diff options
Diffstat (limited to '41022.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 41022.txt | 7142 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 7142 deletions
diff --git a/41022.txt b/41022.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a84badd..0000000 --- a/41022.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7142 +0,0 @@ - CLARA VAUGHAN, VOLUME III (OF III) - - - - -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 http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Title: Clara Vaughan, Volume III (of III) - -Author: R. D. Blackmore - -Release Date: October 10, 2012 [EBook #41022] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLARA VAUGHAN, VOLUME III (OF -III) *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover] - - - - - CLARA VAUGHAN - - _A NOVEL_ - - - IN THREE VOLUMES - VOL III. - - R. D. Blackmore - - - - London and Cambridge: - MACMILLAN AND CO. - 1864. - - _The Right of Translation and Reproduction is reserved._ - - - - - LONDON: - R. CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, - BREAD STREET HILL. - - - - - CLARA VAUGHAN - - BOOK IV. (_continued_). - - - - CHAPTER X. - - STORY OF EDGAR VAUGHAN. - - -Child Clara, for your own dear sake, as well as mine and my sweet -love's, I will not dwell on that tempestuous time. If you cannot -comprehend it without words, no words will enable you. If you can, and -I fear you do, no more words are wanted; and, as an old man weary of the -world, I know not whether to envy or to pity you. - -Hither and thither I was flung, to the zenith star of ecstasy or the -nadir gulf of agony, according as my idol pet chose to smile or frown. -Though she was no silly child, but a girl of mind and feeling, she had a -store, I must confess, of clouds as well as dazzling sunlight in the -empyrean of her eyes. Her nature, like my love, was full of Southern -passion. It is like the air they breathe, the beauty they behold. One -minute of such love compresses in a thunder flood all the slow emotions -stealing through the drought-scrimped channel, where we dredge for gold -deposits, through ten years of Saxon courtship. Instead of Lily-bloom, -she should have been called the Passion-flower. - -My life, my soul--how weak our English words are--she loved me from the -first, I can take my oath she did, although her glory was too great for -her to own it yet, though now and then her marvellous eyes proved -traitors. Sometimes when she was racking me most, feigning even, with -those eyes cast down, her pellucid fingers point to point, and her -little foot tapping the orchid bloom, feigning, I say, in cold blood, to -reckon her noble lovers--long names all and horribly hateful to -me--suddenly, while I trembled, and scowled like a true-born Briton, -suddenly up would leap the silky drooping lashes, and a spring of soft -electric light would flutter through them to the very core of my heart. - -As for me, I abandoned myself. I made no pretence of waiting a moment. -I flung my heart wide open to her, and if she would not come in, desert -it should be for ever. - -She did come. That life-blood of my soul came in, and would and could -live nowhere else for ever. - -It was done like this. One August evening, when the sun was sinking, -and the air was full of warmth and wooing sounds, the cicale waking from -his early nap, the muffro leaping for the first dew-drop, the love-birds -whispering in the tamarind leaves, Fiordalisa sat with me, under a giant -cork-tree on the western slope. The tower was still in Vendetta siege, -and the grave and reverend Signor knew better than to come out, when the -Sbirri were gone to the town. Lily-bloom was sitting by me in a mass of -flowers; her light mandile was laid by, that her glorious hair might -catch the first waft of the evening breeze. All down her snow-white -shoulders fell the labyrinth of tresses, twined by me with red Tacsonia, -and two pale carnations. Her form was pillowed in rich fern, that -feathered round her waist; of all the fronds and plumes and stems, not -one so taper, light, and rich as that. The bloom upon her cheeks was -deepened by my playing with her hair, and her soft large eyes were -beaming with delicious wonder. - -We knew, as well as He who made us, that we loved one another. None who -did not love for ever could interchange such looks. Suddenly, and -without a word, in an ecstasy of admiration, I passed my left arm round -her little waist, drew her close to me--she was very near before--and -looking full into her wondrous eyes, found no protest but a thrill of -light; then tried her lips and met her whole heart there. Darling, how -she kissed me! No English girl can do it. And then the terror of her -maiden thoughts. The recollection of her high-born pride, and higher -because God-born innocence. How she wept, and blushed, and trembled; -trembled, blushed, and wept again; and then vouchsafed one more -entrancing kiss, to atone for the unwitting treason. Even thus I would -not be content. I wanted words as well. - -"Do you love me, my own Lily, with every atom of your heart?" - -"I have not left one drop of blood for all the world besides." - -And it was true. And so it was with me. I told her father that same -night. And now in the heaven of gladness and wild pleasure, beyond all -dreams of earth, opened the hell of my wickedness and crime; which but -for mercy and long repentance would sever me from my Lily in the world -to come. To some the crime may seem a light one, to me it is a most -atrocious sin, enhanced tenfold by its awful consequences. - -By my crime, I do not mean my sinful adoration, as cold men may call it, -of a fellow mortal. Nature has no time to waste, and unless she meant -my Lily to be worshipped, she would not have lavished all her skill in -making her so divine. No, I mean my black deceit, in passing for my -brother. Oh, Clara, don't go from me. - -Like many another ruinous sin, it was committed without thought, or -rather without deliberation. No scheme was laid, not even the least -intention cherished; but the moment brought it, and the temptation was -too great. Who could have that loving pet gazing at him so, and not -sell his soul almost to win her to his arms? - -Laurence Daldy was a lazy ass. I do not want to shift my blame to him, -but merely state a fact. If he had not been a lazy ass, your father -would be living now--ay, and my Fiordalisa. When he chose, he could -write very good Italian, and a clear, round hand, and oh, rare -accomplishment for an officer, he could even spell. But his letter to -Signor Dezio, scrawled betwixt two games of pool, was a perfect magpie's -nest of careless zigzag, wattles, and sand slap-dash. In those days a -hasty writer used to flick his work with sand, which stanched but did -not dry the ink. The result was often a grimy dabble, like a child's -face blotched with blackberries. - -Lily and I had quite arranged how we should present ourselves. Like two -children we rehearsed it under the twilight trees. "And then, you -know," my sweet love whispered, "I shall give you a regular kiss beneath -the dear father's beard, and you will see what an effect it will have. -Thence he will learn, oh sweetest mine, that there is no help for it; -because we Corsican girls are so chary of our lips." - -"Are you indeed, my beautiful Lily? I must teach you liberality, to me, -and to me alone." - -"Sweetest mine," she always called me from the moment she confessed her -love; and so, no doubt, she is calling me now in heaven. - -The curtain hung in heavy folds across the narrow doorway of the long -dark room. The hospitable board was gay with wine and dainty fruit, -melons, figs, and peaches, plums of golden and purple hue, pomegranates, -pomi d'oro, green almonds, apricots, and muscatels from the ladders of -Cape Corso. Through them and upon them played the mellow light from a -single lamp, with dancing lustres round it. All the rest of the room -was dark. At the head of the table sat Signor Dezio Della Croce, -waiting for his guest and daughter. Posted high at the end window on a -ledge of rough-hewn board, stood the ancient warder, who had lived for -fifty years among them, and whose great fusil commanded the only -approach to the castle. - -As we entered timidly, the maiden's right hand on my neck, my left arm -round her ductile waist, our other hands clasped firmly, I glanced -toward that noxious sentinel. - -"Never mind him, sweetest mine. Don't believe that he is there. -Grandpapa, I call him, and he knows all my secrets." - -Signor Dezio looked amazed, as we glided towards him. His life had been -one series of crushing blows from heaven. Three brave sons had been -barbarously murdered in Vendetta, and his graceful loving wife had -broken her heart and died. The sole hope of his house, his petling -Fiordalisa, though she called herself a woman and was full sixteen, he -looked upon her still in his trouble-torn chronology, as only ripe -enough to be dandled on his lap. Still he called her his "Ninnina," and -sang nannas to her, as he had been obliged to do after her mother's -death. - -As he sat there, too astonished to smile, or frown, or say a word, Lily -dropped upon her knees before him, as a Grecian maiden would. We -English are not supple-jointed; but for Lily's sake, I could not stand -beside her. Then she placed her soft right hand in the centre of my -hard palm, flung the other arm round my neck, and with her eyes upon her -father's, gave me a long affectionate kiss. This done, she drew her -father's head down, and kissed his snow-white beard. Now, she told me, -after this, any father who is obdurate, must according to institution -blame himself and no one else, if harm befall the maiden. - -All this time, I spoke not, and thought of nothing except to screen my -Lily. Signor Dezio kept a stately silence, but the tears were in his -eyes, and the long white beard was quivering. Lily bent her head, and -waited for his words. - -"Mother of God! My little child, what are you thinking of?" - -"Only thinking of being married, father." - -"And set another Vendetta afoot, and be killed yourself! -Signor"--turning haughtily to me--"this lady is betrothed, from her -early infancy, to her cousin Lepardo Della Croce." - -"Oh, I hate him," cried Fiordalisa, clasping her hands piteously. "Ah, -Madonna, I hate him so; and thank our Lady, no one has seen him for six -years. He is dead no doubt in some Cannibal Island. Saints of mercy, -keep him. I saw it in the Spalla, in the Shepherd's Spalla, and I saw -my own love there, the eve before he came." - -"Grace of Holy Mary! Who read the Spalla for you?" - -"The hoary goatherd from Ghidazzo." And up sprang Fiordalisa, flew to -an inner room, and fetched from the dark niche in the wall the box of -holy relics. With these she knelt before her father, and placed her -right hand on the box. - -"My child, it is not needful. I believe you without an oath. Never yet -have you passed the boundary of truth." - -The old chief bowed his head in thought. He had lost his last surviving -son by neglecting the Spalla's decree. The Spalla is the shoulder blade -of a goat, polished, and used for divination; upon it had been read -Sampiero's death, and the destiny of Napoleon. The old man who had -forecast the latter was still alive, and of immense renown, and -traversed the island now like an ancient prophet. He was the hoary -goatherd of Ghidazzo. - -Lily saw that she was conquering; she leaped upon her father's knee and -hugged him; and her triumph was complete. While she wept upon his -breast, and told him all her little tale, and whispered in his ear, and -while he kissed, and comforted her, and thought of her dear mother, I -rushed out and leaped the Vinea, and wept beneath the olive-trees. - -At last the old man rose and called me, he durst not venture from the -door; but he did what was far better, he sent my own love after me. At -length when we returned, and we found cause not to hurry,-- - -"Signor Vogheno," he began, "I have observed you well. I am a man of -very keen observation"--Lily's eyes gave me a twinkle full of fun--"or I -should not be alive this moment. I have observed you, sir, and I -approve your character. I cannot say as much, sir, of all the -Englishmen I have been privileged to meet. There is about them very much -of the nature of a dog. Forgive me, sir; pray interrupt me not. I only -judge by what I have seen. God forbid that I should say so to you, -while you were my guest. Now you are one of my family, and entitled to -the result of my observations. Of the little island itself I know -nothing at all, though I am informed that its institutions are of a -barbarous character." - -"Vendetta for instance," was on my lips, but Lily's glance just saved -it. And I thought of his three brave sons. - -"But, Signor beloved, you are different from them; indeed you have the -nobility of the Corsican nature. And what is most of all, my little -child has fixed her heart upon you. But she is very young, sir, quite a -child you see." I saw nothing of the sort, but a blooming maiden -figure, growing lovelier every day. Poor Lily dropped her long -eyelashes, and smiled through a glowing blush. So blushed Lavinia under -the eyes of Turnus. - -"This darling child is now the heiress to these lands of mine. And if -her cousin Lepardo, whose death she has seen on the Spalla, be indeed -removed from us, she is the very last of all the Della Croce. I cannot -easily read the billet of your brother. He does not write good Corsican -of our side of the mountains, but some outlandish Tuscan. There is -something first which I cannot well decipher, and then I see your name -Signor Valentine Vogheno, and that you are the lord of very large -estates, in some district called Gloisterio?" He looked at me -inquiringly. - -Instead of explaining that I was only the brother of the great Signor -Valentino, I bowed, alas I bowed with a hot flush on my cheeks. What -could it matter, and why should I interrupt him, if he chose to deceive -himself? Lily charmed away all hesitation, by clapping her little -hands, and crying, "Sweetest mine, I am so glad." - -"Then, upon two conditions I will give you my daughter. The first, that -you leave this island, and do not see our Lily, write to, or even hear -from her, for a period of six months. If she has not outgrown her love, -she will then be almost old enough to wed. I mean, of course, if -Lepardo does not appear. The other condition is that you shall promise -on the holy relics, and you as well, my flower, never to part with these -old estates, but keep them for Lily while she lives, and transmit them -to her second child." - -A load of terror was off my heart--I thought he was going to bind me to -the accursed Vendetta. Even for my Lily, I could hardly have taken that -pledge. So I assented readily to the last stipulation, though it was -based upon a virtual lie of mine. But with Lily's eyes upon me, -brimming as they were with tears at the first condition, and her round -arms trembling to enfold me, could I stick at anything short of -downright murder? The first proviso I fought against in vain. Even Lily -coaxed and cried, without any good effect. - -When at last we yielded to the stern decree, the venerable father, as we -knelt before him, joined our hands together, and poured a blessing on -us, which I did not lack. He had given me my blessing. - -After this we sat down to supper, and the trusty musketeer, who had -watched the whole scene grimly, and without hearing all, knew what the -result was, he, I say, upon his perch began to improvise, or haply to -adapt, and sing to a childish air, some little verses upon the glad -occasion. Having exhausted his stock, down he leaped without -permission, and drank our health in a bumper of Luri wine. - -Lily was now in due course of promotion. No longer was she the -handmaid, whose eyes created and rejoiced in countless mistakes of mine. -Now she was sitting by my side, as she had good right to be, and was -lost in pretty raptures at my gallant attentions. They were very nice, -she owned, but thoroughly un-Corsican. How I wished her father and the -old fusileer away! - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - -"Six long months to be away from Lily! And perhaps forget her, and find -some lovelier maiden." - -"By Lily's side, all maids are burdocks. And yet what if I do?" - -She showed a small stiletto toy with a cross upon the handle, and ground -her pearly teeth together. - -"Will it be for me, or her?" - -"Both; and Lily afterwards." - -"Oh you wholesale little murderer! Three great kisses directly, one for -every murder." - -"Only if you promise, on the relics, never to look twice at a pretty -maiden." - -And so we spent the precious time,--ten days allowed me to prepare my -yacht--in talking utter nonsense, and conning fifty foolish schemes, to -make us seem together. I was for departing at once, that the period -might begin to run; but Lily was for keeping me to the last possible -moment, and of course she had her way. It was fixed that I should sail -on the 10th day of September. My little boat, now called the "Lily -flower," was brought from Calvi, and moored in a secluded cove, where my -love could see it from her bedroom window. It was no longer Corsican law -that I should live in the castle. The privileges of a guest were gone; -and the rigorous code of suitorship began. But to me and my own darling -it made very little difference. I never left Vendetta tower, as I -lightly named it, until my pet was ordered off to bed; and every morn I -climbed the heights, after a long swim in the sapphire ripple, and met -my own sweet Lily sparkling from the dew of her early toilet. How she -loved me, how I loved her; which more than other let angels say; for we -could not decide. That ancient Corsican her father, albeit little -versed in books, was as upright and downright a gentleman as ever knew -when his presence was not required. Therefore he took my word of honour -for his Lily's safety; and left her to her own sweet will; and her sweet -will was to spend with me all her waking hours. For her as yet there -was no fear of the blood-avenger. According to their etiquette they -cannot shoot the daughter, until they have shot the father. As to the -sons the restriction does not hold. The feud we were concerned in had -lasted now 120 years, and cost the lives of 130 people. It lay between -the ancient races of Della Croce, and De Gentili, and owed its origin to -the discovery of a dead mule on the road to church. The question was -which family should be exterminated first. For many years the house of -Della Croce had been in the ascendant, having produced a long succession -of good shots and clever bushmen. At one time all the hopes of the De -Gentili hung upon one infant life, which was not thought worth the -taking. Fatal error--that one life had proved a mighty trump. One -after one the Della Croce fell before that original artist, who invented -a patent method of trunking himself in olive bark and firing from a -knot-hole. Many a story Lily told me of his devilish wiles; and in -those stories I rejoiced, because she clung around my neck, and trembled -so that I must hold her. Happily now this olive-branch was dead, having -received his death-wound while he administered one to Lily's youngest -brother. Ever since that, the feud had languished, and strict etiquette -required that the Della Croce should perpetrate the next murder. But -her father, said my Lily, with her sweet head on my breast and her soft -eyes full of fire, her father did not seem to care even to shoot the -cousin of the man who had shot her brothers. - -Darling Lily, my blood runs cold, even with your beauty in my arms, to -hear you talk of murder so. Own pet, I shall change you. You heaven -meant for love, and softness, and delight: human devilry has tainted -even you. It was not an easy task to change her. Of all human passions -revenge is far the strongest. Clara, how your eyes flash. You ought to -have been a Corsican. It was not an easy task; but love loves -difficulties. In my ten short days of delicious wretchedness, almost I -taught Fiordalisa to despise revenge. And what do you think availed me -most? Not the Bible. No, her mind and soul were swathed by Popery in -the rags of too many saints. What helped me most, and the only thing -that helped me at all, except caresses, was the broad and free expanse -of the ever changing sea. Her nature was all poetry, her throbbing -breast an Idyl. Upon my little quarter-deck I had a cushioned niche for -her, and there we sat and steered ourselves while the sailors