are found to creak, additional help in the +shape of under-servants is engaged, the matter of the efficiency of the +upper-servants being of course first satisfactorily settled. Here is the +very kernel of the nut of the question: this it is which makes "all the +difference" between the management of a house say in New York and a similar +one in London. A family without children, occupying a brown-stone front in +New York, will consider that two servants should do all the work of the +household, and do it well. I am not speaking of people who live on the +"swell" avenues and keep carriages or give frequent balls and parties: I +mean unpretending people who own or rent a nice three- or four-story house, +and want to live with entire comfort and freedom from rows or disputes with +servants, and expect to be well waited on. They engage cook and +chambermaid--the chambermaid to act also as waitress, both to act as +laundresses. High wages are given, and when the work is done +unsatisfactorily more money is offered as a bribe, or else there are +disagreeable scenes, ending with the lady saying hotly, "Well, if you can't +do my work, I'll find some one else who can." But she is mistaken. She will +never find two women who can cook, wash, iron, clean, dust, wait at table +and do the work generally of a three- or four-story house as it should be +done. In a household of that importance in England there would be hired, at +the least, cook and under-servant, housemaid and Buttons, and all the +laundry-work put out. + +And oh how smoothly life passes in such an English home! How brightly every +inch of brass shines! how well dusted is every article you touch! how clear +is the crystal for table use! how spotless the napery! how noiselessly your +servants move about! how respectfully each addresses the heads of the +household whenever required to do so, not otherwise! It is the very +perfection of service, and a luxurious satisfaction which we in America +rarely get a chance to enjoy. But the times are changing now. It may be +possible that in the future the demand-and-supply market for domestic +service may have so settled itself that for the money we have hitherto paid +as yearly wages to two only tolerable servants we shall obtain the services +of as many efficient ones as are needful to make our American homes the +equal of those in England for the quiet perfection of their interior +management. + +OLIVE LOGAN. + + + + +OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP. + + +FERNAN CABALLERO. + +About thirty years ago there appeared in the _Heraldo_ of Madrid a novel +called _La Gaviota_ ("The Sea-gull"). Spanish literature at the present day +is poor in novels, and thirty years ago it was much poorer. _La Gaviota_ +was like a tall tiger-lily suddenly appearing among low-growing exotics. +The book was what the French call a _roman de moeurs_: it was signed with +an unknown name--Fernan Caballero. Nobody knew Fernan Caballero. Madrid +concluded that it must be one of those great living writers whose names +could be counted on the first five sticks of a lady's fan. Seville ascribed +it to an author of local fame, and Cadiz was amazed by the fact that +anything so good could come out of Spain. The novel was eagerly read, even +by the Gallicanized element in society, and pronounced a success in all +things, except that it was not French. Following _La Gaviota_, _La Espana_ +published _Elia_ in its columns: then followed _La Familia Alvareda_, _Una +en Otra_, _Pobre Dolores_, _Lucas Garcia_ and others. It became evident +that the masked writer was a woman, but not one of those _femmes auteurs_ +of whom Louis Veuillot says, with more force than elegance, "Il me semble +que si ma femme signait tels livres, j'aurais scrupule a signer ses +enfants." Her thoughts were pure and high, and every detail was gifted with +life. + +The Spanish public was not particularly pleased to discover that its +admired Fernan was a woman. If Cervantes had been a woman, there would have +been a precedent for it; but Cervantes was a man. Fernan Caballero's +readers would have wavered in their allegiance had her stories not become a +part of themselves. It was unfortunate that a woman should write such +things. "A blue-stocking!" cries Don Judas Tadeo Barbo, representative of +this feeling, in _Una en Otra_. "Ave Maria! A woman who writes and rushes +into print! It is a mortal sin! A woman has as much business to write a +book as a man would to have a baby. And a pretty woman, too! Who would have +believed it? A woman who writes should be old, ugly and decrepit." + +In spite of the attention excited by her stories, she was still tenacious +of her mask. In a letter to Germonde de Lavigne, one of the French +translators of her works, she said: "It was cruel of you to tear away my +pseudonym. You know how much I value it. You perhaps wished me to make a +buckler of my fan; but, believe me, the beautiful things I have gathered do +not need it. I have not tried to put into my stories studies of the heart +or the world: there is neither art nor invention nor inspiration, only the +exact painting of our actual society. Spanish types of all classes, the +manners, the feelings, the witty and poetical language, I have painted from +the life. My personality and my name are things outside of these. All that +I have written is true. I cannot invent: I possess only the talent of +dovetailing facts and placing them in relief. I have passed my life in +collecting those treasures of tradition, poetry, stories, legends, pious +and poetic beliefs which make an atmosphere of picturesque purity--proverbs +like Sancho's, maxims as beautiful as Don Quixote, couched in the forcible +and flowery language of the people. I am as proud as an artist of the +beauty of my model. The story of _Lucas Garcia_ is true; I have known Simon +Verde; an old woman told me the story of the lottery in _La Estrella_; in +_Una en Otra_ everything is true. I have caught nearly all my dialogues +from the lips of the people who spoke them. I have gleaned the last grain +from a beautiful field, already growing desolate. I have made a sheaf, +despised perhaps to-day, although the world has gathered some corn-flowers +which fell from it, but which some day will be appreciated." + +"Like Sir Walter Scott," says M. de Mazade in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, +"Fernan Caballero has a lively feeling for the traditional and local in +regions of which she writes. Her first and only inspiration is Spain. She +loves even its miseries, which are not without their grandeur. Her +creations, her characters, her combinations, have no reflection of +imitation: they are taken from the heart of the national life. They proceed +from an observation of the reality and a feeling of the poetry of +things--two sentiments which, balancing each other and uniting, form true +and original invention. + +"Another trait in this rare talent," continues M. de Mazade--"a trait in +which the imagination of the woman is shown--is the absence of complication +in her tales: they have none of those hard knots that bind up action. +Fernan Caballero has a genius for details. She makes everything live. She +has an intuition of a thousand shades, often imperceptible to ordinary +eyes, which give each mood of Nature a distinct physiognomy. Like Sir +Walter--more than Sir Walter Scott--she enjoys digressions, sinuous +conversations; she abandons herself to them with delight; she draws +pictures and portraits, full of freshness, one after the other; she is +prodigal of all that can throw light on manners or character. She passes +with graceful ease from the refinements of the aristocratic world to the +most humble scenes of popular life." + +An author, it seems, is never _sui generis_ in the estimation of the +critics. Fernan Caballero, compared by M. Merimee to Sterne and by others +to Scott, imagined that if her talent was similar to anybody's it was like +Emile Souvestre's; but her models and method were as much like Souvestre's +as Spain is like France. Fernan Caballero--or, as she was known in real +life, Dona Caecilia de Baer, marquesa de Arco-Hermosa--may be compared, +reservedly, to Miss Mitford. It is true that fiery thoughts and violent +passion are not to be found in Miss Mitford's beautifully-enamelled +miniatures; but fire and passion were not apparent in the English life she +painted, while in the works of the Spanish artist passion glows under the +simplest forms, as the red of an orange among its leaves and blossoms. It +has been truly said of Madame de Baer that she gave a new world to Castile +and Leon--an Andalusian world--almost Arcadian in its newness and +simplicity. She showed to the world that the Spain of thirty years ago was +still the Spain of Don Quixote. "What was true yesterday," she quotes from +Calderon, "is true to-day." Our Don Quixote is not the Spanish Don Quixote. +"Sir Roger de Coverley, Sir Charles