slept -below. Alone upon the crystal world, pledged for life or death -together, drinking deepest draughts of passion and thirsting still for -more, what cared we for petty hatreds, we whose all in all was love? -How she listened as I spoke, how her large eyes grew enlarged. - -At last those eyes, pure wells of love, were troubled with hot tears. -The fatal day was come. Tokens we had interchanged, myriad vows, and -countless pledges, which even love could scarce remember. With all the -passion of her race, and all the fervour of the clime, she bared her -beautiful round arm, the part that lay most near the heart and touched -it with the keen stiletto, then she threw her breast on mine, and I laid -the crimsoned ivory on my lips. How the devil--excuse me, Clara--how -the devil I got away, only phlegmatic Englishmen can tell. No Frenchman, -or Italian, would have left that heavenly darling so. We put it off to -the last moment, till it was quite dangerous to pass the rocky jaws. As -my bad luck would have it, there was a purpling sunset breeze. My own -love on the furthest point, her white feet in the water, growing smaller -and smaller yet, and standing upon tiptoe to be seen for another yard; -my own darling love of ages, she loosed her black hair down her snowy -vest, for me to know her from the rocks behind; then she waved and waved -her sweet palm hat, fragrant of my Lily,--I had kissed every single inch -of it,--until she thought I could not see her; and then, as my telescope -showed me, back she fell upon a ledge of rocks, and I could see or fancy -her delicious bosom heaving to the fury of her tears. We glided past -the cavern mouth, and the silver beach beyond it, whence we had often -watched the sunset; and then a beetling crag took from me the last view -of Lily. - -However long the schoolboy may have bled from some big coward's -bullying, or the sway of the rustling birch and the bosky thrill that -follows, however sore he may have wept while hung head-downwards through -the midnight hours, with a tallow candle between his teeth, or in the -pang of nouns heteroclite and brachycatalectic dinners; yet despite -these minor ills, his fond heart turns through after life to the scene -of foot-ball and I-spy, to the days when he could jump or eat any mortal -thing. And so it is with bygone love. Even the times of separation or -of bitter quarrel, the aching heart whereon the keepsake lies, the -spasms of jealousy, the tenterhooks of doubt; remembrance looks upon -them all as treasures of a golden age. - -Over the darkening sea, we bore away for Sardinia. Hours and hours, I -gazed upon the cushions, where my own pet darling used to lean and love -me. To me they were fairer than all the stars, or the phosphorescent -sea. From time to time our Corsican pilot kept himself awake, by -chanting to strangely mournful airs some of the voceros or dirges, the -burden of many ages in that lamenting land. Fit home for Rachel, Niobe, -or Cassandra, where half a million gallant beings, twice the number of -the present population, have fallen victims to the blood-revenge. So -Corsican historians tell; a thousand violent deaths each year, for the -last five centuries. Sometimes the avenger waits for half a lifetime, -lurking till his moment comes. Before his victim has ceased to quiver, -or the shot to ring down the rocky pass, he is off for the bush or the -mountains, and leads thenceforth a bandit's life. - -They tell me, Clara, that things are better now, and this black stain on -a chivalrous race is being purged by Christian civilization. Be it as -it may, I love the island of my Lily still; and hope, please God, to see -it once more, before I go to her. - -Banished though I was, for the present, from the only place I cared for, -it seemed still greater severance to go further than I could help. -Therefore instead of returning to England, I spent the winter in -cruising along the western coast of Italy, and the south of Spain; and -coasted back to Genoa. To Seville, and other places famed for beautiful -women, I made especial trips, to search for any fit to compare with my -own maiden. Of course I knew none could be found; but it gave me some -employment, and bitter pleasure, to observe how inferior were all. To -my eyes, bright with one sweet image, no other form had grace enough to -be fit pillow for my charmer's foot. How I longed and yearned for some -fresh token of her: all her little gifts I carried ever in my bosom, but -never let another's eyes rest one moment on them. Not even would I tell -my friends one word about my love; it seemed as if it would grow common -by being talked about. To Peter Green I wrote, resigning my commission, -although I did not tell him that I had found the olives. No, friend -Peter, those olives are much too near my Lily; and I won't have you or -any other stranger there. I know she would not look at you; still I -would rather have you a thousand miles away. Free trade, if you like, -when I have made my fortune; which by the bye is somewhat the maxim of -that school. My fortune, not in olives, oil, or even guineas--all that -rubbish you are welcome to--but my fortune where my heart and soul are -all invested, and now, no more my fortune, but my certain fate in Lily. - -At length and at last my calendar--like a homesick pair at school, we -had made one for each other, thanking God that it was not a -leap-year--my calendar so often counted, so punctually erased, began to -yield and totter to the stubborn sap of time. My patience long ago had -yielded, my blood was in a fever. Another thing began to yield, alas it -was my money. Green, Vowler, and Green had behaved most liberally; but -of course the expenses of my vessel had been heavy on me; and now my -salary had ceased. Peter Green wrote to me in the kindest and most -handsome manner, pressing me, if tired (as he concluded) of those -murderous Corsicans, to accept another engagement in Sardinia. Even -without imparting my last discovery, I had done good service to the -firm. I smiled at the idea of my being weary of Corsicans: even now the -mere word sends a warm tide to my heart. - -It was not for the beauty of the scene, or the works of art, that I -remained in Genoa; but because it was the likeliest place to see the -Negro's head. As we lay at the end of the mole, my glass commanded all -that entered; and every lugger or xebec that bore the sacred emblem--off -my little dingy pushed from our raking stern, and with one man, now my -friend because a thorough Corsican, I boarded her, at all hazards of -imprisonment; and craved for tidings of the sacred land. Although, of -course, I would not show the nest of all my thoughts, yet by beating -about the bush, I got some scraps of news. The great Signor was -flourishing, and had harvested an enormous crop of olives: his lovely -daughter, now becoming the glory of the island, had been ill of -something like marsh-fever, but was now as blooming as the roses. They -did say, but the captain could not at all believe it, that she had been -betrothed to some foreign olive-merchant. What disgrace! The highest -blood and the sweetest maid in Corsica, to be betrayed to an oilman! -Plenty of other news I gathered--the good people are great gossips--but -this was all I cared for. Meanwhile your father, Clara dear, replied -most warmly to my letter, sending me a sum on loan, which quite relieved -me from cheese-paring. And now the wind was in the north, and it was -almost time to start for the arms of Lily. If I waited any longer, I -should be too mad to bear the voyage. At the break of day we left the -magnificent harbour, and the cold wind from the maritime Alps chilled -all but the fire of love. Up and down the little deck, up and down all -day and night; sleep I never would again, until I touched my Lily. On -the evening of the 8th of March, we were near Cape Corso; next day we -coasted down the west to the lively breeze of spring, and so upon the -9th we moored to the tongue of Calvi. At midnight we were under way, and -when the sun could reach the sea over the snowy peaks, we glided past -the mountain crescent that looks on the Balagna. In the early morning -still, when the dew was floating, we rounded the gray headland of Signor -Dezio's cove, and I climbed along the bowsprit to glance beyond the -corner. - -What is that white dress I see fluttering at the water's edge? Whose is -that red-striped mandile tossed on high and caught again? And there the -flag-staff I erected, with my colours flying! Only one such shape on -earth--only two such arms--out with the boat or I must swim, or run the -yacht ashore. The boat has been towing alongside for the last six -hours: Lily can't wait for the boat any more than I can. From rock to -rock she is leaping; which is the nearest one? Into the water she runs, -then away in blushing terror--she forgot all about the other men. But I -know where to find her, she has dropped her little shoe, she must be in -my grotto. - -There I press her to my heart of hearts, trembling, weeping, laughing, -all unable to get close enough to me. - -"Sweetest mine, ten thousand times, I have been so wretched." Her voice -is like a silver bell. - -"My own, I am so glad to hear it. But how well you look!" - -If she were lovely when I left her, what shall I call her now? There is -not one atom of her but is pure perfection. I hold her from me for one -moment, to take in all her beauties. She has a most delicious fragrance -that steals upon my senses. Toilet bottles she never heard of; what she -has is nature's gift, and unperceived except by love. I have often told -her of it, but she won't believe it. It is not your breath, you -darling; your breath is only violets; it comes from every fibre of you, -even from your hair; it is as when the wind has kissed a lily of the -valley. - -The ancient Signor being a man of very keen observation, did not delay -our wedding any longer than could be helped. That evening we hauled -down the family fusileer, gave him a goblet of wine, and sent him about -his business: for one night we would take our chance even of Vendetta. -At supper-time the Signor was in wonderful spirits, and drank our health -with many praises of our constancy and obedience. One little fact he -mentioned worth a thousand propinations; his daughter's fever had been -cured by some chance news of me. He even went away to fetch a bottle of -choicest Rogliano, when he saw how I was fidgetting to get my arm round -Lily. Then after making his re-entrance, with due clumsiness at the -door, he quite disgraced himself, while drawing the cork, by even -winking at me, as he said abruptly, - -"Fiordalisa, when would you like to be married?" - -My Lily blushed, I must confess, but did not fence with the question. - -"As soon as ever you please, papa. That is, if my love wishes it." But -she would not look at me to ask. In the porch she whispered to me, that -it was only from her terror of the bad Lepardo coming. Did the loving -creature fancy that I would believe it? - -Once more we sailed together over the amethyst sea; she was as fond of -the water as a true-born Briton. In her thoughts and glances was -infinite variety. None could ever guess the next thing she would say. -Thoroughly I knew her heart, because I lived therein, and sweeter -lodgings never man was blessed with. But of her mind she veiled as yet -the maiden delicacies, strictly as she would the glowing riches of her -figure. What amazed me more than all, was that while most Corsican -girls are of the nut-brown order, no sun ever burned the snowy skin of -Lily: she always looked so clear and clean, as if it were impossible for -anything to stain her. Clara, you are always talking of your lovely -Isola. I wonder where she got her name: it is no stranger to me. -Something in your description of her reminds me of my Lily. I long to -see the girl: and you must have some reason for so obstinately -preventing me. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - -Though Lily and I were most desirous to keep things as quiet as -possible, by this time our engagement was talked of in every house of -the Balagna. That paternal fusileer and my merry yachtsmen, although -they looked the other way whenever we approached, would not permit the -flower of Corsica, as she was now proclaimed, to blush with me unseen. -My sailors attended to her far more than to their business, and would -have leaped into the water for one smile of Lily. - -It is the fashion of the island to make a wedding jubilee; and the -Signor was anxious to outdo all that had ever been done. We, absorbed -in one another, did our best to disappoint him; but he scorned the -notion of any private marriage. I never shall forget how he knit his -silver brows when I made a last attempt to bring him to our views. -"Signor Vogheno, to me you appear to forget whose daughter it is that -loves you. Perhaps in your remote, but well regarded island maidens may -be stolen before their fathers can look round. Indeed, I have heard -that they leap over a broomstick. That is not the custom here. -Fiordalisa Della Croce is my only child--the child of my old age; and -not altogether one to be ashamed of. I can afford to be hospitable, and -I mean to be so." - -The Corsicans are a most excitable race, and, when affronted, seem to -lash their sides as they talk. By the time the good Signor had finished -his speech, every hair of his beard was curling with indignation. But -his daughter sprang into his arms and kissed away the tempest, and -promised, if it must be so, to make herself one mass of gold and coral. -So the Parolanti, or mediators, were invoked; an armistice for a week -was signed, and honour pledged on either side. Free and haughty was the -step of the Signor Dezio as he set forth for the town to order -everything he could see; and very wroth again he was, because I would -not postpone the day for him to get a shipload of trumpery from -Marseilles. This time I was resolved to have my way. Besides the -fervour of my passion and my dread of accidents, the one thing of all -others I detest is to be stared at anywhere. And it is far worse to be -stared at by a foreign race. The Corsicans are gentlemen by nature, but -they could not be expected to regard without some curiosity the lucky -stranger who had won their Lily. - -I will not weary you, as I myself was wearied, with all the ceremonies -of the wedding-day. All I wanted was my bride, and she wanted none but -me: yet we could not help being touched by the hearty good-will of the -commune. The fame of Lily's beauty had spread even to Sardinia, and -many a handsome woman came to measure her own thereby. Clever as they -are at such things, not one of them could find a blemish or defect in -Lily, and our fair Balagnese told them to go home and break their -mirrors. - -It was a sweet spring morning, and amid a fearful din of guns and -trumpets, mandolins and fiddles, I waited with a nervous smile under the -triumphal arch in front of my fictitious house. A sham house had been -made of boards, and boughs, and flowers, because it is most essential -that the bride should be introduced to the bridegroom's dwelling. Here -I was to receive the procession, which at last appeared. First came -fifty well-armed youths, crowned with leaves and ribbons; then -four-and-twenty maidens dressed alike, singing and scattering flowers, -and then a boy of noble birth, mounted on a pony, and carrying the -freno, symbol of many scions. None of them I looked at; only for my -Lily. On a noble snow-white palfrey, decked from head to foot with -flowers, her father walking at her side, came the bloom, the flower, the -lily of them all, arrayed in clear white muslin, self-possessed, and -smiling. One glorious wreath was round her head; it was her own black -hair by her own sweet fingers twined with sprigs of myrtle. A sash, or -fazoletto, of violet transparent crape, looped at the crown of her head, -fell over the shy lift of her bosom, parting like a sunset cloud, where -the boddice opened below the pear-like waist. To me she looked like a -white coralline rising through an amethyst sea. Behind her came the -authorities of the commune. The sham keys were already hanging at her -slender zone. It was my place to lift her down and introduce her -formally. This I did with excellent grace, feeling the weight of eyes -upon me. But when I got her inside, I spoiled the folds of the -fazoletto. I heard the old man shouting, "Who are ye gallant sons of -the mountain, who have carried off my daughter? To me, indeed, ye seem -to be brave and noble men, yet have ye taken her rather after the manner -of bandits. Know ye not that she is the fairest flower that ever was -reared in Corsica?" - -"Yes, old fellow, I know that well enough; and that's the very reason -why I have got her here." One more virgin kiss, and with Lily on my -arm, forth I sally to respond. - -"Friends we are, who claim some hospitality. We have plucked the -fairest flower on all the strands of Corsica, and we bear her to the -priest, fit offering for Madonna." - -"Bide on, my noble friends; then come and enjoy my feast." - -No more delay. The maids have got all they can do to keep in front of -us with their flowers. The armed youths stand on either side at the -entrance to the church. The tapers are already lit, the passage up the -little church is strewed with flowering myrtle. Lily, holding her veil -around her, walks hand in hand with me. - -Fiordalisa Della Croce now is Lily Vaughan; amidst a world of shouting, -shooting, and cornamusas, we are led to the banqueting-room; there they -seat us in two chairs, and a fine fat baby is placed on Lily's lap, to -remind her of her duties. She dandles it, and kisses it as if she -understood the business, and then presents it with a cap of corals and -gay ribbons. Now Lily Vaughan throws off her fazoletto, and gives me -for a keepsake the myrtles in her hair. Then all who can claim kin with -her, to the fortieth generation, hurry up and press her hand, and wish -the good old wish. "Long life and growing pleasure, sons like him, and -daughters like yourself." - -After the banquet, we were free to go, having first led off the ballo in -the Cerca dance. Thank God, my Lily is at last my own; she falls upon -my bosom weary and delighted. Clara, remember this: the little church -in which we were married is called St. Katharine's on the cliff; and I -signed the record in my proper name, Edgar Malins Vaughan: the Malins, -very likely, they did not know from Valentine, for I always wrote it -with a flourish at the end. The Signor, with all his friends, escorted -us to the limits of his domain; there we bade them heartily farewell, -and they returned to renew the feast. My little yacht was in the bay, -and we saw the boat push off to fetch us as had been arranged. We were -to sail for Girolata, where the Signor had a country-house, lonely -enough even for two such lovers. Three or four hours would take us -thither, and the sun was still in the heavens. As no one now could see -us, Lily performed a little dance for my especial delight. How beaming -she looked, how full of spirits, now all the worry was over. Then she -tripped roguishly at my side to the winding rocky steps that lead to St. -Katharine's cove. The cove was like a well scooped in the giant cliffs. -As we descended the steep and narrow stairs, my Lily trembled on my arm. -The house and all the merry-makers were out of sight and hearing. Of -course we stopped every now and then, for the boat could not be at the -landing yet, and we had much to tell each other. - -As we stepped upon the beach, and under the eaves of a jutting rock, a -tall man stood before us. His eyes and beard were black as jet, and he -wore the loose dress of a Southern seaman. Three sailors, unmistakeably -English, were smoking and playing cards in the corner shade of the -cliff. Lily started violently, turned pale, and clung to me, but faced -the intruder bravely. He was quite amazed at her beauty, I at his -insolent gaze. - -"Fiordalisa Della Croce," he said with a pure Tuscan accent, "behold me! -I am come to claim you." - -He actually laid his small, but muscular hand upon my Lily's shoulder. -She leaped back as from a snake. I knew it must be Lepardo. - -"Sir," I said, as calmly as I could, "oblige me by allowing my wife to -pass." - -The sneering, supercilious look which he hardly deigned to spare me, was -honest, compared to his foul stare at her. - -"Signor, she is too beautiful. I must have my rights. Come for her -when I am tired, if any can tire of her." - -And he thrust his filthy, hairy lips under my own pet's hat. My muscles -leaped, and my soul was in the blow. Down he went like a flail, and I -thought he was stunned for an hour; but while I was bearing my pet to -the boat, which now was close to the beach, up he leaped, and rushed at -me with a dagger--a dagger like one which you know. I did not see him, -but Lily did over my shoulder; she sprang from my arms and flung herself -between us. He thrust her aside, and leaped at me like a panther, -aiming straight at my heart. How he missed me I cannot tell, but think -it was through Lily. Before he recovered, I closed with him, wrested -away the weapon and flung it far into the sea. But one main thing I -omitted; I ought to have stunned him thoroughly. Into the boat with -Lily--I caught up an oar, and away we dashed. The three English sailors -were running up. As a wave took the boat about, one of them grasped the -stern; down on his knuckles crashed my oar, and with a curse he let go. -All right, all clear, off for the yacht for your lives. I would show -fight, for my blood is up, but what would become of Lily? And we are -but three against four, and none of us have arms. - -Meanwhile, that black Italian, I can never call him a Corsican, sneaked -away to a tuft of sea-grass for his double-barrelled fusil. Bowing with -all my might, I saw him examine the priming, lay his red cap on a rock, -and the glistening gun on the cap, and, closing one eye, take steady -aim, not at me, but at Lily. Poor Lily sat on the thwart at my side, -faintly staring with terror. No time to think; oar and all I dashed in -front of my darling. A ping in the air, a jar on my wrist, a slight -blow on my breast, and at my feet dropped the bullet. It had passed -through the tough ash handle. Down, Lily, down, for God's sake; he is -firing the other barrel. I flung her down in the bilge water; the brute -cannot see her now. Not quite so easily off. Up a steep rock he -climbed like a cat, the cursed gun still in his hand. He won fifty feet -of vantage, and commanded the whole of the boat. We were not eighty -yards away. There he coolly levelled at my prostrate Lily. I had grey -hairs next morning. Forward, I threw myself, over my wife; me he might -kill if he chose. One lurch of the boat--a short sea was running--and -my darling's head was shown. He saw his chance and fired. Thank God, -he had too little powder in; my own love is untouched. The ball fell -short of Lily, and passed through my left foot, in at the sole and out -below the instep. Luckily I had retained my dancing shoes, or my thick -boots would have kept the ball in my foot. The brute could not see that -he had hit any one, and he cursed us in choice Italian. - -Poor Lily had quite swooned away, and knew nothing of my wound. Over -the side of the yacht I lifted her myself, standing upon one leg. No -one else should touch her. So furious I was with that cold-blooded -miscreant, that if I could only have walked, I would have returned to -fight him. My men, too, were quite up for it. But when Lily came to -herself, and threw her arms round me and wept, and thanked God and her -saints, I found my foot quite soaked in a pool of blood, and stiffening. -Poor little dear! what a fuss she did make about it! I would have borne -ten times the pain for the smiles and tears she gave me. One thing was -certain--under the mercy of God, we owed our lives to each other, and -held them henceforth in common. - -As, with a flowing sheet, we doubled the craggy point, concealed close -under the rocks we saw a low and snake-like vessel, of the felucca -build. She was banked for three pair of sweeps, and looked a thorough -rover. This was, of course, Lepardo's boat. We now bore away for -Ajaccio, dear Lily having implored me not to think of Girolata, where no -medical aid could anyhow be procured. Moreover, she wanted to fly from -that dark Lepardo; and I am quite willing to own that, despite my -delicious nursing, I was not ambitious to stand as target again during -our honeymoon. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - -At first I thought a great deal more of the pain than the danger of my -wound; but when I showed it to the French surgeon at Ajaccio, he -surprised me by shrugging his shoulders formidably, and declaring that -it was the good God if I kept my foot. Being of a somewhat sceptical -turn, I thought at first that he only wanted to gild the frame of his -work; but when I began to consider it, I found that he was quite right. -The fact was, that I had thought much more of my bride than of my -metatarsals. Two of these were splintered where the bullet passed -between them, and it was a question whether it had not been poisoned. -Many of the mountaineers are skilled in deadly drugs, and use them -rarely for the bowl, not so rarely for the sword and gun. - -At one time there were symptoms even of mortification, and my wife, who -waited hand and foot upon me, joined the surgeon in imploring me to -submit to amputation. - -"Sweetest mine! do you suppose that I shall love you any the less -because you walk on crutches, and all through your love of me? And what -other difference can it make to either of us? I shall cry a great deal -at first, for I love your little toe-nails more than I do my own eyes; -but, darling, we shall get over it." - -As she loved my toes so much, I resolved to keep them, if it was only -for her sake; and, after a narrow crisis, my foot began to get better. -To her care and tenderness I owed my recovery, far more than to the -skill of the clever surgeon. Six months elapsed before I could walk -again, and our little yacht was sent to Calvi to explain the long delay. -Fond as I was of the "Lily-flower," I was anxious now to sell her; but -my darling nurse, although she knew before our marriage that I was not a -wealthy man, would not listen to the scheme at all; for the doctor -ordered me, as I grew stronger, to be constantly on the water. - -"Not by any means, my own, will we sell our little love-boat. I should -cry after it like a baby; and another thing, far more important, you can -bear no motion except on board our _Lily_. Papa has got great heaps of -money, and he never can refuse me anything when I coax in earnest." - -Conscious as I was of my vile deceit, I would rather have died than -apply to Signor Dezio, albeit I am quite sure that he would soon have -forgiven me. So I wrote again to my good-natured brother and banker, -and told him all that had happened, but begged him not to impart it even -to your mother. I have strong reason for suspecting that he did not -conceal it from her; but as I never alluded to the subject before her, -she was too much a lady ever to lead me towards it. My motive for this -reserve was at first some ill-defined terror lest my fraud upon Signor -Dezio should come to light prematurely. Also I hate to be talked about -among people whom I despise. Afterwards, as you will perceive, I had -other and far more cogent reasons. - -I need not say that your father--dear Clara, I ought to love you, if -only on his account!--your father wrote me a kind and most warm-hearted -letter, accompanied by a most handsome gift--no loan this time, but a -wedding-gift, and a very noble one. Also he pressed me to come home -with my bride the moment I could endure the voyage. Ah! if I had only -obeyed him, not Lily and Henry, but myself would have been the victim. - -We returned as soon as possible to Vendetta tower, and found the good -Signor in excellent spirits, delighted to see his sweet daughter again, -and still more delighted by hope of a little successor to the gray walls -and the olive groves. When this hope was realized, and a lusty young -grandson was laid in his arms, he became so wild in his glory, that he -went about boasting all over the commune, feasting all who came near -him, forgetting the very name of the blood-revenge. Many a time we -reminded and implored him to be more careful. He replied, that his life -was of no importance now; he had come to his haven among his own dear -ones, and was crowning the old ship with flowers. Moreover, he knew -that the De' Gentili were of a nobler spirit than to shed the blood of a -gray-haired man, when institution did not very loudly demand it. And so -I believe they were. - -Alas! the poor old man!--a thorough and true gentleman as one need wish -to see--choleric albeit, and not too wide of mind; but his heart was in -the right place, and made of the right material, and easy enough to get -at. He was free to confess his own failings, and could feel for a man -who was tempted. Deeply thankful I am that, before his white beard was -laid low, I acknowledged to him my offence, and obtained his hearty -forgiveness. Little Henry was on his lap, going off into smiles of -sleep, with his mother's soft finger in his mouth. At first my -confession quite took the poor Signor aback; for I did not attempt to -gloss the dishonour of what I had done; but I told him truly that the -meanness was not in my nature, and although I had won my pet Lily, the -road ran through hemlock and wormwood. And now I perceived how -uncalled-for and stupid the fraud had been. - -When the old man recovered a little from the shock caused by the -dishonesty--towards which recovery the tears of his daughter and the -smiles of his grandson contributed--he was really glad to find that I -was not a landed Signor. He rubbed his hands and twitched his beard -with delight, for now his little Enrico would never be taken away to the -barbarous English island. Was he not rightful successor to the lands of -the Della Croce? and what more could he possibly want? What could he -care for the property in Gloisterio? However, he made us promise that -if the present remarkable baby, Master Henry Vaughan, should ever enjoy -the property in the unpronounceable county, Lily's second child, if she -had one, should take the Corsican lordships; for his great fear was, -that the Malaspina and Della Croce estates should become a servient -tenement to the frozen fields of the North. To express and ensure his -wishes, he had a deed-poll prepared according to his own fancy, read it -to us and some witnesses, then signed, sealed, and enrolled it. This -was one of the documents which you, my brave Clara, rescued from that -vile, stealthy ghost. - -And now, for a short time, we enjoyed deep, quiet, delicious happiness. -The crime which had haunted me was confessed and forgiven. Amply -possessed of the means, and even the abundance of life, I was blessed -with strong health again, and freedom among the free. Richest and best -of all blessings, I had a sweet, most lovely, and most loving wife, and -loved her once and for all. No more beautiful vision has any poet -imagined than young Lily Vaughan sitting under the vine-leaves, her form -more exquisite than ever, her soft-eyed infant in her lap wondering at -his mother's beauty, while her own deep-lustred eyes carried to her -husband's, without the trouble of thinking, all that flowed into her -heart--joy at belonging to him, hope of bliss to come, fear of -over-happiness, pride in all the three of us, and shame at feeling -proud. Then a gay coquettish glance, as quick youth warms the veins, -and some humorous thought occurs, a tickle for the baby, and a feint of -cold-shouldering me. But, jealous as I was, desperately jealous, for my -love was more passionate than ever, I can honourably state that Lily's -one and only trial to arouse my jealousy was an ignominious failure, -recoiling only on the person of the dear designer. However exacting -little Harry might be, I never grudged him his double share of -attention. In the first place I looked upon him as a piece of me, still -holding on; and, in the next place, I knew that all he laid claim to was -only a loan to him, and belonged in fee simple to his father. - -At this time I wrote to my brother again, announcing the birth of our -boy, and that we had made him his namesake; dispensing, too, with all -further reserve on the subject of our marriage. This letter was never -delivered to your dear father. That much I know, for certain; and at -one time I strongly suspected that our cold-blooded, crafty foe -contrived to intercept it. But no; if he had, he would have known -better afterwards. - -After that cowardly onslaught upon my bride and myself, I had of course -learned all I could of the history of this Lepardo. He was the only son -of the Signor's only brother, but very little was known of him in the -neighbourhood, as he came from Vescovato on the east side of the island. -He was said to have great abilities and very great perseverance, and -under the guardianship of his uncle had been intended and partly -educated for the French Bar. But his disposition was most headstrong -and sullen; and at an early age he displayed a ferocity unusual even in -a Corsican. Neither had he the great redeeming trait of the islanders, -I mean their noble patriotism. One good quality, however, he did -possess, and that was fidelity to his word. With one of the -contradictions so common in human nature, he would even be false in -order to be true: that is, he would be treacherous wherever he was -unpledged, if it assisted him towards a purpose to which he was -committed. While he was yet a boy, his intended career was cut short by -an act of horrible violence. He disliked all the lower animals, horses -and mules especially; and one day he was detected by a master of the -Paoli College, screaming, and yelling at, and lashing, from a safe -distance, a poor little pony whom he had tied to a fence. The master, -an elderly man, very humane and benevolent, rebuked him in the most -cutting manner, and called him a low coward. The young villain ran off, -with his eyes flashing fire, procured a stiletto, and stabbed the poor -man in the back. Then he leaped on the horse he had been ill-treating, -and pricking him with the dagger, rode away furiously in the direction -of Bastia. The pursuers could not trace him through the wild mountain -district, but it was believed that he reached the town and took refuge -in an English brig, which was lying off the harbour, and sailed for -Genoa that evening. The pony was found dead, lying by the roadside with -the brute's dagger in its throat. No wonder Lily, who told me all this, -with true Corsican rage in her eyes, no wonder my Lily hated him. Even -as a little girl, for she was but ten years old when he disappeared, she -always felt a strong repugnance towards him. He was about six years -older than Fiordalisa, and four years younger than I; so when he shot at -Lily, he must have been three-and-twenty. It was reported that after -his disappearance he took to a sea-faring life, and made himself very -useful, by his knowledge of languages, in the English merchant service. -Quarrelling with his employers, he was said to have resorted to -smuggling in the Levant, if not to downright piracy. - -Clara, for reasons I cannot explain, I wish you to follow my story step -by step in its order, noting each landing-place. To do this with -advantage, you must have the dates carved upon each of the latter: -therefore I beg you to copy them as you pass. - -I arrived in Corsica, as you heard, during the month of May, 1829. On -the 12th of August in that same year I first beheld my Lily. That day I -remember, beside other reasons, because I had wondered, as I rode idly -along, whether my brother was opening his usual Highland campaign, and -whether he would like to shoot the muffrone. Lily and I were married on -the 21st of March, 1830, when I was twenty-seven years old: and our -little Henry first saw the light on the 24th of December following, more -than two years before your birth. Your father having no children as -yet, I looked upon my Harry as heir presumptive to these estates. -Although your birth appeared to divest him of the heirship, it has -since, through causes then unknown to me, proved otherwise; and if he -were living now, he would in strict law be entitled to this property -after my death. But if he were alive, he never should have an inch of -it, that is if I could prevent it; because in strict righteousness all -belongs to you. And now I hold the property in fee simple, under an Act -which abolishes fines and recoveries; for I have suffered so much from -remorse, ever since your dear mother's death, that even before you saved -my life, dearest child, I enrolled a deed in Chancery, which gives me -disposing powers; and as I think you know, I made thereupon a will -devising the lands to you. This also was one of the documents you -caught that vile hypocrite stealing. - -To return to the old Signor. He was now as happy as the day was long, -and desirous, as an old man often is, to set on foot noteworthy schemes, -which might survive his time. Of this desire I took advantage to -inoculate him with some English views. It was rather late to learn -another catechism, at threescore years and five; but a green old age was -his, hale and hearty as could be. "Why should all those noble olives -shed, and rot upon the ground, all those grapes of divers colours be of -no more use than rainbows? Why should all the dazzling marbles slumber -in the quarry, the porphyry of Molo, the verde antique of Orezza, the -Parian of Cassaconi, the serpentine near Bastia, and the garnets of -Vizzavona--nay even the matchless white alabaster-- - -"Mother of our Lord, I have got such pretty stuff in my cavern on the -gulf of Porto. Some one told me it was the very finest alabaster. But -then it would require cutting out." The last thought seemed a poser. - -"Well, father"--so I called him now--"when Harry has finished his tooth, -suppose we go all together in the yacht and see it." - -And so we did; and it was worth a voyage all the way from London only to -look at it. Pillars of snow, pellucid, and fancifully veined, like a -glacier shot with sea-weed; clean-working moreover, and tough, and of -even texture, as I proved to my Lily's delight. There is now a small -piece in the drawer of my walnut-wood desk. But I took home a square -block with me, and under my wife's most original criticisms, worked it -into a rough resemblance of the baby Henry. Perhaps I have a natural -turn for sculpture, perhaps it was a wife's flattery; but at any rate -the young mother was so charmed with it, that in one of her pensive -moments she even made me promise, that if she died soon and alone, I -would have the little recumbent figure laid upon her breast. - -Meanwhile the Signor was gayer than ever: he told us to have no anxiety -about anything less than a score of children; to such effect would he -work his great olive grounds, quarries, and vineyards. Some ingenious -plan he formed, which delighted him hugely, but was past my -comprehension. As fast as he quarried his alabaster, he would plant -young vines in the holes, and every one knew how the vine delighted to -run away over the rocks. So at once he must set off for Corte, the -central town of the island, to procure a large stock of tools -well-tempered in the Restonica. That turbulent little river possesses a -magic power. Its water is said to purify steel so highly that it never -can rust again. I have even heard that the cutlers of Northern Italy -import it, for the purpose of annealing their choicest productions. For -my part, little as I knew of commerce, I strongly recommended that -arrangements for shipping and selling the alabaster should be made, -before it was quarried. But the Signor scorned the idea. - -Having in prospect all the riches of Croesus, and in possession enough -to make us happy, and having worked, as we thought, uncommonly hard, we -all four indulged in a tour through Sicily and Italy, proposing to visit -and criticise the principal marble quarries. By the time we had done -all this and enjoyed it thoroughly--dear me, how my wife was admired in -the sculptor's studio!