Grandison and Don Quixote," said +Colonel Newcome, "are the finest gentlemen in the world." The Spaniards see +in Don Quixote something higher. "In Cervantes," says Madame de Baer, "the +mind stifled the heart. It was not his heart that made of Don Quixote a +thing for laughter. Neither the casque of Mambrino nor the love of +Maritornes makes me laugh: it makes me weep." + +Progress--as the word is generally understood--also makes her sad. The +Andalusian, surrounded by a world of poetry and beauty, is happy in his +ignorance. He reads sermons in the lives of animals, poems in the trees, +maxims and proverbs everywhere. Why should he read them in books? In _La +Gaviota_, Frederick Stein, a German surgeon who has been thrown upon the +charity of some Spanish peasants, hears a shepherd mention an infallible +cure for pain in the eyes. Stein asks where this remedy is to be found. + +"I cannot tell you," answered the shepherd: "I know that there is such a +thing." + +"Who can find it, then?" asked Stein. + +"The swallows," said Jose. + +"The swallows!" + +"Yes, sir. It is an herb called _pito real_, which nobody knows or sees +except the swallows. When their little ones lose their sight they rub the +little eyes with the _pito real_, and cure them. This herb has also the +virtue of cutting iron and everything it touches." + +"What absurdities this Jose swallows like a real shark!" cried Manuel, +laughing.--"Don Frederico, he actually believes that snakes never die." + +"No, they never die," said the shepherd gravely: "when they see death +coming they escape from their skin and run away. When old they become +serpents: little by little scales and wings appear. They become dragons, +and return to the desert.--But you, Manuel--you do not wish to believe +anything. Do you also deny that the lizard is the friend of man? If you do +not believe it, ask Miguel." + +"Does he know it?" + +"Without doubt. He was sleeping in a field; a snake glided near him; a +lizard, which lay in the furrow, saw the snake, and presented itself to +defend Miguel. The lizard was large, and it fought with the snake; but +Miguel not awaking, the lizard pressed its tail against his nose, and ran +off as if its paws were on fire. The lizard is a good little beast: it +never sleeps in the sun without descending the wall to kiss the earth." + +Imagination in the Andalusian supplies the place of knowledge. He has a +precedent for everything. Tradition is the light that guides his feet. Let +him alone, says Fernan Caballero. Would he be happier if his wants were +greater--if his life were less simple? Would he be happier if he believed +less? If he thinks, with the good Maria in _La Gaviota_, that the Jews +formerly had caudal appendages, and that they are only now prevented from +wearing them by the ring that governs in place of the queen, _qu' importe_ +so long as a sick Jew will be treated as tenderly as a sick Christian? If +you could alter their ardent natures, if you could cut out the firm love +that often changes to fierce jealousy and deadly hate, you would improve +them and lessen crime; but that you cannot change until you can change the +climate. Change Spain to England, and you can have schools, trades-unions, +and all the modern improvements; but while Spain is Spain you of the North +can neither understand nor reform her. + +And strange it is that this author, who has identified herself with Spain, +is not Spanish. Her father was John Nicolas Boehl de Fabre, who migrated +from Hamburg to Cadiz: to him Spain owes a collection of ancient poetry, +_Floresta de Rimas Antiquas Castellanas_. His daughter Caecilia was born in +1797 at Morges in Switzerland. The publication of her first work was due to +the advice and encouragement of Washington Irving. She first wrote an +exquisite idyl of Andalusian life, _The Alvareda Family_, in German, and +then translated it into Spanish. Irving admired it in manuscript, and +induced her to go to work on another, which appeared under the title of _La +Gaviota_--a title borrowed from its wild and untamable heroine, Marisalada +Santalo. This second story at once made her reputation in Europe. It stands +at the head of her numerous works. The character of the uncontrollable +heroine is developed as by a master-hand, and the handling of the story +until it culminates in Marisalada's passion for Pepe Vera and the despair +of her husband, Stein, is graphic and almost too pitiless. Don Modesto, +commandant of Fort San Cristobal, is worthy of the hand of Cervantes. The +author has received the greatest compliment that unliterary Spain could pay +her: a complete edition of her works was issued--_not_ at the expense of +the queen--by Don Francesco de Mallado at Madrid. + +Madame de Baer was married three times; so, besides her three cognomens, it +is well that she has one that will always be remembered--Fernan Caballero. +During the reign of Isabella she occupied apartments in the Alcazar of +Seville, but after the revolution she removed to the Calle de Burgos, where +she lived quietly among those lifelong friends, her flowers and books. +During her last illness the ex-queen and the duke and duchess de +Montpensier were her frequent visitors. She died on the seventh of April of +this year. + +M. F. E. + + +THE OCTROI. + +Those travellers who, after an excursion to the suburbs of Paris, see their +carriage stopped by an official in a green tunic with silver buttons, who +asks solemnly, "Have you anything to declare?" are usually far from +imagining that they are witnessing a manifestation of one of the most +important of the Parisian financial functions. For such undoubtedly must +the _octroi_ be considered. It is the tax that supports Paris--that pays +for her improvements, her cleansing, her lighting, her poor-fund--that +supports the hospitals, keeps her pavements and sewers in repair, and, in a +word, pays all her necessary expenses. It encircles Paris as with an iron +hand; it watches at every gate, at every quay, at every entrance-point to +the city; it is for ever on the alert to discover fraud. One hundred and +twenty-five officers and three thousand subordinates are employed in +collecting this colossal tax and in guarding against its being evaded. The +revenue thus produced has amounted during the last few years to over +twenty-five millions of dollars annually. No wonder that Paris can afford +to beautify herself with new adornments continually. She is a millionaire +among cities, and can pay for new decorations at will. + +The octroi, in its present form, is a comparatively modern institution. It +dates from the 18th of October, 1798. Before the law was passed Paris had +fallen into a piteous plight. The contractors threatened to cease all +operations; nobody had been paid for a long time; the city was not even +able to pay the pitiful sum of sixteen thousand francs which was owing to +the street-sweepers. Out of this municipal poverty arose the octroi, and +during the first year of its functions it produced over a million and a +half of dollars. Yet it was far from bringing in at that time all that it +should have done, owing to the insufficient force of agents employed and +the gigantic frauds that were perpetrated on all sides. As soon as night +came the smugglers set to work at all the unprotected points--and they were +many--of the fortifications. Ladders were planted against the walls, and +barrels of wine, bottles of brandy, packets of butcher's meat, etc. were +lowered into the city by means of cords. Subterranean passages were dug, +establishing a communication between the interior and the exterior of the +city. It was not till the reign of the First Napoleon that these abuses +were definitely suppressed. + +Nearly every article of daily consumption that enters Paris is taxed by +the octroi--meat, wine, spirits, fruits, vegetables, ice, wood, coal, +etc.--and also all building materials. It has been estimated that the +octroi-tax on an edifice in Paris that costs twenty thousand dollars +amounts to one thousand dollars. The largest part of the revenue is +acquired from wines and spirits. Wine pays about twenty-three francs on the +hectolitre: it is taxed by quantity, and not _ad valorem_; which is an act +of crying injustice to the poor man, whose cup of _petit bleu_ must pay as +much as does the goblet of old Burgundy of the millionaire. One of the +heaviest taxed of all articles is absinthe, owing to the desire of the +authorities to suppress the use of it as much as possible. After all claims +upon it are acquitted a bottle of absinthe will be found to have been +charged nearly four hundred per cent. on its original value. + +This law, which strikes not only absinthe, but all other kinds of liqueurs +and of spirits, with excessive duties, was passed in 1871, and the effects +were immediately manifest, only sixty thousand hectolitres of alcohol being +brought into Paris in 1872, against one hundred and sixty-nine thousand in +1871. The immense consumption of absinthe, which just before the war was so +marked a feature of the cafe-life of Paris, has now greatly decreased. But +to make this temperance movement on the part of the French authorities +fully effectual, the tax on _vin ordinaire_ should have been taken off +altogether. + +These heavy duties have naturally called into being among the quick-witted +French an active system of frauds against the octroi; and that is not the +least interesting part of the question to study. Against these petty +smugglers a band of picked officials, selected for their probity and +intelligence from among the whole force of the service of the octroi, has +been organized. Eighteen among these act as detectives. They wear no +uniform, assume various disguises, and are well acquainted with all the +mysterious nooks of Paris and with all the holes and corners of the +suburbs. They seem to scent out a fraud as a hunting-dog does game. Thus, +a few years ago two huge blocks of Swiss granite passed the barriers +unquestioned. Some keen-witted detective immediately asked himself why and +for what purpose had those great masses of stone been brought from such a +distance. He prowled about them for a little while, observed a curious +depression in one end of the largest block, and ended by discovering that +both were hollow and were packed full of contraband goods. + +The custom-house authorities have formed a museum of the most curious of +the objects that have been captured whilst passing the barriers, and that +were constructed for the purposes of fraud. The list is an interesting one, +and reflects great credit upon the ingenuity of the smugglers, if not upon +their honesty. False busts worn by make-believe wet nurses, false abdomens, +hats with double crowns, hollow horse-collars, footstools lined with tin, +carriage-seats concealing tin boxes, etc., etc., abound. There, too, may be +seen a pile of pieces of linen fastened together with a cord, each of which +is simply a box of zinc covered with linen. This trick was really +ingenious, and was detected in a very odd way. The wagon that conveyed this +merchandise into Paris was marked on the side "Toiles et Nouveautes," and +the letters struck the custom-house agents as being a great deal too large +and conspicuous. Hence arose suspicion and a thorough examination. + +The museum also preserves among its curiosities an ordinary-looking cab, +which is a hollow structure made of painted tin. There, too, are to be seen +piles of common plates, as innocent-looking as it is possible for crockery +to be. The first half dozen plates are all right: the rest are perforated +and conceal a tube of tin. It will be seen that all these contrivances are +directed toward the smuggling of one article--namely, spirits. + +The product of the octroi averages about sixty francs per annum for every +inhabitant of Paris. It is an indirect income-tax which is exacted from +every dweller in the city. Unfortunately, its operations weigh heavily only +on the very poorest classes. The banker of the Faubourg St. Honore or the +noble of the Faubourg St. Germain troubles himself very little about the +extra price that he is thus forced to pay for his salmon or his chambertin. +But among the very poor, those whose daily expenditure is counted not by +sous, but by centimes, this tax is very severely felt. It is argued, +however, that the poor man profits even more by the product of this tax +than does the rich one, the hospitals, for instance, being chiefly +maintained by its means. + +L. H. H. + + +FOREIGN LEADERS IN RUSSIA AND TURKEY. + +There is an old regimental tradition, which meets the Eastern traveller at +times in Egyptian hotels and Indian mess-rooms, that an English interpreter +in the Turkish service, being present at a conference between his pasha and +a Russian general, was just commending the two as "admirable specimens of +their respective races," when suddenly General Kormiloff and Selim Pasha, +after staring at each other for a moment, broke out simultaneously, "Eh, +Donald Campbell, are _ye_ here?"--"Gude keep us, Sandy Robertson! can this +be _you_?" + +This is merely a grotesque version of an actual and very significant +fact--viz. that both the Russian and his hereditary enemy have achieved +many of their greatest triumphs under the command of foreigners. The +prominence of the latter in the military history of both nations is of +considerable antiquity. As early as 1397, Sultan Bajazet formed the +Christian captives of Nikopolis into the formidable brigade whose title of +_Yengi Scheri_ ("new soldiers") gave rise to the terrible name of +_Janissary_; while several of the earlier czars in like manner surrounded +themselves with a foreign body-guard. Coming down to later times, we find +the Tartar Skuratoff acting as the right-hand man of Ivan the Terrible +(1531-84). In the ensuing century the Russian centre at Smolensk was +commanded by the terrible Sir Thomas Dalziel of Binns, afterward the +fiercest persecutor of the Scottish Covenanters. Peter the Great's best +officer was General Gordon, a cadet of the Huntley family, and his best +engineer was M. Lefort, a native of Geneva. The Turkish service, too, +contained at this time several Swiss and Frenchmen (mostly refugees from +the religious persecutions of Louis XIV.), some of whom attained high rank. + +In the earlier part of the eighteenth century the fame of the new military +system established by Frederick William of Prussia and his son, Frederick +the Great, led the sovereigns of Russia to give the most liberal +encouragement to any German officers who could be persuaded to undertake +the training of their ill-disciplined levies. Among these imported +generals[D] the most distinguished was the celebrated Marshal Muennich, +commander-in-chief of the Russian army under the empresses Anne and +Elizabeth, the latter of whom at length banished him to Siberia, whence he +was not recalled till the accession of Peter III. in 1762. His Russian +successor, Apraxin, was speedily superseded by an Englishman named William +Fermor, a distant relation of the beautiful heroine of Pope's _Rape of the +Lock_; but the total defeat of this new leader by Frederick the Great at +Zorndorf in 1758 ousted _him_ in his turn, and the imperial troops were +commanded by native Russians up to the end of the Seven Years' War. But +under the far-sighted rule of Catherine II., who ascended the throne in +1763, the German element began to predominate once more, and speedily +attained such prominence that toward the middle of her reign, before +Suvaroff's formidable renown had raised the prestige of the native stock, +the proportion of foreign officers (chiefly Germans) in the Russian service +was estimated at not less than eighty-five per cent. It was in allusion to +this circumstance that the grim old marshal, himself a Russian _pur sang_, +answered Catherine's gracious inquiry how she could best reward his +services by saying, with characteristic bluntness, "Mother Katrina, make me +a German!" + +About the same period several Irish soldiers of fortune, driven from home +by political troubles, appeared in the Turkish ranks, as well as not a few +Poles, dispossessed by the "second partition" of their country, and longing +for a chance of avenging the wrong. Several of these adventurers adopted +the Mohammedan faith, and, gaining the entire confidence of their adopted +countrymen, were enabled to inflict considerable injury upon the invading +armies of Russia. But the greatest service rendered to the Crescent by a +foreigner at that time (we might almost say the greatest which it ever +received) was achieved in 1802 by the French envoy, Colonel (afterward +General) Sebastiani. When a British squadron lay off Prinkipos Island, +within easy reach of Constantinople, threatening it with instant +bombardment, the undaunted ambassador, defying alike the hostile guns and +the fury of the fanatical mob, calmly set himself to achieve the same task +which General Todleben accomplished in the Crimea half a century later. +Under his vigorous superintendence the city was impregnably fortified by +the incessant labor of a single week, while a show of negotiation diverted +the attention of the English admiral; and the hostile squadron, suddenly +confronted by twelve hundred heavy guns, was forced to retire with +considerable loss. + +The enlightened rule of Alexander I., whose zeal for the improvement of +Russia quickened instead of keeping down his appreciation of foreign +talent, filled the Russian camp with officers from Western Europe. +Benningsen, the most formidable antagonist of Napoleon in 1807; Pfuhl, who +constructed the fortified camp of Drissa in 1812; Barclay de Tolly, the +Russian commander-in-chief in the early part of that memorable campaign; +Wittgenstein, who bore the palm of valor during the invasion of France in +1814; the great strategist Jomini, who