--and by the time we had fallen to work again, -surveyed and geologised all the estates, taken, or rather listened to, -long earfuls of advice, settled all our plans summarily over the -Rogliano, and reopened them all the next morning, by this time, I say, -nearly three years of bliss had slipped by, since my recovery from the -lingering wound; and it was now the summer of 1833. My loving wife was -twenty years old, and we were looking forward to the birth of a brother -or sister for Harry. Meanwhile we had heard of your birth, which -delighted us all, especially my Lily. She used to talk, in the fond way -mothers discover, to Harry, now gravely perched up on a stool, about his -little sweetheart away in the dark north country. - -It was in the month of July 1833 that the Signor found he could no -longer postpone his visit to Corte. Alone he would go, riding his -favourite jennet, as sure-footed as a mule, and as hardy as a mustang. -Behind him he slung his trusty fusil, with both barrels loaded, for he -had to traverse a desert and mountainous district haunted by banditti. -He was to travel through by-ways to Novella, and so on to the bridge -where the roads from Calvi and Bastia meet, put up in rude quarters -there for the night, and follow the steep descent to the town of Corte -next day. In vain we begged him to take some escort, or at least to let -me go with him. No, I must stop to guard the Lily and the little -snow-drop; could he possibly take me at such a time from home, and did I -think a Della Croce was afraid of bandits? It was a Monday morning when -he left the tower, and he would be back on Saturday in good time for -supper. He kissed and blessed his Lily, and the little snow-drop as he -called young Harry, who cried at his departure; and then he gave me too -an earnest trembling blessing. By this time he and I had come to love -each other, as a father and a son. - -I went with him quite to the borders of the commune; and there, in a -mountain defile, I lit for him his cigar. With some dark foreboding, I -waited till I saw him reach and pass the gap at the summit of the rise. -There he turned in the saddle to wave his last adieu, and his beard, -like a white cloud, floated on the morning sky. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - -On the Saturday night, an excellent supper was ready: the Signor's own -particular plate was at the head of the table, and by it gleamed, in a -portly bottle, his favourite Rogliano. Little Harry, who could say -anything he was told, and knew right well what was good, or at least -what tasted good--that beloved child was allowed to stop up, that -grandpapa might kiss him; this was a sovereign specific, believed in the -nursery creed, to ensure sweet sleep for both. - -That silver beard never kissed the chubby cheek again. All night we -waited and wondered: Harry was sent to bed roaring; no grandpapa -appeared. The olives rustled at midnight, and out I ran; the doors -creaked afterwards, and I opened them, all in vain; the sound of hoofs -came up the valley before the break of day; but no step or voice of man, -no bark of his favourite mountain hound, no neigh of the jennet to her -sleepy brother-horses. - -All Sunday we remained in terrible uneasiness, trying to cheer each -other with a hundred assurances that the dear old man must have turned -aside to see an ancient friend living now at Prato. When Monday morning -came, but brought no tidings of him, I set off, amid a shower of tears, -to seek the beloved father. The old fusileer was left on guard, and I -took two young and active men, well acquainted with the mountain passes. -All well mounted, and well armed, we purposed to ride hard, and search -the track quite up to the town of Corte. There, if indeed he had ever -arrived, we should be sure to hear of him. But it proved unnecessary to -go so far from home. - -Along that dreary mountain road, often no more than a shepherd's walk -difficult to descry, we found no token of any traveller either living or -dead, until we came to the Ponte Leccia, where the main roads meet. -Here our fears were doubled, and the last hope nearly quenched; for on -asking at the shepherd's hut, where Signor Dezio meant to put up, we -found that he had slept there on the Friday night, as he was returning -from the town. The shepherd's wife, who had known him for years, -assured us that he was in wonderful spirits and health, insisted upon -her supping with them--which is contrary to Corsican usage--and boasted -much of the great things he would do, and still more of his beautiful -grandson. His goatskin wallet was full of sample tools, which were to -astonish his English son, and he had a toy gun no bigger than the tail -of a dog, with which he intended to teach the baby to shoot. Telling us -all these little things, and showing us her presents, the poor woman -cried at the thought of what must have happened to him. Right early on -Saturday morning he set off, as impatient as a child, to see his beloved -ones again, and exhibit all his treasures. For love of the Della Croce -her husband had groomed the mare thoroughly, and she neighed merrily -down the hill at thought of her stable friends. Moreover, the -shepherd's wife told us that there had been in those parts no bandit -worth the name, since the death of the great Teodoro, king of the -mountains, whose baby still received tribute. - -After resting our horses awhile, with heavy hearts we began to retrace -our steps through that awful wilderness. Instead of keeping together, -as we had done in the morning, we now rode in parallel lines, right and -left of the desert track, wherever the ground permitted it. All this -district is very barren and rugged, and the way winds up and down, often -along the brink of crags, or through narrow mountain gorges. The -desolation and loneliness grew more oppressive, as the shadows -lengthened. - -We had thoroughly searched two-thirds of the distance homeward, and had -crossed some granite heights whence the sea was visible; the sun was low -over Cape Bevellata, and the vapours from the marsh were crouching at -the mountain's foot. Here as I rode to the left of my two companions, I -heard the faint bay of a dog far down a deep ravine, that trended -leftward from our course. Putting my jaded animal to his utmost speed, -I made for the hollow which echoed the dismal sound--a feeble bark -prolonged into a painful howl. Turning the corner sharply I scared two -monstrous vultures, who were hovering over and craning at a dog. The -dog so gaunt and starved, that at every bark the ribs seemed bursting -the skin, still was fighting past despair with his loathsome enemies. He -stood across the breast of the noble Signor Dezio. There lay that -gallant cavalier, stark and rigid, with his eyes wide open, and his -white beard tipped with crimson. There he lay upon his back, his kingly -head against a rock, his left hand on his clotted breast and glued -thereto with blood; his right hand hung beside his chin whence it had -slipped in death, and in it still securely grasped was a trinket newly -made, containing a little sheaf of the baby's flossy hair tied with a -black wisp of the mother's. The poor old man had dragged himself -thither to die, and died with that keepsake on his lips. The fatal shot -had been fired from above, and passed completely through his body. It -pierced his lungs, and I believe that he felt little pain, but gasped -his simple life away. Near him was his wallet, with the tools still in -it; I think he had been playing with the toy gun when he received the -wound; at any rate it lay separate from the rest, and at the old man's -side. - -Examining by the waning light, with icy awe upon me, the scene of this -damned atrocity, I found that the hoary traveller must have dismounted -here, to eat his frugal dinner. A horn cup and a crust of bread were on -a rocky shelf, and a little spring welled down the dingle, with the mark -of the dog's feet here and there. The craven foe had been sneaking along -behind, and took advantage of the old man's position, as he sat upon a -stone to make certain of him from the granite loophole. We found the -very place where the murderer must have crouched, but the cliff-side -kept no footprint. The victim's gun was gone, and so was the Spanish -mare: no other robbery seemed to have been committed. - -This glen led to a shorter but more difficult track towards home, which -the Signor, in his impatience, must have resolved to try. Reverently we -laid him on the freshest horse; while I with the faithful mountain dog -on my saddle--for he was too exhausted to walk--rode on to break the -melancholy news, and send assistance back. - -To break bad news--the phrase is a failure, the attempt it implies a -much worse one. Lily knew all in a moment, and in her delicate state -she received so appalling a shock, that for a week she lay on the very -threshold of death. At the end of that time, and three days after the -old man's funeral--at which for his daughter's sake I allowed no -wailings or voceros--a lively little girl was born, who seemed to be -none the worse for her mother's bitter sufferings. Her innocent -caresses, or some baby doings optimised by her mother--though even as a -new-born babe she seemed a most loving creature--all those soft -endearing ways, which I could not understand, did more to bring my -Lily's spirit back than even my fond attentions. - -But as yet, though able to walk again, and nurse her child, whom she -would not commit to another, my wife remained in a fearfully sensitive -and tremulous condition. The creak of a door, the sound of a foot, the -rustle of the wind--and she, so brave and proud of yore, started like a -cicale, and shook like a forest shadow. In everything she feared the -ambush of that sleuth cold-blooded reptile, on whom alone, truly or not -God knows, she charged the blood of her venerable father. But still she -had the comfort of a husband's love, a husband even fonder than when the -flowers fell on his path; and still she had the joy of watching, with a -mother's tender insight, the budding promise of two sweet infants. -Infants I call them, why Master Harry was now a thorough chatterbox! -With all this love around her, she by far the loveliest, the pride and -glory of all, was sure to find her comfort soon upon the breast of time, -even as small Lily found it in her own sweet bosom. Deeply and long we -mourned that ancient Signor, chivalrous and true gentleman, counsellor -of all things. Every day we missed him; but could talk of it more as -time flowed on. Rogliano had no sparkle, Luri not the tint of old: -never could I pour out either from his favourite flagon, without a -thought of him who taught us the proper way to do it; who ought to be -teaching us still, but was lying foully murdered in his lonely grave at -St. Katharine's on the Cliff. - -We had done our utmost to avenge him: soon as I could leave my wife, I -had scoured all the neighbourhood. The Sbirri too had done their best, -but discovered nothing. Brave fellows they are, when it comes to -fighting, but very poor detectives. Only two things we heard that -seemed at all significant. One of these was that a Spanish jennet, like -the Signor's favourite "Marana," but dreadfully jaded and nearly -starved, had been sold on the Friday after the murder, being the very -day of the funeral, at the town of Porto Vecchio on the south-eastern -coast. I sent my coxswain Petro, an intelligent and trusty Corsican, to -follow up this clue; for I durst not leave my wife as yet. Petro -discovered the man who had bought the mare, and re-purchased her from -him, as I had directed: but the description of the first seller did not -tally with my recollections of Lepardo. However, it proved to be the -true Marana; and glad she was to get home once more. - -The other report, that seemed to bear upon the bloody mystery, was that -a swift felucca, flush-built and banked for triple sweeps, had been seen -lying close in shore near point Girolata, during the early part of the -week in which the Signor left home. And it was even said that two -Maltese sailors, belonging to this felucca, had encamped on shore in a -lonely place near Otta, and were likely to be found there still. - -Lily being stronger now, I determined to follow this last clue myself; -and so I put the little yacht into commission again, and manned her with -Calvi men, for all my English crew had been dismissed long ago. Leaving -my wife and children under the care of the old fusileer, away I sailed -from St. Katharine's, intending to return in three days' time. All this -coast I now knew thoroughly, and Otta was not far beyond the poor -Signor's cave of alabaster. It is a wild and desert region, far away -from any frequented road, and little visited except by outlaws. - -We found no trace of any tent, no sign of any landing, and an aged -fisherman, whom we met, declared that no felucca or vessel of any sort -had lately been near the bay. I began to fear that, for some dark -purpose, I had been beguiled from home, and despatched upon a fool's -errand. The dreary coast was still the home of solitude, the alabaster -cave untouched since our pic-nic survey; the marks of which were -undisturbed except by wind and weather. So I crowded sail, and hurried -back to St. Katharine's, with a strange weight on my heart. To add to -my vexation, a strong north wind set in, and smartly as our cutter -sailed, we were forced to run off the land. When at last we made the -cove, it was unsafe for the yacht to anchor, and so I was compelled to -send her on to Calvi. - -It was nearly midnight on the 2d of October, when Petro and myself -plodded up the wooded hill on which the old tower stands. Weary and -dispirited, though glowing every now and then with the thought of all my -darlings, in vain I called myself a fool for fearing where no fear was. -When we reached the brow of the hill, my vague alarm was doubled. The -rude oil-lamps that marked the entrance, why were they unlighted? I had -especially ordered that they should be kindled every night, and Lily had -promised to see to it herself. No challenge from the watchman, no click -of the musket hammer, even the vinea was not in its place. In vain we -knocked and knocked at the old chesnut doors; no one answered, no one -came to open. None of the loopholes showed a light; the house was dark -and silent as the ivy. Wild with terror I ran to the little side-door, -whence first my Lily met me. This too was locked, or fastened somehow; -and only the echo of my knock was heard. Petro and I caught up a great -bough of ilex, which myself had lopped last week, rushed at the door -with the butt, and broke it in with one blow. Shrieking for Lily, Lily, -I flew from room to room, tumbling over the furniture, blundering at the -doorways. No voice of wife, no cry of child, no answer of domestic; all -as silent as if ten fathoms under water. - -Having dashed through every room, I turned to rush off to the hamlet, -when my foot struck something--something soft and yielding; was it a -sack or bolster? I stooped to feel it; it was Lily, laid out, stiff and -cold Dead, my Lily dead! Oh, God can never mean it; would He let me -love her so? - -For all intents of actual life, for all that we are made for, for all -the soul's loan of this world, I died that very moment; and yet a mad -life burned within me, the flare of hope that will not die. How I -forced her clenched hands open, bowed her rigid arms around me, threw -myself upon her, breathed between her lips and listened, tore her simple -dress asunder and laid my cheek upon her heart; feeling not a single -throb, flooded her cold breast with tears, and lay insensible awhile. -Then, as if awaking, felt that she was with me, but somehow not as -usual; called her all our names of love, and believed we were in heaven. -But there stood Petro with a light, sobbing, and how his beard -shook!--What right had he in heaven? Would they let him in without -shaving? I rose to order him out; when he restored my wits awhile by -pointing with his finger. - -"Look, look, Signor! She is not dead, I saw her eyelid tremble." - -Wide she opened those glorious eyes, looked at me with no love in them, -shuddered, and closed them again. - -Mad with rapture, I caught her up, sent Petro headlong lamp and all, and -kissed her enough to kill her. She was not dead, my Lily, my pet of -eternal ages. There she fell trembling, fluttering, nestling in my arms, -her pale cheek on my breast, her white hand on my shoulder; then -frightened at her nest shrunk back, and gazed with unutterable reproach, -where love like the fallen lamp was flickering: then clung to me once -more, as if she ought to hate, but could not yet help loving. She died -the next morning. Clara, I can't tell you any more now. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - -Before my own and only love departed, she knew, thank God, she knew as -well as I did, that I had never wronged her pure and true affection. -But it was long before I learned what had so distressed her. Though she -appeared quite sensible, and looked at me, every now and then, with the -same reproachful harrowing gaze, it seemed to me ages, it must have been -hours, before she could frame her thoughts in words. In an agony of -suspense for her, for our children, for our love, I could hardly repress -my impatience even at her debility. Many a time she opened her -trembling lips, but the words died on them. At last I caught her -meaning from a few broken sentences. - -"How could he do it? How could he so betray her? And his own Lily that -loved him so--no, she must not be Lily any more, she was only Fiordalisa -Della Croce. How could he come and pretend to love her, and pretend to -marry her, when all the while he had a young wife at home in England? -Never would she have believed it but for the proofs, the proofs that -hateful man had shown her. How could he shame his own love so, and his -children, and the aged father--there was no hope for her but to die--to -die and never see him more; and then perhaps he would be sorry, for he -must care about her a little." - -Then she burst into such a torrent of tears, and pressed both hands on -her bounding heart, and grew white with terror. Then as the palpitation -passed, she looked at me and knew me, and crept close to me, forgetting -all the evil,--and seemed to sleep awhile. Of course I saw what it was; -dazed as I was and wild at her sorrow and danger, I slowly perceived -what it was. The serpent-like foe had been there, and had hissed in her -ear what he thought to be true--that I had done her a dastard's wrong; -had won her passionate maiden love, and defiled her by a sham marriage, -while my lawful wife was living. - -When once I knew my supposed offence, it did not take long to explain -the murderer's error, an error which had sprung from my own deceit. But -my children, where are my children, Lily? - -In her ecstatic joy, she could not think for the moment even of her -children; but pressed me to her tumultuous heart, as if I were all she -wanted. Then she began to revile herself, for daring to believe any ill -of her noble husband. - -"And even if it had been true, which you know it never could be, -dear,--I must have forgiven you, sweetest darling, because you couldn't -have helped it, you did love me so, didn't you?" - -This sweet womanly logic, you, Clara, may comprehend--But where are the -children, my Lily? - -"Oh, in bed I suppose, dear: let me get up, we must go and kiss the -darlings. When I first came in, I could not bear to go near them, poor -pets; but now--Oh my heart, holy Madonna, my heart!" - -She leaped up as if she were shot, and a choking sound rose in her -throat.. Her fresh youth fought hard in the clutches of death. "Oh -save me, my own husband, save me. Hold me tighter; I cannot die yet. -So young and so happy with you. It is gone; but the next pang is death. -Hold me so till it comes again. God bless you, my own for ever. You -will find me in heaven, won't you? You can never forget your own Lily." - -Her large eyes rested on mine, as they did when she first owned her -love; and her soul seemed trying to spring into the breast of mine. -Closer to me she clung, but with less and less of strength. Her smooth, -clear cheek was on mine, her exhausted heart on my wild one. I felt its -last throb, as the death-pang came, and she tried to kiss me to show -that it was not violent. Frantic, I opened my lips, and received the -last breath of hers. - -The crush of its anguish her heart might have borne, but not the rebound -of its joy. - -Her body, the fairest the sun ever saw, was laid beside her father's in -the little churchyard at St. Katharine's, with the toy baby on her -breast; her soul, the most loving and playful that ever the angels -visited, is still in attendance upon me, and mourns until mine rejoins -it. - -You have heard my greatest but not my only distress. For more than three -months, my reason forsook me utterly. I recognised no one, not even -myself, but sought high and low for my Lily. At night I used to wander -forth and search among the olive-trees, where we so often roved: -sometimes the form I knew so well would seem to flit before me, tempting -me on from bole to bole, and stretching vain hands towards me. Then as -I seemed to have overtaken and brought to bay her coyness, with a faint -shriek she would vanish