was Alexander's aide-de-camp; and +Langeron, whose storming of Montmartre sealed the fate of Paris,--were all +men of foreign blood. Even after the accession of the Russomaniac Nicholas +in 1825, the "over-the-frontier men," as the natives emphatically call +them, continued to hold the same prominent place. The Russian navy, indeed, +which in the time of Catherine II. owed to Western Europe the only three +competent seamen whom it possessed--Greig, Elphinstone and Dugdale--was by +this time officered chiefly by native Russians, though still manned by +Finns, Greeks and Livonians; but in the army Count Diebitsch himself, the +hero of 1828-29, and his two principal subordinates, Generals Roth and +Ruediger, were of German descent. In the Crimean war the array of foreign +names on either side was still more striking. Omar Pasha, perhaps the +greatest general whom Turkey has ever possessed, was a Hungarian deserter +from the Austrian army, his true name being Theodore Lattos. The defence of +Silistria was the work of two English subalterns, Lieutenant Nasmyth and +Captain Butler. Ibrahim Aga, the veteran of Sultan Mahmoud's Egyptian wars, +was originally Thomas Keith, a gunsmith from the "Old Town" of Edinburgh. +Omar Pasha's best cavalry officer in 1853, Iskander Bey, was a Polish +refugee, by name Michael Tchaikovski, whose stirring war-songs are still +affectionately preserved by his countrymen. Bairam Pasha was merely the +Turkish alias of General Cannon. Among the Russians, again, General +Todleben, incomparably the greatest name of the war on their side, was a +Courlander from Mitau. Prince Paskievitch, the conqueror of Erivan and +besieger of Silistria, sprang from a Slavonian family in Transylvania. +Generals von Schilders, Aurep and von Lueders, though Russian subjects, were +all of foreign extraction, as were also Count Osten-Sacken and General +Dannenberg. + +But it is in the present war that the foreign element has asserted itself +most conspicuously. Whether on the Russian or the Turkish side, almost +every leader of note is a foreigner. The Turkish fleet is commanded by an +Englishman, who still retains his own name of Augustus Hobart. Another +Englishman--the notorious Colonel Valentine Baker, called, like his +brother, Sir Samuel, "Baker Pasha"--heads the cavalry of the army of the +Danube. The sultan's two best engineers, under whose guidance Shumla has +been refortified, though now known to fame as Reschid Pasha and Blum Pasha, +were serving not many years since in the German army as Captains Strecker +and Blume. Mehemet Ali Pasha himself, the late commander-in-chief, is a +Prussian, born in Berlin. Suleiman Pasha's chief of staff is Bielowski, a +Pole, known in the Turkish army as General Nihad, and General Mina, +recently appointed to the command of a cavalry division at Rasgrad, is a +Belgian. On the Russian side, again, Generals Loris-Melikoff and +Tergukassoff are Armenians, the former having made his first step to renown +by attracting Count Mouravieff's notice as an active young dragoon officer +in the Kars campaign of 1855. General Oklobschio, who commanded before +Batoum last summer, though for many years in the Russian service, is by +birth a Montenegrin, and has the rashness as well as the valor of his +warlike countrymen. Baron Krudener, of Plevna notoriety, comes of a German +family which settled in Russia toward the close of the last century. The +gallant Scobeleff is said to belong to the Ayrshire family of Scobie. +General Nepokoitchitski is a Pole. Prince Tcherkasski has a tinge of +Tartar, Prince Mirski of Polish, blood. General Gourko springs from a +Cossack family of formidable renown in the Turkish and Polish wars of the +seventeenth century; and the family name of General Zimmermann, the leader +of the Dobrudscha army, speaks for itself. + +Nor is all this to be wondered at. The Turk and the Russian, closely alike +in many points, are more especially so in this--that both can follow and +neither can lead. In steadfast obedience and endurance of every extreme of +hardship they have no superior on the face of the earth, but the prompt +energy of the man who is accustomed to think and act for himself in every +emergency is wanting to both. Under the command of a skilful general both +Russian and Turkish troops will advance unflinchingly against the strongest +position, or hold their ground with that stubborn tenacity which Frederick +the Great aptly illustrated by saying that "when you fight with a Russian +you must kill him first and knock him down afterward." But let them once be +deprived of their leader or lose their solid formation, and their +helplessness becomes instantly manifest. + +D. K. + + +THE DEPARTURE OF THE IMPERIAL GUARDS. + +Moscow, Sept. 11 (Aug. 30, Russian style), 1877. + +Excitement here is now a veritable epidemic. Go where you will, +charity-boxes, designating the purpose for which alms are solicited, and +each boasting the bright crimson cross stamped on a pure white surface, +meet your eye. They are affixed to the walls of the various _ooclitzas_ (or +roads) traversing this mighty city; they greet you at the entrance of every +church and cathedral, the charming little English church occupying a site +in the Tchernetchefsky Perculok forming no exception to the rule; do you +happen to enter "Gurin's," the well-known Muscovitish restaurant, the +probability is that your charity "on behalf of the sick and wounded" is +instantly demanded by a lady, who, duly escorted by some member of the +"nobler sex," has taken upon herself the duty of "begging" in this +particular district. The topic of--as also endless incidents attendant +upon--this deplorable war meets one at every point--in the lowest +_peeteny-dom_ (drinking-house); in every shop; in the very _droshky_ which +one hires, the driver (_eezvostchik_) being invariably well versed in the +latest phases of the combat. + +To-day a fresh impetus has been given by the departure from Moscow, after a +two days' stay here, of a portion of the Imperial Guards from St. +Petersburg _en route_ for the field--were it not better to say many +fields?--of battle. This body, numbering about thirty-six hundred officers +and soldiers, was despatched from the modern capital in instalments of six +hundred men. The Guards, it must be remembered, constitute the flower and +pride of the Russian army, and it is impossible that they could be regarded +in any other light. A veritable set of giants, so to speak, they one and +all appeared, clad in their rough brown winter gear, with heavy top-boots, +and carrying heavy knapsacks with superfluous pairs of nailed high boots +strapped thereon. + +The organization of the Imperial Guard dates from the reign of the most +autocratic of the czars. Peter the Great, left fatherless at an early age, +spent his childhood in the village of Preobragensky, situated not many +versts from Moscow, where his greatest delight, as he grew in years, was to +assemble the youths of the village and train them into a fighting corps, +constituting himself their captain. But the youthful hero was not content +with this venture. He also made friends with the boys of the neighboring +village--Semenovsky by name--and assembled them in like fashion. Hence the +names attached to the first and second regiments of the _Infanterie de la +Garde_--Preobragensky and Semenovsky. In after-life Peter retained the rank +in early days thus self assumed, remaining captain of his favorite +Preobragensky regiment. + +The Infanterie de la Garde consists of three divisions, each comprising +four regiments. The first division, besides the two already named, includes +the regiments designated as Ismailovsky and the Chasseurs de la Garde. The +regiments of the second division are named, respectively, Pavlovsky, Les +Grenadiers de la Garde, Moscovsky, and De Finlande. The third division +embraces the Volensky and Letovsky regiments, as also those dubbed +L'Empereur d'Autriche and L'Empereur de Prusse. The cavalry has also three +divisions, the first comprising the four regiments named Les Chevalier +Gardes, Les Gardes a Cheval, Les Cuirassiers de l'Empereur and Les +Cuirassiers de I'Imperatrice; the second, Les Hussards de l'Empereur, Les +Lanciers du Grand Duc Nicolas, Les Grenadiers a Cheval, and Les Dragons de +l'Empereur; and the third, two regiments, Les Lanciers de l'Empereur and +Les Hussards de Grodno. + +Soon after six o'clock A. M., on a bleak and rainy morning, I found my way +in a horribly shaky and shabby droshky to the railway terminus, where the +soldiers were gathered, many of them accompanied by friends and near +relations, principally, however, women--mothers, wives and children. +Nearly all were seated on the wide platforms stretching in various +directions. They sat in clusters, some drinking the inevitable _chipeet_ +(tea), but perhaps quite as many _votky_ (a kind of brandy). The majority +were talking fast and gesticulating vigorously