into hazy air. Probably I owed these visions to -capricious memory, gleaming upon old hexameters of the Eton clink. True -from false I knew not, neither cared to know: everything I did seemed to -be done in sleep, with all the world around me gone to sleep as well. -One vague recollection I retain of going somewhere, to do something that -made me creep with cold. This must have been the funeral of my lost -one; when the Corsicans, as I am told, fled from my ghastly stare, and -would only stand behind me. They are a superstitious race, and they -feared the "evil eye." - -All the time I was in this state, faithful Petro waited on me, and -watched me like a father. He sent for his wife, old Marcantonia, who -was famed for her knowledge of herbs and her power over the witches, who -now beyond all doubt had gotten me in possession. Decoctions manifold -she gave me at the turn of the moon, and hung me all over with amulets, -till I rang like a peal of cracked bells. In spite of all these -sovereign charms, Lepardo might at any time have murdered me, if he had -thought me happy enough to deserve it. Perhaps he was in some other -land, making sure of my children's lives. - -Poor helpless darlings, all that was left me of my Lily, as yet I did -not know that even they were taken. Petro told me afterwards that I had -asked for them once or twice, in a vacant wondering manner, but had been -quite content with some illusory answer. - -It was my Lily, and no one else, who brought me back to conscious life. -What I am about to tell may seem to you a feeble brain's chimera; and so -it would appear to me, if related by another. But though my body was -exhausted by unsleeping sorrow, under whose strain the mental chords had -yielded, yet I assure you that what befell me did not flow from but -swept aside both these enervations. - -It is the Corsican's belief, that those whom he has deeply mourned, and -desolately missed, are allowed to hover near him in the silent night. -Then sometimes, when he is sleeping, they will touch his lids and say, -"Weep no more, beloved one: in all, except thy sorrow, we are blessed as -thou couldst wish." Or sometimes, if the parting be of still more -tender sort, (as between two lovers, or a newly wedded couple) in the -depth of darkness when the lone survivor cannot sleep for trouble, -appears the lost one at the chamber door, holds it open, and calls -softly; "Dearest, come; for I as well am lonely." Having thrice -implored, it waves its cerements like an angel's wing, and awaits the -answer. Answer not, if you wish to live; however the sweet voice thrills -your heart, however that heart is breaking. But if you truly wish to -die, and hope is quenched in memory; make answer to the well-known -voice. Within three days you will be dead, and flit beside the invoking -shadow. - -Perhaps old Marcantonia had warned me of this appeal, and begged me to -keep silence, which for my children's sake I was bound to do. All I -know is that one night towards the end of January, I lay awake as usual, -thinking--if a mind distempered thus can think--of my own sweet Lily. -All the evening I had sought her among the olive-trees, and at St. -Katharine's Church, and even on the sad sea-shore by the moaning of the -waves. Now the winter moon was high, and through the embrasured window, -the far churchyard that held my wife, and the silver sea beyond it, -glimmered like the curtain of another world. Sitting up in the widowed -bed, with one hand on my aching forehead--for now I breathed perpetual -headache--I called in question that old church of one gay wedding and -two dark funerals. Was there any such church at all; was it not a dream -of moonlight and the phantom love? - -Even as I sat gazing now, so on many a moonlight night sat my Lily -gazing with me, whispering of her father's grave, and looking for it in -the shrouded distance. Her little hand used to quiver in mine, as she -declared she had found it; and her dark eyes had so wondrous a gift of -sight, that I never would dare to deny, though I could not quite believe -it. Had she not in the happy days, when we roamed on the beach -together, waiting for the yacht and pretending to seek shells, had she -not then told me the stripes and colours of the sailors' caps, and even -the names of the men on deck, when I could hardly see their figures? - -Ah, could she tell my own name now, could she descry me from that shore -which mocks the range of telescope, and the highest lens of thought; was -she permitted one glimpse of him from whom in life she could hardly bear -to withdraw those gentle eyes? Answer me, my own, in life and death my -own one; tell me that you watch and love me, though it be but now and -then, and not enough to break the by-laws of the disembodied world. - -Calmly as I now repeat it, but in a low melodious tone, sweeter than any -mortal's voice, a tone that dwelt I knew not where, like the sighing of -the night-wind, came this answer to me: - -"True love, for our children's sake, and mine who watch and love you -still, quit this grief, the spirit's grave. All your sorrow still is -mine, and would you vex your darling, when you cannot comfort her? -Though you see me now no more, I am with you more than ever; I am your -image and your shadow. At every sigh of yours, I shiver; your smiles are -all my sunshine. Let me feel some sunshine, sweetest; you know how I -used to love it, and as yet you have sent me none. I shall look for -some to-morrow. Lo I, for ever yours, am smiling on you now." - -And a golden light, richer than any sunbeam, rippled through the room. -I knew the soft gleam like the sunset on a harvest-field. It was my -Lily's smile. A glow of warmth was shed on me, and I fell at once into -a deep and dreamless sleep. You, my child, who have never known such -loss--pray God you never may--very likely you regard all this incident -as a dream. Be it so: if it were a dream, Lily's angel brought it. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - -The next day I was a different man. All my energy had returned, and all -my reasoning power; but not, thank God, the rigour of my mind, the petty -contempt of my fellow-men. Nothing is more hard to strip than that coat -of flinty closeness formed upon Deucalion's offcast in the petrifying -well of self. Though I have done my utmost, and prayed of late for help -in doing it, never have I quite scaled off this accursed deposit. This -it was that so estranged your warm nature, Clara; a nature essentially -like your father's, but never allowed free scope. You could not tell -the reason, children never can; but somehow it made you shiver to be in -contact with me. - -Petro and Marcantonia would have been astonished at my sudden change, -but they had lately dosed me with some narcotic herb, procured, by a -special expedition, from the Monte Rotondo, and esteemed a perfect -Stregomastix; so of course the worthy pair expected my recovery. No -longer did they attempt to conceal from me the truth as to my poor -infants, who had been carried off on the day of my return. What I -learned of the great calamity, which then befell me, was this. - -Towards sunset, my dear wife, with her usual fondness, went forth to -look for the little yacht returning from the gulf of Porto. Our darling -Harry, then in his third year, was with her, and the young nurse from -Muro. Lily sat upon the cliff, watching a sail far in the offing, -probably our vessel. Then as she turned towards the tower, a man from -the shrubbery stood before her, and called her by her maiden name. She -knew her cousin Lepardo, and supposed that he was come to kill her. -Nevertheless she asked him proudly how he dared to insult her so, in the -presence of her child and servant. He answered that it was her name, -and she was entitled to no other. Then he promised not to harm her, if -she would send the maid away, for he had important things to speak of. -And thereupon he laid before her documents and letters. - -Meanwhile the tower was surrounded by his comrades; but they durst not -enter, for the trusty fusileer kept the one approach up the steep -hillside; and his grandson, a brave boy, stood at the loop-hole with -him. The maid, however, with her little charge, was allowed to pass, and -she joined the two other women in weak preparations for defence. The -period of attack had been chosen skilfully. So simple and patriarchal -is the Corsican mode of life, that very few servants are kept, even by -men of the highest station; and those few are not servants in our sense -of the word. It happened this night that the only two men employed upon -the premises, beside the old fusileer, had been sent into the town for -things wherewith to welcome me. - -However, the faithful gunner, with his eye along the barrels, kept the -foe at bay, and seemed likely to keep them there, until the return of -the men; while his sturdy grandson split his red cheeks at the warder's -conch. But they little knew their enemy. Lepardo Della Croce was not -to be baulked by an old man and a boy. At the narrow entrance a lady's -dress came fluttering in the brisk north wind. Poor Lily tottered -across the line of fire, her life she never thought of; what use to live -after all that she had heard? Close behind her, and in the dusk -invisible past her wind-tossed drapery, stole her scoundrel cousin; -whom, like trees set in a row, or feather-edged boards seen lengthwise, -a score of lithe and active sailors followed. No chance for the -marksman; like tiles they overlapped one another, and poor Lily, upright -in her outraged pride, covered the stooping graduated file. French and -English, Moorish and Maltese, a motley band as ever swore, they burst -into a hearty laugh at the old gunner's predicament, the moment they had -passed his range. All within was at their mercy. True he kept the main -gate still, and all the doors were barred; but gates and doors were -lubber's holes for seamen such as they. Up the ivy they clambered, -along the chesnut branches, or the mere coignes of the granite, and into -the house they poured at every loop-hole and window. One thing must be -said in their favour--they did very little mischief. They were kept -thoroughly under command, and a wave of their captain's hand drove them -anywhither. All he wanted was possession of my children, and of some -valuable property which he claimed in right of his father. - -Having secured both objects, he ordered his men to depart, allowing them -only to carry what wine and provisions they found. But the three -domestics, and the ancient sentinel and his boy, were bound hand and -foot, and concealed in a cave on the beach, to prevent any stir in the -neighbouring hamlet. Poor Lily was left where she fell, to recover or -not, as might be. My own darling was not insulted or touched; the men -were afraid, and Lepardo too proud to outrage one of his kin. Moreover, -his word was pledged; and they say that he always keeps it. Soon after -dark the robbers set sail, and slipped away down the coast, before that -strong north wind which had so baffled me. But for me a letter was -left, full of triumph and contumely. It was addressed to "Valentine -Vaughan, the Englishman;" "Signor Valentine" was the title conferred on -me by the fusileer, and adopted by the neighbourhood. To my surprise -that letter was written in English, and English as good as a foreigner -ever indites: I can repeat it word for word:-- - - -"SIR,--I am reluctant to obtrude good counsel, but with the obtuseness -of your nation you are prone to the undervaluing of others. It is my -privilege to amend this error, while meekly I revindicate my own -neglected rights. From me you have stolen my bride and my good -inheritance, and in a manner which the persons unversed in human nature -would be inclined to characterise as dastardly and dissolute. -Furthermore, you have rendered the heiress of the noblest house in -Corsica a common Englishman's adulteress. If I had heard this on the -day of your mocking marriage, not the poor victim but you, you, would -have been my direction. Now I will punish you more gradually, and -longer, as you deserve. Your unhappy adulteress knows the perfidy of -your treachery, and your two poor bastards shall take refuge with me. -The inquiry with respect to my drowning them to-night is dependent upon -the stars. But if I shall spare them, as I may, because they cannot -come between me and my property, I will teach them, when they are old -enough, to despise and loathe your name. They shall know that in the -stead of a father's love they have only had a vagabond's lust, and they -shall know how you seduced and then slew their mother; for death, in my -humble opinion, appears in her face to-night. Although she has betrayed -me, I am regretful for her: but to you who have disgraced my name and -plundered me, as a man of liberal and exalted views I grant a -contemptuous forbearance; so long, that is to say, as you remain -unhappy, which the wicked ought to be. Of one thing, however, I bid you -to take admonishment. If I hear that you ever forget this episode of -debauchery, and return to your English wife and property, no house, no -castle that ever was edified, shall protect you from my dagger. -Remember the one thing, as your proverb tells, I am slow and sure. - -LEPARDO DELLA CROCE." - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - -Instead of enraging or maddening me, as the writer perhaps expected, -this execrable letter did me a great deal of good. I determined to -lower that insufferable arrogance; and brought all my thoughts to bear -upon one definite object, the recovery of my darlings and the punishment -of that murderer. I did not believe that he had destroyed them, or was -likely to do so; for had not their mother's spirit referred to them as -living? - -Without delay, my yacht was prepared for a lengthened cruise; the tower -committed to Marcantonia and the gray sentinel; and with Petro for my -skipper, I sailed on the following day. Alas, the three months now -elapsed during my delirium, had they not like the sea itself closed -across the track? All the neighbours knew was this, the felucca had -passed Point Girolata, and had been seen in the early morning, standing -away due south. All the villagers, and even the men from the mountain, -thronged the shore as I embarked, and there invoked Madonna's blessing -on poor Signor Valentine, so basely robbed of wife and children. - -When we had rounded Girolata, we bore away due south, and in less than -fifteen hours made the Sardinian shore in the gulf of Asinara. Here we -coasted along the curve, inquiring at every likely place whether any -such vessel had been sighted as that which we were seeking. But we could -learn nothing of her until we were off the Gypsum Cape; where some -fishermen told us, that at or about the time we spoke of, a swift -felucca, built and manned exactly as we had described, glided by them -and bore up for the town of Alghero. We too bore up for Alghero, and -soon discovered that the roving vessel had undoubtedly been there: even -Lepardo, the captain, was described by the keen Sardinians. But she had -only lain to for a few hours, and cleared again for Cagliari. For -Cagliari we made sail as hard as the sticks could carry, and arrived -there on the fourth day from Cape Girolata. - -The pirates, if such they were, had offered their vessel for sale at -Cagliari; but, failing of a satisfactory price had sailed away again, -and after much trouble I found out that their destination was Valetta. -To Valetta also we followed, feeling like a new boy at school who is -mystified by the experts--innocent of much Greek themselves--with a game -which means in English, "send the fool on further." - -When at length we reach the Maltese capital--where I was not sorry to -hear once more my native tongue--we found the felucca snugly moored near -the "Merchant's Yard," and being refitted as a pleasure-boat for a -wealthy Englishman. This gentleman knew a good deal about ships, but -not quite enough. Pleased with the graceful lines and clean run of the -felucca, he had given nearly twice her value for her; as he soon -perceived when the ship-carpenters set to work. He was in the vein to -afford all possible information, being thoroughly furious with the -condemnable pirates--as he called them, without the weakness of the -composite verb--who had robbed him so shamefully of his money. He told -me that my children had been ashore, and Harry was much admired and -kissed in the Floriana. One thing the sailors did which would have -surprised a man unacquainted with the Corsicans, or perhaps I should say -the islanders of the Mediterranean. They decked my little babe with -flowers and ribands, and bore her in procession to the church of St. -John of Jerusalem; and there they had her baptized, for Lepardo had -found out that she had never undergone the ceremony. I was anxious to -see the record, but was not allowed to do so; therefore I do not know -what the little darling's name is, if she be still alive: but they told -me that the surname entered was not Vaughan, but Della Croce. It was -said that the sailors had become very fond of her, the little creature -being very sweet-tempered and happy, and a pleasing novelty to them. -Very likely they named her after their own felucca. - -The crew being now dispersed, some to their homes, and some on board -ships which had sailed, I was thrown completely off the scent. All I -could learn, at a house which they had frequented, was that Lepardo, the -commander, had long ago left the island. Whither, or in what ship, he -had sailed, they could not or would not tell me: he had always plenty of -money, they said, and he spent it like a prince. But Petro, who was a -much better ferret than I, discovered, or seemed to have done so, that -the kidnapper and murderer had taken passage for Naples. My heart fell -when I heard it; almost as easily might I have tracked him in London. -At Naples I had spent a month, and knew the lying ingenuity, the -laziness in all but lies, of its swarming thousands. However, the -little yacht was again put under way, and, after a tedious passage, we -saw the Queen of cities. Here, as I expected, the pursuit was baffled. - -I will not weary you with my wanderings, off more often than on the -track, up and down the Mediterranean, and sometimes far inland. If I -marked them on a map, however large the scale, you would have what -children call a crinkly crankly puzzle, like Lancashire in Bradshaw. -Once, indeed, I rested at the ancient tower, near my Lily's grave, which -I always visited twice in every year. I have some vague idea, now in my -old age, that though we Vaughans detest any display of feeling--except -indeed at times when the heart is too big for the skin--we are in -substance, without knowing it, a most romantic race. Whether we are -that, or not, is matter of small moment; one thing is quite certain, we -are strutted well and stable. We are not quick of reception, but we are -most retentive. Never was there man of us who ever loved a woman and -cast her off through weariness; never was there woman of our house who -played the jilt, when once she had passed the pledge of love. And after -all I have seen of the world, and through my dark misfortune few men -have seen more, it is my set conclusion that strong tenacity is the -foremost of all the virtues. My enemy has it, I freely own, and through -all his wickedness it saves him from being contemptible. - -For a time, as I said before, I paused from my continual search, and -abode in the old gray tower. That search now appeared so hopeless, that -I was half inclined to believe no better policy could be found than -this. Some day or other the robber would surely return and lay claim to -the lands of the Della Croce. At present he durst not do it, while under -the ban of piracy and the suspicion of his uncle's murder. Moreover, I -thought it my duty to see to the welfare of my children's property. -Under the deed-poll of the old Signor, his friend at Prato and myself -were trustees and guardians. But I could not live there long: it was -too painful for me to sit alone in the desolate rooms where my children -ought to be toddling, or to wander through the shrubberies and among the -untended flowers, every one of them whispering "Lily." Formerly I had -admired and loved that peculiar stillness, that rich deep eloquent -solitude, which mantles in bucolic gray the lawns and glades of Corsica. -But when I so admired and loved, I was a happy man, a man who had -affection near him, and could warm himself when he pleased. Now though -I had no