in true Russian style. Many, +however, were singing and shouting, out of sheer bravado, as it seemed. +"Yes, they would meet their fate thus. It were better far than weeping; and +there were but two alternatives: why choose the last named?" One +bronze-featured Muscovite specially attracted my notice. A burst of noisy +song--little short of a scream in fact--came from his lips ever and anon, +alternating with a stormy burst of laughter or a sudden flow of tears. I +watched him with considerable interest. This, I reflected, was a type of +the wellnigh universal Russian temperament--sad to-day, gay to-morrow: in +the very depths of despair one moment, brimming over with joy the next. But +there were other groups; and herein lay another characteristic feature in +the picture. Here and there a soldier was endeavoring to drown not only his +own feelings, but also those of the surrounding circle, by plunging into +all the wild vagaries of the Russian dance; and furiously his arms as well +as his legs worked to do full justice to the famous national jig. "Hurrah! +hurrah!" rang cheerily from the lips of many around, still struggling hard +with their tears. "Apait! apait!" ("Again! again!"). Knapsacks lay +scattered all around. The troops were all ready to be summoned at a word +and packed into the various carriages, or rather vans, holding an average +number of thirty-five. Alongside the station stood a regiment newly +arrived, and waiting to take the place of that which was about to leave. + +We passed slowly along the line, glancing at the many heavily-laden wagons, +and then at compartment after compartment filled with fine-looking but +highly-disconcerted horses, rebelling at the restrictions as regarded space +imposed upon them. + +"I declare I am as utterly sorry for the horses as for the men," exclaimed +a soft-hearted Russian lady. "To think of the poor dumb brutes all going +thus helplessly to their fate!" + +A tent erected for the officers and their friends stood on our left, and, +forming part of a privileged party, we entered it. A long table, supplied +with the daintiest of viands, provided by the citizens, extended through +its entire length. Many ladies were present, some weeping bitterly. Few +waited for a formal introduction before exchanging words. "Your son, +madame? it is from him you are about to part?"--"And my husband, madame. +All my other sons are there already. May God help and protect +them!"--"Amen!" is the involuntary answer. + +The officers--most of them chatting, and many of them even laughing +gayly--are drinking wine, exchanging felicitations and good-wishes, and +touching glasses across the table. In the midst of all I spied a mouse--a +tame one, surely--careering about at pleasure. + +But in another minute the aspect of affairs had changed. The word of +command had suddenly been given, the officers marched out, the troops +crouched in such numbers on the platforms rose promptly to their feet, +grasping their knapsacks; and then the women's arms were bound fast around +the necks of those stepping, now fast, according to orders, into the +carriages immediately facing them. The notes of the Russian hymn rose and +fell from time to time: many of the voices were more than half choked. + +In flocked all, the sobbing women left behind, with heads wrapped up in the +thick woollen Russian shawl or extemporized _bashlik_, "crossing" their +departing friends three times in earnest and true Russian fashion, praying +Heaven to bless them. And then all waited, all was ready: the long line of +carriages was already moving off. + +"Preicheit!" ("Good-bye!") rose from the lips of those around, but +the word was quickly supplemented by another more suggestive of +pleasantness--"Dussvedinia!" ("Au revoir!"), which was echoed again and +again. The train moved now more quickly. The soldiers shouted, cried and +laughed alternately, waving their caps in signal of adieu. "What matters +it?" shouted one: "we must all die once." The officers grasped firmly the +hands of those yet marching bareheaded by their side along the platform: +the lonely women left behind, many of them gray-headed, fell, some of them, +senseless on the ground. + +E. S. + + +A MISSING ITEM. + +Among the long and varied list of reasons assigned for the financial +reverses of the past five years, we do not recollect to have discovered the +falling off of European immigration. This would appear one of the most +obvious and controlling of them all. About a million less have been added +from abroad to the population of the Union within that time than the +figures of a like number of years immediately preceding caused to be +expected. If, according to the prevailing estimate, each individual thus +acquired is worth a thousand dollars to the country, its aggregate loss in +this way far exceeds the sum sunk in superfluous railways, to which +extravagance almost exclusively the custom is to ascribe the revulsion. +Eight hundred or a thousand millions of money which the country had under +its hands as it were, reckoned among its available assets and used in +gauging the immediate future of its industry, suddenly vanished. The direct +abstraction from its resources of so large an item could not fail to be +seriously felt. It amounts to the reduction of an average State to a desert +condition--to the loss of twice as many pairs of stout hands as were +sacrificed in the four years of civil war. The homes marked out for them +are desolate, the waste places they would have made to bloom given to the +weeds, the industries which craved them paralyzed, and the wealth they were +to create cancelled. + +Such is undoubtedly the economic aspect of this check to the movement of +human freight upon the Atlantic. Viewed from the politico-social side, its +effects will not be deemed so unfortunate even by those whose confidence in +the assimilative power of our institutions is most unqualified. A million +and a half or two millions of matriculates at the great modern political +school is quite a liberal allowance for one decade. Twice the number might +press heavily on the provision made for adequate tuition. The results of +the course upon those who have already graduated, born at home or abroad, +are not at all too flattering. In the West, where our European guests most +do congregate, notions are discoverable of a very helter-skelter +description upon divorce, the "rights of labor," and religion in the public +schools--notions which, whether sound or the reverse, clearly need settling +rather than additional disturbance. The case is similar in cities and +densely-peopled districts at the East, where the same element has especial +weight. At the same time, it is difficult to say how far this association +of facts is accidental or necessary and significant. The proportion of +crotchety agitators among the population of foreign birth we believe to be +actually less than among the natives. Certainly, our most mischievous +"ringmasters" in partisan politics have been Americans. Immigrants do not +usually bring that class of men with them. As to the masses, it can rarely +be said that the European peasant, as he reaches our shores, is calculated +to demoralize his new neighbors in personal and social habits. He is never +intemperate, unless he come from the British Isles, and his tastes and +amusements are simple and often refined. We are in the habit of supposing +that what inferiority the Briton of the lower classes may labor under in +these respects is made up by his superior political information and +training to free institutions. + +The arrivals on our shores represent so many different nationalities that +the faults of each may be balanced by the better traits of others, and that +the chances of good qualities overpowering bad in the resultant compound is +inferable from the exceptionally favorable conditions of life which draw +them so far from home. They are so many convergent threads of different +strength and fineness, twisted into one on the Cisatlantic spindle, to be +then woven into the broad and ever-widening web. The weaving process may +possibly be too much hurried; and that is about the only compensation we +have for the loss of so many hundreds of thousands of allies in our contest +with the wilderness. + + +A CRYING EVIL. + +Is there no grand jury for the train-boy? Can he not be presented and +abated as a nuisance? He runs every day the gauntlet of hundreds of these +inquests, strung along the thousands of miles he makes hateful to the +traveller. Yet he still treads unchecked and unabashed his endless round of +evil-doing. To realize the enormity of the wrong let us fancy him +abandoning his stronghold in the railway carriage and adventuring his raids +on terra firma. How long would the most patient of publics endure his +promenading the sidewalk three times an hour each way, and every time +thrusting upon the occupants of every house, at work, at amusement or at +meals, a package of candy, a semi-rancid orange, or a wholly rancid novel? +He would be clapped into quod and permanently extinguished before +completing his third tour of the square. + +The railways have no police to do us this good turn. If they have any, this +youth of the period has purchased their silence. The passenger is handed +over to him like a sheep, his helpless victim, bought with a price. No +means of escape are left open. Frowns and cold shoulders are thrown away on +him. A calm ignoring of his existence is but a spur to his determination to +conquer you. He sets you down as a foeman worthy of his steel. "Ah, old +fellow!" he soliloquizes as he takes your measure, "I'll have you yet. If +you are not politician enough to want yesterday morning's triple sheet +_Tomahawk_, you will want to bury yourself from my reach in the mazy tables +of last year's _Railway Guide_, or, if not that, you'll be glad, after a +while, to let me soothe you with a willow-leaf Havana." Revolving these +thoughts, he strolls imperturbably on, for he understands you perfectly, as +he does all the rest of his various victims. + +Discouragement is a word he has no use for. He does not seem to sell +anything. Sometimes you will listlessly yet curiously observe his career, +and settle back into your seat in luxurious satisfaction as he emerges +through the rear door without having effected a solitary transaction. +Better still, he caught his basket in the doorway, and spilled some of his +oranges under the feet of yon slumbering rustic: no, he recovered himself +too soon. He never drops anything except of set purpose--a circular or the +book it recommends. A passenger will occasionally do it, or be made to seem +to do it, and then have of course to purchase the article under foot; but +that is a trick of trade, and one the average train-boy is not master of, +the leaders of the craft only being adepts in it. + +On some lines the train-boy was formerly utilized in summer by handing +round ice-water to the thirsty at stated intervals. But the thirsty were a +minority: the cans would splash on the sufficiently moist majority, and +that device for contriving a _raison d'etre_ for the train-boy was +abandoned. He is now more inexcusable and more ubiquitous than ever. He and +cinders are twin evils born of fast schedules. To add four or five miles an +hour to the old rate, station refreshment-booths and platform-peddlers and +spark-catchers have been abolished. The local peanut interest has been +ruthlessly immolated on the altar of Hurry, and the incense of the same +rite poured in, thick and black, at every car-window and ventilator. Let us +hope for an early change in the mode of worship. This acolyte is unknown in +Europe. Travellers there manage to lunch, read and smoke very comfortably +without him; and they can do it here with perfect ease if similar methods +are adopted for supplying their real wants. + +E. B. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[D] These adventurers are easily distinguished from their native comrades +by the fact of all purely _Russian_ names terminating either in "-off" or +"-in." + + + + +LITERATURE OF THE DAY. + + + The Life of Count Cavour. Translated from the French of + Charles de Mazade. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. + +In this substantial volume M. Charles de Mazade has related in a very +interesting manner the history of an extraordinarily interesting career. +Cavour's career was a short one--the space of eleven years covers the whole +of it, and the shorter space of six years witnessed its most striking +achievements--but it was nevertheless one of the most remarkable and most +active in the annals of statesmanship. Clearly and harmoniously unfolded as +it is in these pages, it reads indeed like a romance or a fairy-tale: there +seems almost an element of magic in Cavour's inveterate successes. M. de +Mazade is a passionate admirer of his hero, and the story loses in his +hands none of its brilliancy of coloring. But it needs no retouching: the +naked facts themselves are a drama, with all the necessary requisites--the +large and moving argument, the skilful performers, the thickening plot, the +moment of suspense, the happy denouement, the attentive auditory. The work +accomplished by Cavour had a peculiar completeness and unity: it was a +single, consistent task cut out for him by circumstances. It is sometimes +said of him that circumstances had more part in the result than the man +himself, and that if they had not happened to combine themselves again and +again in a peculiarly favorable manner the liberator of Italy would not +have been known beyond the limits of the quiet little kingdom of Piedmont. +But M. de Mazade points out that Cavour's greatness was precisely in his +marvellous talent for making his occasion--for knowing just the way in +which to take hold of circumstances. From the day on which, of his own +moment and as the first step in a far-seeing plan, he sent, in the face of +domestic opposition, a Piedmontese contingent to the Crimean war, he +pursued this vigilant culture of opportunity without faltering or going +astray. M. de Mazade characterizes him as an extraordinary mixture of +prudence and boldness; and these qualities with him always went hand in +hand. He knew equally well how to wait and when to act. But it is the +element of discretion, the art of sailing with the current of events, that +enabled him to effect a great revolution by means that were, after all, in +relation to the end in view, not violent--by measures that were never +reckless, high-handed or of a character to force from circumstances more +than they could naturally yield. For M. de Mazade, Cavour is the model of +the moderate and conservative liberal. Liberal he was, as a friend said of +him, "as he was fair-complexioned, lively and witty--by birth." But M. de +Mazade constantly emphasizes the fact that his liberalism was untinged by +the radical leaven, and that if he was a liberator, he had nothing in +common with some of the gentry who aspire to this title. All this is very +obvious. Cavour was not only the champion of his country: he was also the +servant of his king, and his dream was to see Italy not only united, but +brought under the sway of the old Piedmontese crown. He often said, +according to M. de Mazade, that no republic can give as much liberty, and +as real liberty, as a constitutional monarchy that operates regularly. It +is noticeable that, keeping in view his hero's conservative side, M. de +Mazade relates in considerable detail the story of the liberation of Italy, +with no allusion to Mazzini beyond speaking of him two or three times as a +vulgar and truculent conspirator, and with a regrettable tendency to stint +the mixture of praise to the erratic but certainly, during a most important +period, efficient Garibaldi. But Cavour's nature was a wonderfully rich and +powerful one; and there is something very striking in such religious +devotion to an idea when it is unaccompanied with fanaticism or narrowness +of view, and tempered with good sense and wit and the art of taking things +easily. + +Cavour had had his idea from the first: he cherished it for a long time +very quietly: he was awaiting his opportunity. "We will do something," he +said one day in 1850, rubbing his hands--his legendary gesture--as he +looked across Lago Maggiore to the Austrian shore. It was not till 1855 +that the first serious opportunity came, but he attached himself to this +with the quiet zeal and obstinacy of a man who feels that he is driving in +the narrow end of the wedge. There were all sorts of telling objections to +be made to the co-operation of Piedmont in the Crimean war, and Cavour was +at the disadvantage, for a man who was rigidly and supremely practical, of +having to defend his course on ideal and far-fetched grounds. But his +idealism proved to be plain good sense: it brought little Piedmont to the +notice of Europe, and gave her the right to call attention to her affairs. +The young Italian officer spoke the truth who said to a poor soldier +struggling with the mud in the Crimean trenches, "Never mind--make the best +of it: with this mud we are making Italy!" As Piedmont had had a hand in +the war, so she had a seat at the Congress of Paris which followed it; and +here Cavour, finding his auditory ready made to his hand, introduced--a +little perhaps by the shoulders--the then comparatively novel "Italian +question." This was his second opportunity. The emperor Napoleon had asked +him, from an impulse of imperial civility, "If there was any thing he could +do for Italy?" and Cavour, taking him at his word, and more than his word, +had instantly drawn up a list of _desiderata_. M. de Mazade gives a +detailed and very interesting account of the gradual adoption by the +emperor of his Italian policy--of the various phases through which it +passed, of its complications and interruptions, and of Napoleon's curiously +fitful, illusive and at times evasive attitudes. Cavour's relations with +Napoleon III. may serve as the best example of his disposition to use the +best instruments and opportunities that offered themselves, and not quarrel +with them because they were not ideally perfect. This was what the Italian +"patriots" of the mere romantic type could never forgive: that Italy should +appeal for liberation to the oppressor of France was to them a displeasing +and monstrous anomaly. But Cavour had a lively sense of reality in human +affairs, and for him the best thing was the best possible thing. It was +enough that--for reasons best known to himself--the "Man of December" had +taken a fancy to this idea of lending a hand to the oppressed Peninsula: +his own duty was to fan the flame. The emperor's sympathy with Italian +independence is certainly the most interesting and honorable feature in his +career, and its mingled motives and mysterious fluctuations present a very +curious study. The desire to do something for Italy was, however, +steadfast, and had been an early dream; and the reader of M. de Mazade's +pages can easily believe that Cavour's personal influence and magnetism +had something--had even a good deal--to do with bringing it to a climax. +Napoleon appreciated the Piedmontese statesman, and felt his superiority. +From a certain ideal point of view there is something displeasing in seeing +the advocate of so noble a cause dancing attendance upon an unscrupulous +adventurer, and hanging as it were upon his lips; but we know not what +other ways there may have been: we only know that, in fact, a great deal of +generous French blood was shed upon the plains of Lombardy. + +After the Congress of Paris, Cavour spent two years of eager, anxious +waiting and of the most active private agitation. It was by the aid of +England and France combined that he proposed to compass his aim, but he +had, in the case of England, to content himself with a strictly Platonic +sympathy. His mingled ardor and tact during this period, his tension of +purpose, and yet his self-restraint, his inveterate skill in turning events +to his advantage, are vividly narrated by M. de Mazade. At last, in the +summer of 1858, Napoleon sent for him to Plombieres, drove him out in a +dog-cart, and during the drive told him that he was now ready to "do +something" for Italy. Then and there the outline of the war of 1859 was +resolved upon. The abrupt conclusion of the war was, at least momentarily, +a profound disappointment to Cavour: the Peace of Villafranca, which left +half its fruits ungathered, seemed to the Italian party almost an act of +treachery on the part of the French emperor. Napoleon was, in fact, alarmed +at his work: he had been almost too successful, and he determined to throw +up the game. Cavour, in irritation, disgust and despair, immediately +withdrew from the ministry, his place being taken by Urbano Rattazzi. The +new minister presided at that great breaking-up throughout the rest of +Italy for which the expulsion of the Austrians from Lombardy had given the +signal, and which took place under the direct patronage of Piedmont. The +attitude of the latter state was a very difficult one, and Rattazzi proved +but half master of the situation: at the end of six months Cavour was +recalled to power. From this point in his work one step succeeds another +with a sort of dramatic effectiveness. He was confronted with the constant +necessity of presenting an unflinching front to Austria; the necessity, +equally imperious, of checking reactionary excesses in Parma and Modena, +Bologna and Tuscany; the need of keeping what had been gained, and at the +same time reaching forth for more; of keeping on good terms with France, +who had drawn back almost as far as she first advanced; of remaining free, +especially, from the reproach of meddling with the papacy--an enterprise +for which the occasion was not ripe; of stimulating England, who had +advanced in proportion as France withdrew; and of being supremely careful, +generally, to commit no faults. The cession of Savoy and Nice brought down +upon Cavour a storm of denunciation, but he had counted the cost, and the +resolution with which he paid the price of Napoleon's assistance was +extremely characteristic of him. It was apparently equally characteristic +of Garibaldi, born at Nice and her most illustrious son, that he felt it a +mortal affront that by this diplomatic bargain he should have been +"deprived of a country." M. de Mazade characterizes very happily Cavour's +attitude during Garibaldi's invasion of the Two Sicilies--his silent +complicity, his skill in giving his terrible associate rope, as it were, +and yet keeping him in hand. Cavour did not live to see the last two acts +of his great drama--the occupation of Venetia and of Rome--but they were +only, as it were, the epilogue: they were implied in what had gone before. +He died of overwork--broke down in the midst of his labors. Great innovator +as he had been, he was remarkable for the moderation of his attitude toward +the Church; and the last words he uttered to the good friar who attended +his deathbed were a repetition of his famous formula--"Libera chiesa in +libero stato." + + + Egypt as it Is. By J. C. McCoan. New York: Henry Holt & + Co. + +During the three quarters of a century which have elapsed since the French +invasion a voluminous Egyptian library has been built up, but it is almost +wholly scientific, sentimental or "entertaining." Of the antiquities and +the natural history of the country, the temples, mummies and crocodiles, +and the humors of Fellah-life, we have been told a great deal. An account +of the condition and prospects of the country from an economic point of +view has remained a desideratum. This seems the less remarkable when we +recall the fluctuations through which the industry, commerce and politics +of Egypt have passed since Mehemet Ali seized and commenced repolishing +the sceptre of the Pharaohs and the Ptolemies. He and his four successors +stood forth as the absolute lords of the land; but it was subject not only +to the accidents of their character and policy, but to the capricious and +almost always mischievous interference of their suzerain the Porte, and the +often beneficial, but never quite disinterested, control of the great +Christian powers. + +The progress of the past fourteen years has been more palpable than that of +the preceding half century. The khedive Ismaal succeeded the +reactionary Abbas, who stopped, and, as far as in him lay, nullified, the +work of Mehemet in 1865. Since that year 971 out of 1126 miles of railway +have been built; three or four hundred miles of telegraph have grown to +fifty-five hundred; 112 miles of canal have been dug, and a great part of +the old system deepened or restored; the great Suez Canal, additional to +that, has been undertaken and completed at a net cost to Egypt of +sixty-seven millions of dollars; the barrage, or damming for irrigation +purposes, of the Lower Nile has been pushed at a cost of five millions; ten +millions have been spent on the harbor of Alexandria, one upon lighthouses, +which make the coast as safe as that of any European power, and half a +million on the bridge at Cairo; schools have been multiplied, remodelled +and endowed in like proportion; the judiciary has been recast with the best +results, so far as time has permitted them to be shown; and the exports, +excluding the transit-trade, which the opening of the Isthmus Canal has +diverted from Alexandria, raised from twenty-four millions in 1866 to +sixty-three millions in 1875. The cotton production, created about the +beginning of the present reign by the civil war in the United States, shows +a recovery and re-advance since the loss of that stimulus, shipments from +Alexandria having grown from 1,288,797 quintals in 1866 to 2,615,120 in +1875. The blow dealt the commerce of that city by the transfer of the +Indian trade to Port Said has similarly been "discounted," the mercantile +sagacity of Alexander the Great continuing to assert itself in a movement +of business and population which cannot fail to be largely aided by the +extension of the arable area of Egypt proper and the railway development of +Nubia and the Soudan. The population of the first of these three districts +has grown to five and a half millions, or 484 to the square mile--a +density exceeding that of Belgium. Its multiplication, and the more +wonderful advance in the products of its industry, go to support Mr. +McCoan's assertions of its general well-being. In this regard he maintains +that the Egyptian peasantry compare favorably with those of any Eastern +country. Their mode of life, rude enough in the eyes of Western tourists, +is, he holds, the same as under the builders of Thebes, and much the same +with what the climate and other local conditions will always