friends or friendship, neither cared for any, solitude struck -me to the bones, because it seemed my destiny. - -After striving for half a year to do my duty as a hermit Signor, I found -myself, one dreary morning, fingering my pistols gloomily, and fitting a -small bullet into my ear. My thumb caught in the guard of the Signor's -locket, and jerked it up my waistcoat. It was the same which the poor -old man had pressed to his dying lips. There was Lily's hair and -Harry's, and a tiny wisp of down since added, belonging to baby--name -unknown. Looking at them and seeing how Lily's bound them together and -to me, I felt ashamed of my cowardly gloom, and resolved to quit myself -like a man in my duty towards the three. I rode at once to Prato, and -persuaded Count Gaffori to come and live at the tower. Like his old -friend the Signor, he had only himself and his lovely daughter to think -of; but unlike Signor Dezio he had lost nearly all his paternal -property, through political troubles. Therefore it was for him no -little comfort and advantage to be placed at the head of a household -again, and restored to some worldly importance. Nevertheless, his sense -of honour was so nice and exacting, that I thought I should never -succeed in bringing him to my views; and indeed I must have failed but -for his daughter's assistance. A very sweet elegant girl she was, and -she had been a great friend of my Lily's. If I could ever have loved -again, I should have loved that maiden: but the thing was impossible. - -The old Count promised to come and settle at Veduta tower--which name, -in light days, I had corrupted into "Vendetta"--and living there to -assume the management of the estates, in trust for my lost infants, as -soon as his arrangements could be made. I saw nothing that need have -delayed him a day; however, he declared that he must have a month to get -ready, and he was plainly a man whom nature meant not to be pushed. So -I employed the interval in having my dear old "Lilyflower" overhauled at -Marseilles, coppered, and thoroughly painted. I could not bear to alter -our little love-boat, as my darling called it, even in outward -appearance; but like our love she had laboured through many a tempest; -unlike it, she needed repairs. However, I saved from the painter's -brush our favourite quarter-deck bench, whereon through the moonlight -watches my Lily seemed still to recline. - -And so my life for some years wandered on, a worthless, unsettled, -forlorn existence, only refreshed at intervals by return to the scenes -of past happiness. If I had really wronged Lepardo Della Croce, he -could hardly have wished for a better revenge. But in truth I had never -wronged him. Even if I had never come near his betrothed, it is quite -certain she would not have accepted him. And he, by his own desertion, -had left her free to choose. - -Late in the autumn of 1812, when I had abandoned all hope of ever -recovering my little ones, except by one of those eddies of Providence, -which we men call accidents, and in which I place my confidence to this -hour, at that season, I say, I landed at Gibraltar, being wind-bound in -the straits. We were making for Lisbon, where I was to ship some -English watches, guns, and fine cutlery for Ajaccio. What a loss of -rank for the "Lilyflower," to turn her into a trading smack! Well, I -could not see it so; and I am sure her late mistress, who with all her -sweet romance was an excellent hand at a bargain, would have thought it -far more below my dignity for me to sponge on our children. There was -plenty of money in hand at Veduta tower; but having retired from -stewardship, I did not feel myself justified in drawing upon my -children. Therefore, and for the sake of the large acquaintance and -great opportunities gained, I had renewed my connection with the firm of -Green, Vowler, and Green. Somehow, I could not bear to revisit the -shores of England; otherwise I am sure that with the knowledge I now -possessed of the Mediterranean ports, and a house of such standing and -enterprise to back me, I should quickly have made my fortune. My -vessel, moreover, was much too small for the fruit-trade, even if I -could have lowered her to an uncleanly freight; but she was just the -craft for valuable goods in small compass. I knew the Corsican fondness -for arms and first-rate cutlery; and the tools the poor Signor Dezio -meant to astonish me with, certainly did astonish me by their wonderful -badness. True, the material was good, but all the waters of the -Restonica will not convert a hammer into a handsaw. Although hardware -was not at all in his line of business, Peter Green most kindly -undertook to send me a cargo of first-rate Sheffield and Birmingham -goods, by a return fruit-schooner. These, consigned to his Lisbon -agent, I could fetch away, as I pleased, or wanted them. Having -arranged with a shrewd merchant of Ajaccio to take my goods wholesale, -and save the dignity of all the Vogheni from haggling, I had already -made six trips, and in spite of the most tyrannical douane perhaps in -all the world, I as a Corsican, importing goods in a Corsican bottom, -had cleared very nearly three hundred per cent. on my outlay. We were -now on our seventh voyage, to reship the last of the second English -consignment, when a violent gale from the west met us right in the -teeth, and we were forced to bear up for the anchorage. A first-rate -sea-boat the "Lilyflower" was, although she had been built for racing, -and for two or three years had beaten all competitors, whenever there -was wind enough for a cat to stand on the sheets. But one hot June day -she got beaten in a floating match, when the lightest bung went fastest, -and her prig of a "noble owner" sold her in disgust, and built a thing -that drew as much water as a nautilus. In her he was happily upset, and -could hardly find a sheet of paper to hold on by. Knowing some little -about yachts, from my pool and reach experiences, I bought the famous -racing cutter at about a quarter her value; and even in these, her olden -days, she could exhibit her taffrail to the smartest fruit-clipper--the -name was then just invented--that ever raced for the Monument. Her -register was fifty tons, but she carried eighty. - -Landing at Gibraltar, I kept clear of my countrymen, not that I dislike -them, but because--well I cannot tell why; and strolled away to the -Spanish and Moorish quarters. - -It was a windy evening, and in front of a low refreshment house some -sailors and Spanish girls were dancing. A squabble arose among them; -something I think it was about a young girl's dress. Knives were drawn, -and two men were stabbed in less than the time I am speaking. I just -saved the life of one, just saved it by half an inch. A fine-looking -Spaniard lay under a Moor, who had tripped him up in their quick way. -The point of the knife had flashed through the Spaniard's shirt and his -flesh was cut, before the swing of my stick--upwards luckily--had jerked -the Moor off his body. If I had struck downwards, or a millionth part -of a second later, the blade would have stood in the heart. But I knew -those fellows by this time. The Moor lay senseless from the quick -upper-cut on his temples, and the knife was quivering where the impulse -had failed it. - -Now if Petro and I held deliberate choice--"proairesis" Oxford calls -it--not to be turned into knife-sheaths, our only chance of developing -into action that undeniable process of "nous," was to be found in the -policy, vulgarly called "cut and run." At a shrill signal, from ship -and from shore, the Moors came swarming silently and swiftly. Their -yellow slippers and coffee-coloured legs seemed set upon springs by -excitement. Some of the Spaniards stood bravely by us, and with their -aid we hurried the wounded man into our boat, and pushed off just in -time. Unlike the Corsican peasants, our pursuers carried no fire-arms, -and before they could get any, we were at safe distance. - -Having sent for an English surgeon, we kept the poor sailor on board the -yacht, until he was quite out of danger. We Britons are not, as a -general rule, an over-grateful race; we hate to be under an obligation, -and too often illustrate the great philosopher's saying, that the doer -feels more good will than the receiver of a kindness. Moreover, the -Spaniards, in the neighbourhood of the Rock, could hardly be expected to -love us, even if we were accustomed, which it is needless to say we are -not, to treat them with decent courtesy. Therefore I was surprised at -the deep and warm gratitude of this wounded man. A thing that enhanced -his debt to me--for life, in my opinion, is very little to owe--was that -he loved a young girl, the one over whom they had quarrelled, and he was -about to marry her. - -Discovering who I was, for he knew nothing of me at first, he saw that -he could be of no little service to me. The only obstacle was a solemn -oath; but from this, he believed, he could soon obtain release. With an -Englishman's honest and honourable repugnance to any breach of faith, I -was long reluctant to encourage this absolution. But the thought of my -helpless children, robbed of their inheritance, and, still worse, of a -father's love, and dependant on the caprice of a superstitious villain, -this, and the recollection of my desolating wrongs, overpowered all -scruples. And is it not a wiser course, and more truly Christian, to -port the helm than to cross the bows of another man's religion, at any -rate so long as it be Christian also, though frogged in a pensioner's -coat? - -Being duly absolved--for which he would not allow me to pay--the Spanish -sailor told me all he knew. He had been Lepardo's mate, on many a -smuggling run, and in many an act of piracy off the coast of Barbary. -But he had never liked his captain, no one ever did; though all the crew -admired him as the cleverest man in the world. After the felucca was -sold and her crew dispersed, the mate had followed for a while the -fortunes of Lepardo. He told me things about him which I knew not how -to believe. However, I will not repeat them, because they do not seem -to bear upon my story. The name of my little girl he could not -remember, for he was not at the christening, and she was always called -the baby. Being a good-natured man he took kindly to the children, and -told me anecdotes of them which brought the tears to my eyes. - -After two or three months spent at Naples, they all left suddenly for -Palermo, on account, as the mate believed, of my unexpected arrival; and -here he lost sight of his commander, for tired by this time of an idle -life, and seeing no chance of any more roving adventures, he accepted a -berth in a brig bound for the Piraeus, and now after many shifts and -changes was first mate of a fruit vessel sailing from Zante to London. -The most important part to me of all his communication was that, on -their previous voyage, they had carried to England Lepardo Della Croce -and my two dear children. That murderer and kidnapper had taken the -lead in some conspiracy against the government of the Two Sicilies, and -through the treachery of an accomplice had been obliged to fly for his -life. Disguising himself he contrived to reach Gibraltar, and took -refuge on English ground. He was now very poor and in great distress, -but still clung to the children, of whom he appeared to be fond, and who -believed him to be their father. The "Duo Brachiones" touching there, -as usual, for supplies, Lepardo met his old mate ashore; and begged for -a passage to England. They took him to London, and there of course lost -sight of him. He was greatly altered, the mate said, from the Lepardo -of old. Morose and reserved he had always been; but now misfortune had -covered him with a skin-deep philosophy. But his eyes contracted and -sparkled as of yore, whenever my name was mentioned; and the mate knew -what his intention was, in case he should find me a happy man. The -simple mate was still more surprised at the alteration in my children; -as pretty a pair, he said, as ever he set eyes on. But they were kept -most jealously from the notice of the crew, and even from their ancient -friend's attentions; they were never allowed to be on the deck, except -when the berths were being cleaned. They seemed to fear their reputed -father, a great deal more than they loved him. - -Upon hearing this last particular I seized the mate by the hand, and -felt something rise in my throat: I was so delighted to learn that the -pirate had not succeeded in carrying nature by boarding. The next day I -left Petro to see to the hardware business--to which we were bound by -charter--while I set sail in the "Duo Brachiones" for the arms of my -darling little ones. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - -They put me in the very hammock where that murderer of all my happiness -had slept, and no wonder that I could find no rest there. Soon as I -knew the reason, I was allowed to change, and crept into the little -berth where my innocent pets had lain in each other's arms. Here I slept -much better than a king, for I even fancied that it smelt of Lily. If -little Lily, as she shall be called, whatever the rogues have christened -her, if my little beauty--for that I am sure she must be--ever comes to -light, when I am in my grave, remember one thing, Clara, you will find -her breath and general fragrance just as her mother's were. Such things -are hereditary, especially among women. - -After a long and stormy passage, and a fortnight spent in repairing at -Bordeaux, we passed the familiar Essex marshes by night, and were off -the Custom House by the last day of the year. When that tedious work -was over--talk as we please of the douane, our own is as bad as most of -them--feeling quite out of my latitude, and not a bit like an -Englishman, I betook myself to a tavern near London Bridge. There -everything seemed new, and I could not walk the streets without yawing -into the wrong tide. But one old London custom held its ground with -time. Papers a week and a fortnight old still strayed about in the -coffee-room. Being told that the journals of that day were "in hand," -as they always are, I took up a weekly paper of some ten days back to -yawn over it till supper time. It was too late for me to think of -disturbing Peter Green by a sudden arrival, and so I had ordered a bed -at this hotel. - -The weekly gazette in my hand was one of those which use the shears with -diligence and method. Under the heading "Provincial News," I found the -following paragraph:-- - - -"SEASONABLE BENEVOLENCE.--We understand that in these times of severe -and unmerited pressure upon the agricultural interest--the true -back-bone of old England--the head of one of our most ancient and -respected county families has announced his intention of remitting to -all his tenantry no less than twenty per cent. upon their rentals. He -has also bespoken a lavish and most princely repast--shall we say -dinner--to be provided on Christmas eve for every man, woman, and child -upon his large domain. When we announce that mine host of the Elephant -is to be major domo, and our respected townsman George Jenkins, who -purchased as our readers are aware the gold medal ox at Smithfield, is -to cater for the occasion, need we say anything more? At the risk of -gratuitous insult to the intelligence of the county, we must subjoin -that the honoured gentleman to whom we allude is Henry Valentine -Vaughan, Esquire, of Vaughan Park. Is not such a man, the -representative of time-honoured sentiments, and who to a distinguished -degree adds the experience of continental travel, is not such a man, we -ask, a thousand times fitter to express in the Senate the opinions and -wishes of this great county, than the scion, we had almost said spawn, -of the Manchester mushrooms, whom a Castle that shall be nameless is -attempting to foist on the county? We pause for a reply.--_Gloucester -Argus_." - - -My dear brother's distinguished degree was that of B.A. after a narrow -escape from pluck. Clara, don't look offended. Your father had very -good abilities, but spent most of his Oxford time in pigeon matches at -the Weirs, and expeditions to Bagley wood, which later in life he would -have looked upon as felonious. - -This paltry puff would never have been reprinted by a London journal of -eminence and influence, but for the suggestion at the end, which -happened just to hit the sentiments of the more exalted editor. Now -this weekly paper was sure to circulate among refugees from the -continent, by reason of its well-known antipathy towards them; and there -happened to be in this very number a violent tirade against our -Government for displaying what we delight to call the mighty AEgis of -England. I saw the danger at once, and my heart turned sick within me. -My gay and harmless brother in the midst of his Christmas rejoicings, -and a stealthy murderer creeping perhaps at that very moment towards -him. - -But even if it were so, was there not some chance of Lepardo discovering -his mistake, when in the neighbourhood where the Vaughans were so well -known? Yes, some chance there was, but very little. Bound upon such an -errand he would not dare to show himself, or to make any inquiries, even -if they seemed needful. And the mention by that cursed gossip of what he -called "continental travel"--your father's wedding tour--would banish -all doubt of identity, had any been entertained. Even supposing that -cold-blooded fiend should meet my poor brother, face to face, in the -open daylight, it was not likely that he would be undeceived. Lepardo -and I had met only once, and then in hot encounter. My brother was like -me in figure, in face, and in voice; and though I was somewhat taller -and much darker of complexion, the former difference would not attract -attention, unless we stood side by side; the latter would of course be -attributed to the effects of climate. From the gamekeeper's evidence, I -am now inclined to believe that Lepardo, while lurking in the lower -coppice, among the holly bushes, must have cast his evil eyes on your -poor father's face, and convinced himself that he beheld his enemy. - -Flurried and frightened, I looked at the date of the paper. It was -twelve days old. Possibly I might yet be in time, for most likely the -murderer would set out on foot, according to Corsican practice, with the -travel-stone bound on his knee. Even if he had travelled in modern -fashion, he would probably lurk and lie in ambush about the house, -enduring hunger and cold and privation, until his moment came. Could I -leave for Gloucester that night? No, the last train would have started, -before I could get to Paddington. So I resolved to go by the morning -express, which would take me to Gloucester by middle day. - -After a sleepless night, I was up betimes in the morning, and went -through the form of breakfast while the cab was sent for. Presently a -waiter came in with the morning papers, the papers of New Year's-day, -1843. What I saw and what my feelings were, you, my poor child, can too -well imagine. That day I could not bear to go. It was cowardly of me, -and perhaps unmanly; but I could not face your mother's grief and the -desolate household. Therefore I persuaded myself that I had discharged -my duty, by visiting all the London police stations, and leaving the -best description I could give of Lepardo. The following day I left -London, and arrived, as perhaps you remember, long after dark, and -during a heavy fall of snow. There at the very threshold I began amiss -with you, for I outraged your childish pride by mistaking you for the -housekeeper's daughter. With a well-born child's high self-esteem, and -making no allowance for the dim light, you believed it to be a sham -intended to mortify you; and it poisoned your heart towards me. But you -were wholly mistaken. My mind was full of your mother and of the -terrible blow to her; to you, whom I had never seen, and scarcely even -heard of, I never gave a thought; except the mistaken one that you were -not old enough to be sensible of your loss. Little did I imagine what a -fount of resolute will, and deep feeling, found a vent in the kicks and -screams of the large-eyed minnikin, that would not be ordered away. - -You are entitled, Clara, to know all that I have done towards the -discovery of your father's assassin, and all that I can tell to aid your -own pursuit. The hair found in your mother's grasp was beyond a doubt -Lepardo's; that laid upon your father's bosom was, of course, my Lily's. -It was to show that her supposed seduction had been