make it. Their +oppression by the old system of tax-collecting and military conscription +has been greatly relieved. We cannot see, indeed, why an army nominally of +thirty, but actually of less than twenty thousand, and recruited in great +measure from Nubia, should be burdensome. The navy has almost disappeared, +a veto from Constantinople having made iron-clads a prohibited luxury, so +that impressment for the fleet is unfelt. + +Mr. McCoan, though generally fair and practical in his statements, tends to +the rose-colored side of things Egyptian. Thus it fares with slavery. +Slaves, white and black, are very numerous in Egypt, "nearly all the indoor +work of every family above the poorest" being done by slaves. In the town +of Mansourah in 1873 an English consular agent, "in rank not even a +vice-consul," used his power under a then existing privilege to liberate +"seventeen hundred in a single month." Mansourah has but sixteen thousand +of population, so that the slave-element must be great. But Mr. McCoan says +the institution is strictly patriarchal, and no way comparable to the +extinct Western form. This does not seem to be borne out by his other +statement, that "few black slaves (the most numerous by far) reach middle +age, ten or a dozen years generally sufficing to sweep away a generation, +at the end of which the whole have to be replaced." And how are they +replaced? By Arab raids among the negro tribes, costing the death, in +battle or on the march, of four or five for one that reaches the Nile or +the Red Sea. The Circassian supply has been brought pretty well to an end +by the Russian conquest of the Caucasus, and is kept up only in a feeble +way by the continued habit of selling their daughters yet prevalent among +the emigrants from that region who have sought refuge among their +coreligionists in the interior of Turkey. + +The fortunes of Egypt must be affected by the Turko-Russian war; although, +as England is quite able, and seemingly quite determined, to cork up the +Dardanelles, it is not likely that the ships of the czar can threaten Port +Said for generations to come. The interest of the money-changers, too, is +to keep her quiet and the hands of her Fellaheen occupied only with the +implements of peace--the shovel and the hoe. She is far from warlike, is +indisposed in the extreme to quarrelling with Europe or any part of it, and +should the Turkish empire go to wreck, will be content to drift out of the +wreck as noiselessly as possible. She will, if allowed a chance, be able +ere long to set a shining and valuable example of thrift and liberality to +the rest of the Moslem world. She has already shown that its crust of +bigotry and case-hardened conservatism may be broken, and nobody of any +faith be one whit the worse. Her capacity for improvement will not be +questioned by any reader of this volume, which is the result of a thorough +study of her condition and recent progress. + + +HOLIDAY BOOKS. + +The season for holiday publications has not yet fairly opened, but we +notice a few of those which have already reached us, hoping to present a +tolerably complete list in our next number. + +_Californian Pictures in Prose and Verse_, by Benjamin Parke Avery (New +York: Hurd & Houghton), is not a record of travel, but a description of +scenes visited by the author, whose observations extend over a large +portion of California, from Mount Shasta to the Santa Cruz Mountains. It is +written in a clear and fluent style, but "word-painting" is a form of +writing requiring exceptional nicety of execution, and Mr. Avery has not +the power or delicacy of language which would be needed to sustain the +interest of a volume of this size with little or no aid from incident. +There is no _sauce piquante_ to set forth attractively the real merits +which the volume possesses. A sincere feeling for Nature appears to have +been turned by Mr. Avery into the special channel of enthusiasm for the +Sierra scenery, which he has studied with loving and minute care. He +explored no new region, but he went beyond the beaten track, and has sought +to avoid a repetition of the most worn Californian themes. Yet it is to +Californians and to those who have visited the State that the book must +chiefly appeal; and to these it may safely be recommended as a memorial +volume, agreeably written, handsomely got up, and embellished with +illustrations by various artists and engravers, some of Mr. Thomas Moran's +familiar light-bathed distances being perhaps the most noticeable. + +Three volumes, bearing the imprint of G. P. Putnam's Sons, are suitable for +children of almost any age. Of these, _Six Sinners; or, School-Days in +Bantam Valley_, by Campbell Wheaton, is a pleasantly-written story, the +warm-hearted, clever, impulsive little heroine being very naturally and +sympathetically drawn. There is a good deal of reality in the delineation +of the other characters, and the school in which the sensitive Dora was so +miserable is no doubt a faithful picture of some boarding-school in New +England of twenty years ago. The miseries, though pathetic, are not of long +duration: we take leave in the last chapter of a very happy little girl, +with friends reconciled and circumstances adjusted in the most delightful +way. The story is nicely constructed, and the interest well sustained, but +the title seems to have no special fitness beyond that of alliteration. + +_Patsy_ (by Leora B. Robinson) goes through all the stages of girlhood, +from pinafores and paper dolls to long dresses and young ladyhood, with +bewildering celerity. We find her on one page learning the Primer along +with the elements of flirtation, and on the next she is finishing her +education with all the philosophies and -ologies. There is no lack of funny +incidents in the book, but they are too crowded, and the characters are too +numerous. This, however, may be no obstacle to children, who have often a +faculty for unravelling genealogical problems, and like to have their fun +spread thick. They will not even have to skip the moral, which, such as it +is, is aimed entirely at parents and guardians. + +_The Wings of Courage_, adapted from the French by Marie E. Field, with +illustrations by Lucy G. Morse, contains three rather long stories. But why +"adapted"? and why is not George Sand acknowledged as the author? There +ought to be an authentic translation of Madame Sand's fairy-tales, which +are full of fancy, earnestness and charm. These stories appeal to a more +imaginative and cultured audience of boys and girls than that to which the +realistic tales of American writers are addressed. The beauty and +simplicity of the antique will, we fear, appear dull when compared with the +adventures of hoydens and newsboys, and Young America is not partial to the +young naturalist unless he justifies the singularity of his pursuit by an +abundance of slaughter. + + + + +_Books Received._ + + +Tales from Foreign Tongues, 3 volumes--"Memories," from the German of Max +Mueller; "Graziella," from the French of Lamartine; "Marie," from the +Russian of Pushkin. Chicago: Jansen, McClurg & Co. + +Money and its Laws: Embracing a History of Monetary Theories and a History +of the Currencies of the United States. By Henry V. Poor. New York: H. V. +and H. W. Poor. + +China-Painting: A Practical Manual for the Use of Amateurs in the +Decoration of Hard Porcelain. By M. Louise McLaughlin. Cincinnati: Robert +Clarke & Co. + +History of the Ottoman Turks: From the Beginning of their Empire to the +Present Time. By Sir Edward S. Creasy, M.A. New York: Henry Holt & Co. + +Through Rome On: A Memoir of Christian and Extra-Christian Experience. By +Nathaniel Ramsay Waters. New York: Charles P. Somerby. + +The Enchanted Moccasins, and Other Legends of the American Indians. By +Cornelius Matthews. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. + +The Biography of Alfred de Musset. From the French of Paul de Musset, by +Harriet W. Preston. Boston: Roberts Brothers. + +Last Series of Christian Aspects of Faith and Duty: Discourses by John +James Tayler. Boston: Roberts Brothers. + +Surly Tim, and Other Stories. By Frances Hodgson Burnett. New York: +Scribner, Armstrong & Co. + +History of French Literature. By Henri Van Laun. Vol. III. New York: G. P. +Putnam's Sons. + +Music in the House. By John Hullah, LL.D. (Art-at-Home Series.) +Philadelphia: Porter & Coates. + +Will Denbigh, Nobleman. (No-Name Series.) Boston: Roberts Brothers. + +Pauline. By L. B. Walford. New York: Henry Holt & Co. + +Diana. By Susan Warner. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular +Literature and Science, Volume 20. December, 1877., by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE OF *** + +***** This file should be named 37946.txt or 37946.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/4/37946/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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