expiated. The one -thing that most surprised me was that the murderer left no token, no -symbol of himself. In a Vendetta murder they almost always do, as a -mark of triumph and a gage to the victim's family. Hence I believed that -Signor Dezio was not killed in Vendetta, but by his nephew for gain. -How Lepardo got into the house I have no idea, or rather I had none, -until you told me of the secret passage, and Mrs. Daldy's entrance. -Till then I always thought that he had clambered up, as he did at Veduta -tower. But unless there was a traitor in the household, he must have -been there more than once, to have known so well your father's sleeping -room. - -It would have been waste of time for me to concern myself about the -county police. That body of well-conducted navvies--Lepardo would have -outwitted them, when he was five years old. Neither did I meddle with -the coroner and his jury, but left them to their own devices and -indigenous intellect. These displayed themselves in much puzzle-headed -cross-questioning, sagacious looks, and nods, and winks of acute -reservation. It was, as most often it is, a bulldog after a hare. -Lepardo might safely have been in the midst of them, asked for a chair, -and made suggestions. as "amicus curiae." - -But with the London police it was somewhat different. They showed some -little acumen, but their fundamental error is this--they pride -themselves on their intelligence. No man of any real depth ever does -such a thing as this. He knows very well that whatever he is, there are -half a million more so; that the age of exceptional intellects expired, -at least in this country, with Mr. Edmund Burke, and is not likely to -rise from the dead. Now we are all pretty much good useful clods on a -level: education, like all good husbandry, tends to pulverisation; and -if the collective produce is greater, let us be at once thankful and -humble. - -The London police, being proud of their intelligence, declared that -there could be no doubt about their catching the criminal. They laughed -at my belief that he might walk through the midst of them, while they -would touch their hats to him, and beg him to look after his -handkerchief. At one time, I think, they were really on his track, and -I went to London, and stayed there, and did my best to help them. But -they were all too late; Lepardo, if he it were, had left for Paris the -week before. To Paris I followed, but found no trace of him there. -Then I went on to Corsica, thinking it likely that he would return to -his old piratical ways. Moreover, I wanted to see how my children's -estates were managed, and to revisit St. Katharine's. - -All was calm and peaceful. Lily's grave and her father's were blended -in one rich herbage. There all the bloom of my life was drooping, like -the yellow mountain-rose, whence if a single flower be plucked, all the -other blossoms fall. - -Count Gaffori received me kindly. His daughter was married and had two -children, who played where Lily's boy and girl should by rights be -playing. I could not bear it, and came away, having nothing now to care -for. Wherever I went the world seemed much of a muchness to me; and to -my own misfortunes the blood of my brother was added. I found the -"Lilyflower" still under worthy Petro, and returned in her to England, -and she still is mine. Petro would not come; he was too true a Corsican -to leave the beloved island now his hair was grey. So I set him up at -Calvi with a vessel of his own, and now and then I receive a letter from -good Marcantonia. They have promised to watch for the reappearance of -our fearful enemy; and Petro has sworn to shoot him, if ever he gets a -chance. - -After my return to England, I set to work with all my energy to improve -this property. In this, if in nothing else, I have thoroughly -succeeded. Much opposition I had to encounter; for the tenants regarded -me as a mere interloper, and their hearts were with you and your mother. -When I call them together to-morrow, as I intend to do, abandon all my -right, title, and interest, and declare you their Signora, it is my firm -belief that they will hardly think me worth cursing before they worship -you. This old retainership is a thing to be proud and yet ashamed of. -It is a folly that makes one glory in being a fool. Why, after you left -for Devonshire (much, as you know, against my will), I could not ride -out without being insulted, and even the boys called me "Jonathan Wild." -But this was due, in some measure, to your father's gay geniality, and -hearty good-will to all men, contrasted with my satiric and moody -reserve. Neither were your youth, and sex, and helplessness, lost upon -that chivalrous being--if he only knew his chivalry--the sturdy English -yeoman. - -Why did I let you go? Well, I believe it was one of the many mistakes -of my life; but I had a number of reasons, though personal dislike of -you was not, as you thought, one of them. No, my child, I have never -disliked you; not even on the night when you came and denounced me, with -the dagger in your hand. I must indeed have been worse than I am, if I -could have nourished ill-will against a young thing, whom I had made an -orphan. By some instinct, you knew from the first that the deed was -mine, although I was not the doer. I would have loved you, if you would -have let me, my heart yearned so over children. But of my reason for -letting you go, the chiefest perhaps--setting aside that I could not -stop you--was this consideration. For years I had longed, and craved in -my heart of hearts, to tell your mother all, and obtain her gentle -forgiveness. But any allusion--no matter how veiled and mantled--to the -story of her loss threw her, as you know well, into a most peculiar -state, wherein all the powers of mind and body seemed to be quite -suspended. With a man's usual roughness of prescription for the more -delicate sex, I believed firmly that total change of living, and air, -and place, and habits, would relax this wonderful closure, secure my -forgiveness, and re-establish her health. The shock I received at her -death was almost as terrible as when my brother died. When I stood -beside you at her grave, I was come with the full intention of telling -you all my story, and begging you to return with me, and live once more -in your father's house. But your behaviour to me was so cold and -contemptuous, that I forgot my crushing debt to you; and humiliation -became, for the moment, impossible. I meant, however, to have written -to you that evening, before you should leave the village; but (as you -now are aware) that very evening, I was smitten helpless. Partially -recovering, after months of illness, I was deeply distressed to find -that you had left your good friends in Devonshire, and were gone, my -informants could not say whither. Neither had I learned your -whereabouts up to the time of my last illness, when I was making -inquiries, of which your enemy reaped the benefit. For the rest, you -know that I never meant to rob you of your inheritance, though bigoted -nonsense enables me. To-morrow, please God, I will put it out of my -power to do so. Mrs. Daldy's motive you have long since perceived. -Failing my children, and the attainted Lepardo, her son is the heir to -all the lands of the Della Croce. She has held me much in her power, by -her knowledge of parts of my history. Henry's baptismal entry, as well -as that of my marriage, was in the packet she stole. One word more, my -darling--and from an old man, who has wandered and suffered much, you -will not think it impertinent. Leave your revenge to God. In His -way--which we call wonderful, because the steps are unseen--He will -accomplish it for you, as righteousness demands. Any interference of -ours is a worm-cast in His avenue. Though I am stricken and dying, He, -if so pleases Him, will bring me my children before I die, that I may -bless Him, and tell my Lily." - - -I fell upon the old man's neck--old he was, though not in years--and as -I wept I kissed him. How could I have wronged him so, and how could I -keep myself from loving one so long unhappy? If sorrow be the sponge of -sin, his fault was wiped away. - - - - - CLARA VAUGHAN - - BOOK V. - - - - CHAPTER I. - - -At this time and place, I, Clara Vaughan, leap from the pillion of my -Uncle's pensive mule, and am upon the curb-stone of my own strange life -again. How I wandered with him through the olive groves of Corsica, how -I wept for his loving Lily, that ancient Signor, and the stolen babes; -and how, beyond the vomito of words, I loathed that fiend who had -injured whom or what most I know not, unless it were his own soul, if he -had any, and for God's sake I hope he had--all this, though I am too -weak of language, will, perhaps, be understood. - -To myself I would hardly confess the interest I could not discard in the -pure and constant love of that impassioned pair; for what had I any -longer to do with Pyramus and Thisbe? No more of love for me. You will -not see me droop, and fret, and turn to a mossy green. No nonsense of -that sort for me: I have a loop at either side entitled self-respect, -which will keep my skirt from draggling. Neither will I rush into the -opposite extreme, pronounce all love a bubble because my own has burst, -take to low-necked dresses, and admire cats more than babies. No; I am -only eighteen, not yet eighteen and a half; I have loved with all my -heart, and a free true heart it is, albeit a hot and haughty one; if it -be despised, outraged, and made nothing of, though I can never transfer, -I will not turn it sour. The world is every whit as fair, children are -quite as pretty, flowers have as rich a scent, and goodness as pure a -charm, as if that silly maiden Clara had not leaped before she looked. -And yet how I wish that I could only think so. - -Before I go on with my tale, I must recur to one or two little matters, -that everything may be as clear as it lies in my power to make it. For -although I am but a "female," as Inspector Cutting observed, I am doing -my best to make everything as clear as if told by a male. - -In the first place then, when my Uncle had recovered from the exertion -of telling his tale, I acquainted him with my discovery of the letters -upon the bed-hangings. They confirmed his account of the fearful -Vendetta usages, and explained the point which had been to him most -mysterious. - -Secondly, as to the anonymous letter which had led me first to London; -like the detective policeman, he now attached but little importance to -it. He had done his best, at the time, to trace the writer and follow -the clue, if there were any. But he had met with no success. His -reason for passing it on to me, was that he hoped to create some -diversion of my thought, some break in the clouds of my sorrow. - -Next, to show the full meaning of Mrs. Daldy's manoeuvres. Through her -connexion--which she had carefully cultivated, when it began to seem -worth her while--with her husband's kindred near Genoa, she had learned -some portions of my poor Uncle's history; for, as he himself observed, -the islanders are much addicted to gossip, as indeed all islanders are, -and continentals too for that matter, especially in hot climates. Now -there is no lack of intercourse between the Balagna and Genoa. Of -course our chastened hypocrite made the most of her knowledge in a -hundred ways, and by her sham sympathy and pretended aid--for up to the -time of his illness the desolate father still sought and sought--she -even secured some little influence over her brother-in-law. How often -is it so: though we know people to be false, we do not believe, when our -hearts are concerned, that they are so false to us. Moreover, when she -found him shattered in body and mind by paralysis, she commenced an -active bombardment, pulling out the tompions from every gun of mock -religion. But, as in her treatment of me, she displayed, in spite of -all her experience and trials, a sad ignorance of unregenerate human -nature. My Uncle was not the man, palsied or no, to be terrified by a -Calvinist: and he knew too much of her early days, and certain doings at -Baden, to identify her at present with the angel that stands in the sun. -And this prison-eyed mole made another mistake. Not content with one -good gallery, she must needs work two runs, side by side, in a very -mealy soil. The result was of course that they ran into one, and she -had to dig her way out. If she had worked, heart and soul, for my -Uncle's money only, which he rightly regarded as his own, and at his own -disposal, I believe she might have got most of it. At any rate, under -the will which I caught her carrying off, she was to take half of the -large sum which he had laid by; I mean if his children did not come to -light, and prove their legitimacy. But twenty-five thousand pounds -would be nothing to her dear son, who had inherited his father's -extravagance, or to herself, who loved high play. Therefore, believing -me out of the field, she began to plot for the Vaughan estate as well, -and furthermore for the magnificent property in Corsica. Of the Vaughan -estates she had no chance--albeit she had the impudence to propose a -compromise with me--of Veduta tower she had some prospect, if the right -heirs, the poor children, should never appear, or establish their claim, -and if she could procure the outlawry of Lepardo. - -Believing my Uncle to be dying by inches, she made a bold stroke for -possession of the most important documents; and, but for Giudice and me, -no doubt she would have succeeded. But she had dashed far out of her -depth, and had little chance now of reaching the coveted land. I hope -she felt that everything was ordered for her good. - -Another point which seems to require some explanation, is the discovery -by the assassin of the secret entrance, an access quite unknown to the -family, the servants, or any other person, except, at a later time, Mrs. -Daldy. The house, as I said before, was built upon the site and partly -embodied the fabric of a still more ancient structure. Probably these -narrow stairs, now enclosed in the basement of the eastern wall, had -saved many a ripe priest from reeling, in the time of the Plantagenets. -They led, I think, from the ancient chapel, long since destroyed, to the -chaplain's room, and perhaps had been reopened secretly during the great -rebellion, when the Vaughans were in hot trouble. Beatrice Vaughan, the -cavalier's child, who was now supposed to begin her ghost walk at the -eastern window, glided probably down this staircase, when, as the legend -relates, she escaped mysteriously from the house, in her father's -absence, roused the tenants, and surprised the Roundhead garrison in -their beds. The house was soon retaken, and Beatrice, in her youthful -beauty, given up to the brutal soldiers. She snapped a pistol at the -Puritan officer, and flew like a bird along this corridor. At the end, -while trying perhaps to draw the old oak slide--though nothing was said -of this--she was caught by the gloating fanatics, and stabbed herself on -the spot rather than yield to dishonour. The poor maiden's tomb is in -the church, not far from the chancel arch, with some lines of quaint -Latin upon it. Her lover, Sir William Desborough, slit that Puritan -officer's nose and cut off both his ears. I wonder that he let him off -so lightly; but perhaps it was all he was worth. Major Cecil Vaughan -married again, and the direct line was re-established. - -The chapel well, as it was called, dark and overhung with ivy, was a -spring of limpid icy crystal, spanned by and forming a deep alcove in -the ancient chapel wall, which, partly for its sake, and partly as a -buttress for the east end of the house, had been left still standing. -This old well had long time been disused, hiding, as it did, in a wild -and neglected corner out of sight from the terrace walk; and the -gardeners, who found the pump less troublesome, had condemned the water -as too cold for their plants. The mouth, with its tangled veil of ivy -and periwinkle, was also masked by a pile of the chapel ruins, now -dignified with the name of a rockwork. Some steps of jagged stone led -through the low black archway to the crouching water, which was so clear -that it seemed to doubt which was itself and which was stone. - -This peaceful, cold, unruffled well, formed the antechamber to the -murderer's passage. For on the right-hand side, not to be seen in the -darkness, and the sublustrous confusion, by any common eye, was a small -niche and footing-place not a yard above the water. It needed some -nerve and vigour to spring from the lowest stepping-stone sideways to -this scarcely visible ledge. None, of the few whose eyes were good -enough to espy it, would be tempted to hazard the leap, unless they knew -or suspected that the facing would yield to the foot, that it was in -fact a small door purposely coloured and jointed like the slimy green of -the masonry. In this well the murderer must have lurked; and he might -have done so from one year's end to another. There with the craft of -his devilish race--my Uncle may admire them, but not I--and with their -wonderful powers of sight, he must have found this entrance, and -rejoiced in his hellish heart. - -As for Mrs. Daldy, she found it out at the other end, most likely. -Unless my memory fails me, I spoke long ago of some boards which sounded -hollow to the ring of my childish knuckles. These were in the -skirting--if that be the proper name for it--under the centre of the -great oriel window. The oak slides, when pressed from below, ran in a -groove with but little noise, and without much force being used: but it -required some strength to move them on the side of the corridor. It was -the sound of these sliding boards which had first drawn Judy's notice: -but as they were in deep shadow, I neither perceived the opening, nor -gave him the opportunity. That woman would never have dreamed of the -thing, if she had not surprised me one day when I was prying about -there; she must have returned alone, and being, as we have seen, a -superior cabinet-maker, discovered the secret which baffled me. As I -did not want Judy to catch cold by watching there any longer, I had this -horrible passage walled up at either end, and built across in the -middle. - -Having thus made good my arrears, I am at liberty to proceed. When my -Uncle had paused from his many sorrows, which he did with a mellow -dignity not yet understood by me; and when I, in the fervour of youth, -had offered much comfort kindly received, but far better let alone, I -asked him for one thing only:--the most minute and accurate description -he could give of that Lepardo Della Croce. His answer was as follows:-- - -"My dear, I have seen him once only, and that more than twenty years -ago, and in an interview of some excitement"--I should think so indeed, -when one tried to kill the other--"but I will describe him to the best -of my recollection. He is rather a tall man, at least of about my own -height, but more lightly built than myself. His hands and feet are -remarkably small and elegant. His face is of the true Italian type, a -keen oval with a straight nose, and plenty of width between the eyes, -which are large and very dark. His forehead is not massive, but -well-formed, and much whiter than the rest of his face. The expression -of his countenance is that of shrewdness and versatility, with a -quickness eager to save both you and himself from the trouble of -completing your sentence. But all this is common enough. One thing I -saw, or fancied, which is not quite so common. As I dealt him that blow -with my fist, my eyes for one flash met his, and his leaped towards one -another, as if he had a strong cast in them. Before that, and -afterwards too, there was no appearance of any distortion: if there were -any at that moment, it arose from the start of terror or fury jerking -the muscles awry. His voice is flexible and persuasive, and soft as a -serpent-charmer's. I think he must be a most arrogant man; profoundly -convinced of his own abilities, but seldom caring to vindicate them. -Just the man to get on in the world, if he were only what is called -respectable. Just the man to break a woman's heart, and crush the -spirit of a meek and humble child. Ah, I would forgive him his sins -against me, though not his wrongs towards you, if I could only learn -that he had been kind to my children." - -This description dwelt on my mind for days and days of thinking. It did -not altogether apply to the man whom I had observed so closely at the -meeting of the conspirators. That man was of middle height, and though -his face was oval, there was scarcely the average width between the -eyes. And he did not seem to me like an arrogant man, cold except when -excited; but rather of a hasty, impassioned nature, sure to do its -utmost in trifles. Could it be that I had watched and hated the wrong -man? It might be so; and it was not unlikely that Mr. Cutting himself -knew not which was the guilty one. Like most of the London -policemen--my Uncle had taught me this--he was too proud of his sagacity -to be in truth very sagacious. Experience he had, and all that; but he -would not have done in Paris. The real depth, that goes below, and yet -allows for the depth of another, must be in the nature, can rarely exist -in a small one, and in a large one is seldom worked but for theoretical -purposes. Therefore shallow men overreach in daily life, and fancy they -have blinded those who know them thoroughly, and know themselves as -well. - -So far as my experience goes, large-natured men abhor cunning so much, -that they fear to work the depth of their own intelligence, because it -seems akin to it. So they are cheated every day, as a strong man yields -to the push of a child; and the fools who cheat them chuckle in the idea -that they have done it by fine sagacity, and without the victim's -knowledge. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - -At my earnest entreaty, the idea of assembling the tenants especially -was allowed to drop, and I was to be inducted at the Midsummer dinner, -which was very near at hand. A deed had been prepared by the London -solicitors, reciting the facts and assuring all the estate to me, as my -father's proper heiress. My Uncle also desired to settle upon me all -the personal property, except a sum of 10,000*l.*, which he would -reserve for his children, to enable them, if ever they should be found, -to establish their claims in Corsica: then if the son obtained his -rights, his sister was to have the money with all expenditure made good -by him. But I would not hear of it. It would have made me a rogue. By -his skill and economy, my Uncle, during the nine years of his -management, had saved more than 50,000*l.* from the proceeds of the -estate. But he had added at least an equal amount to the value of the -land, by carrying out most judiciously the improvements begun by my -father; and the whole was now considered the best-managed estate in -Gloucestershire. - -Therefore, when he abandoned his legal right, in the most honourable -manner, it would have been horribly shabby and unlike a Vaughan, to hold -him accountable for the back rents. I begged him to leave the whole of -it for the benefit of his poor children, requesting only, and -unnecessarily, that the hypocrite might not have sixpence. Another -thing I entreated, that he would prolong his guardianship, and -stewardship, if his health allowed it, until I should be of age, that is -to say, for two years and a half. Seeing how earnestly I desired it, he -undertook to do so, though he made the promise with a melancholy smile, -adding that he hoped his children would be found ere then, if he was to -see them at all. - -When the rent-dinner was over, and the glasses had been replaced, my -Uncle, who had not been there as usual, led me into the great old hall. -Feeble as he was, he entered with a grace and courtesy not always to be -discovered in the mien of princes. The supper--as the farmers called -it--had not begun till six o'clock; and now the evening sunshine glanced -through the western window, and between the bunches of stoning grapes -into the narrow doorway, stealing in from the Vinery with sandals of -leafy pattern. The hall was decked with roses, no other flower but -roses; yet who could want any other, when every known rose was there? -Even the bright yellow blossoms of the Corsican rock-rose, a plant so -sensitive that to steal one flower is to kill all the rest. From time -out of mind, some feudal custom of tenure by the rose had been handed -down in our family. - -All the guests rose as we passed, which made me rather nervous, albeit I -knew every one of them from my childhood up. Then my Uncle, leaning on -me, spoke a few words from the step, plain and simple words without -flourish or pretence. What he said was known long since, and had been -thoroughly discussed in every house of the village. He finished by -setting me in the black oak chair of state--which he had never used--and -presenting me with a rose; then he turned round and proposed my health. -When I took the rose, an exquisite crested moss, kissed it and placed it -in my bosom, according to the usage, such a shout arose, such an English -hurrah, that it must have echoed to the other bank of the distant -Severn. At first I was quite frightened, then I burst into tears as I -thought of him whose chair I sat in, whose memory still was echoing in -that mighty shout. It was not only love of right, or sympathy with a -helpless girl, that moved those honest bosoms, but the remembrance of -him who had been so pleasant to them, humble, kind and just, in one -word, a gentleman. - -But as they came up, one by one, and begged to take my hand, and wished -me joy and long life with all their hearts, I found that I was right in -one thing; I knew them better than my Uncle did. Instead of being rude -or cold to him, as he expected, they almost overwhelmed him with praise -and admiration. But all this I must not dwell on, for my story hurries -hence, and its path is not through roses. - -Annie Franks, who still was with us, and did not mean to go until she -had finished all the Froissart novels, and such a dear good girl she -was, that we hoped they would last for ever, Annie Franks brought me -next day two letters of aspect strange to "good society." One I knew at -a glance to be from Tossil's Barton, though the flourishes were amazing, -and the lead-pencil lines rubbed out. The other, a work of far less -ambition and industry, was an utter stranger; so of course I took it -first. Nevertheless, I will treat of it last, because it opens the -stormy era. - -Dear Sally's gossip is not to be served up whole. Even if it were -interesting to others as to me, my space permits no dalliance with -farm-yards, no idyls of Timothy Badcock, nay, nor even the stern iambics -of Ebenezer Dawe. Only to be just and clear, I may not slur it all. -The direction was remarkable. The farmer was always afraid of not being -duly explicit, for he believed that letters were delivered throughout -England as in the parish of Trentisoe; where all, except those for the -parson and Tossil's Barton farm, were set upside down in the window at -Pewter Will's, the most public-house in the place. The idea was -ingenious, and, I believe, original--having been suggested by the -Queen's boy, whose head Mrs. Huxtable punched. It was that no one could -read the name upside down, except the owner of the name and therefore of -the letter. Sound or not, I cannot say, having had no experience; but -there was this to be said for it, that no one would try the puzzle who -did not expect a letter, unless indeed he were of precocious genius, and -from that Trentisoe was quite safe. - -Upon the present "papper-scrawl," after a long description of me, -patronymical, local, and personal, the following injunctions and menaces -were added, "Not be stuck tops I turve I on no account in no public -house. She be in her own house now again, thank God and dang them as -turned her out I say, so mind you carr it there. A deal of money there -be in it, and no fear of Joe because he knows it, and there lives a man -in Gloucestershire knows me well by the name of Thomas Henwood. Best -look sharp I say. I be up to every one of you. John Huxtable his name, -no mark this time. God save the queen." - -So the farmer had actually learned to write, although as yet to a -strictly limited extent. Of course he had not written any of the above -except his name; but that was his, and did him credit, though it nearly -described a circle. - -After the warmest congratulations and returning the five-pound note, -which I had sent for interest, with an indignant inquiry from father -whether I took him for a Jew, and after several anecdotes and some -histories of butter sold at Ilfracombe market, Sally proceeded thus: - -"Now what do you think, Miss Clara dear? No you never would guess as -long as you live--father are going to London town, and me, and Jack, and -Beany Dawe. None of us have slept two grunts of a pig, ever since it -were made up, only father, and he always sleep without turning. Now -mind if I tell you all about it, you must not tell again, Miss Clara, -because there is ever so much money upon it, and we do hear they have -put it on some London paper and no business of theirs. Two great -gentlefolks, the greatest of any about these parts, have been and made -up a bet for my father to wrestle along with a great big chap as they -calls the North Country champion. Seems as some great Northern lord was -boasting in London one dinner-time, Speaker's dinner they called it -because there were a deaf and dumb dinner next day, this here great lord -was telling up as how Sam Richardson were the strongest man in the -world. So our Sir Arthur spake up for Devonshire, and laid him a -quart-pot full of sovereigns as he would find a better man in the West -country. And so I don't know the rights of it, nor father nor mother -either, but it was made up atwixt them that Farmer Huxtable, that's my -father, Miss, should try this great North country chap at the time of -the great Xabition--you never showed me the way to spell it, Miss, so I -go by the light of nature, as you used to say, Miss--and should take -best of three falls for 200*l.* a side. That will be 400*l.* for us, -when father gets it, and all his expenses paid, and they say the other -folk won't allow no kicking, so he must be a soft-shelled chap; but -father feel no call to hurt him, if so be he can help it. Mother don't -want father to go, but he say he be bound for the honour of old -Devonshire, or maybe they will take a man not good enough to make a -standard. - -And please, Miss, when we brings home the money, I be to go to Miss -Bowden's, in Boutport Street, and our Jack to be put to a day-school not -more than six miles away, and then I hope he know himself, and look -higher than that minx of a Tabby Badcock. What do you think, Miss -Clara, you would never believe it I know, but only a week ago last -Tuesday I come sudden round the corner, and catched her a kissing of our -Jack in the shed there by the shoot. And after all you taught her, -Miss! Jack he ran away, as red as mangawazzle, but that brazen slut, -there she stand with her legs out, as innocent as a picture. Never a -word I said, but with no more to do I put her head in the calves' -stommick as we makes the cheese with, in a bucket handy. It would have -done you good to see her Miss, she did cry so hard, and she smell of it -for a week, and it cure our Jack, up to Sunday anyhow. Mother come out -at the noise, but her see that she deserve it, and the runnet was no -account, except for the pigs, because it were gone by. I hope she know -her manners now and her spear in life with her sheep's eyes, and not -come trying to catch any of my family. - -Well, Miss Clara please, father want mother to go; but no, say she, -"with all they"--she ought to have said "them" Miss, now hadn't she -ought?--"with all they young pigs, and the brown cow expecting every -day, and Suke no head at all, and all the chillers and little -Clara"--she call her "Clara" now, Miss,--"why farmer what be thinking -of?" Then father rub the nose of him, you know the way he do it, Miss, -and he say, "I must have some one. London be such a wicked place." -Mother look up very sharp at that, and say quite peart, "take your -daughter, farmer Huxtable, if you wants to be kept respectable." So I -be to go Miss; and go I wouldn't without Jack and leave him along of -that sly cat Tabby, and her got sweet again now; besides I want him to -choose a knife I promised him, same as he saw to Coom one time, if he -wouldn't let Tabby kiss him with seven blades and a corkscrew, and I'll -give eighteen pence for it, that I will. And Beany Dawe must go to show -us the way about, and see as they doesn't cheat us, because his father -was once to London town, and told him a power about it. - -If you please, Miss Clara, father be put in training as they call it in -these parts, all the same as a horse. He run up and down Breakneck hill, -with the best bed on his back, nine times every day, and he don't drink -no cider, no nor beer, nor gin and water, and mother hardly know him, he -be come so clear in the skin; but he say his hand shake still from the -time I taught him to write, and please, Miss, what do you think of the -way he is going to sign this? I can't get him to put his thumb right, -no nor his middle finger, and he stick his elbow out every bit as bad as -Tabby, and he say he like the pot-hooks over the fire best, but for all -that I believe I shall make a scholard of him, particular when he give -up wrestling, which he have sworn to do if he throw this Cumberland -chap, and stick to his Bible and Prayer-book. - -Please, Miss, not to be offended, but excuse us asking if you like to -see the great wrestling. Father say no, it would not be fitty, and that -be the worst of being a gentlefolk; but mother say what harm, and she be -sure the farmer do it twice as well with you there, and you shall have -the best seat in the place next to the two judges, and such a pretty -handkerchief they sent down all spotted the same as a Guernsey cow, how -the people in church did stare at me, and you shall have two of the -best, Miss, but I am afraid it be making too bold; but you never see any -wrestling, Miss, and I am sure you would enjoy it so. It take place in -the copandhagen fields, next Saturday week. Do come, Miss Clara dear, -it will do you so much good, and you see father, and me, and Jack, and -Beany Dawe." - -I need recount no more of poor Sally's soft persuasions. The other -letter was of a different vein:-- - - -"HONOURED Miss,--Balak and me after a deal of trouble and labouring -night and day and throwing up our vacation has at last succeeded in -finding you knows who. Personal interview will oblige, earliest -inconvenience. No more at present not being safe on paper, from your -most obedient servants and suitors - -BALAAM AND BALAK--you knows who.-- - -Poscrip.--Balak says a sharp young lady quite sure to know what is -right, but for fear of accidents please a little of the ready will -oblige, large families both of us has and it do take a deal of beer more -than our proper vacation no one would guess unless they was to try and -bad beer too a deal of it. For self and partner.--BALAAM." - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - -When my Uncle saw that letter, he declared that he would go to London -with me. No power on earth should prevent him. Not even his -self-willed Clara. It was not revenge he wanted: even though it were for -his innocent brother, whose wrongs he could not pardon. No, if the -small-minded wretch who had spent his life in destroying a -fellow-creature's, if that contemptible miscreant lay at his feet -to-morrow, he would not plant foot upon him; but forgive him heartily, -if he had the grace to desire it. But for his children,--for them he -must go to London. Only let him see them once before he died. No -torpid limbs for him. Who said he was old--and he only forty-seven? - -One thing seemed rather strange to me. He longed, yearned I should say, -to look upon his little Lily even more than on the child he knew, his -son, his first-born Harry. "Why, Clara," he used to say, "she is nearly -as old as you, and you are a full-grown girl. On the 21st of this -month"--it was now July--"she will be eighteen; I can hardly believe it. -I wonder what she is like. Most likely she takes after her lovely -mother. No doubt of it, I should say. Don't you think so, Clara?" - -"Of course, Uncle," I would reply, knowing nothing at all about it, "of -course she does. How I should like to see her." - -Perhaps fifty times a day, he would ask for my opinion, and I would -deliver it firmly, perhaps in the very same words and without a shade of -misgiving; and though of no value whatever, it seemed to comfort him -every time. But the prolonged excitement, and the stress of imagination -exerted on Lily junior, told upon him rapidly in his worn and weak -condition. Longing for his company, assistance, and advice, I waited -from day to day, even at the risk of leaving Balaam and Balak without -good beer. All this time, my imagination was busy with weak surmises, -faint suspicions, and tangled recollections. - -At last, I could delay no longer. Tuesday was the latest day I could -consent to wait for, and on the Monday my Uncle was more nervous and -weak than ever. It was too plain that he must not attempt the journey, -and that the long suspense was impairing his feeble health. So for once -I showed some decision--which seemed to have failed me of late--without -telling him any more about it, I got everything ready, and appeared at -his bedroom door, only to say "Good bye." Annie Franks, who was going -with me, for a short visit to her father, hung back in some amazement, -doubting whether she had any right to be there, and dragged off her legs -by the coil of my strong will. My poor Uncle seemed quite taken aback; -but as it could not be helped, he speedily made up his mind to it. "The -carriage was at the door;" which announcement to English minds precludes -all further argument. - -"Good bye, Uncle dear," I cried, as cheerily as I could, "I shall be -back by the end of the week and bring your Lily with me. Give me a good -kiss for her, and now another for myself." - -He was sitting up in the bed, with a Cashmere dressing-gown on, and -poring over some relics of olden time. - -"Good bye, my darling, and don't be long away. They have robbed me -enough already." - -After giving Judy the strictest orders, I hurried off in fear and hope, -doubtful whether I ought to go. Annie lingered and gave him a kiss, for -she was very fond of him. He whispered something about me, which I did -not stop to hear, for I wanted to leave him in good spirits. - -After a rapid journey, I saw dear Annie safe in the arms of her father -and mother, and found Mrs. Shelfer at home, and in capital spirits, all -the birds, &c. well, and no distress in the house. Charley was doing -wonders, wonders, my good friend, sticking to his work, yes, yes, and -not inside the public house for the best part of the week. Leastways so -he said, and it would not do to contradict him. And she really did -believe there were only three bills over-due! - -My little rooms were snug and quiet, and the dust not more than half an -inch thick. Mrs. Shelfer used to say that dusting furniture was the -worst thing in the world to wear it out. According to her theory, the -dust excluded the air, especially from the joints, and prevented the -fly-blows coming. However, I made her come up and furbish, while I went -out to post a letter for Messrs. Balaam and Balak, requesting them to -visit me in the morning. - -When things were set to rights a little, and air, which Mrs. Shelfer -hated, flowed in from either balcony, I bought a fine crab and some -Sally Lunns, and begged for the pleasure of my landlady's company at -tea. This she gladly gave me, for the little woman loved nothing better -than sucking the hairy legs of a crab. But she was so overcome by the -rumours of my wealth, that she even feared to eject the pieces in her -ordinary manner, and the front rail of her chair was like the beam of a -balance. Infinitely rather would I be poor myself, than have people -ceremonious to me because I am not poor; and to tell the honest truth, I -believe there is a vein of very low blood in me, which blushes at the -sense of riches and position. Why should I have every luxury, that is -if I choose to have it, while men and women of a thousand times my mind, -and soul, and heart, spend their precious lives in earning the value of -their coffins? - -This thought has wearied many a mind of pure aerial flight, compared -whereto my weak departures are but the hops of a flea; so I lose the -imago, but catch the larva, upon the nettle, practice. Mrs. Shelfer is -soon at ease; and we talk of the price of cat's meat, and how dear -sausages are, and laugh--myself with sorrow--over the bygone days, when -dripping played the role of butter, and Judy would not take a bone -because he thought I wanted it. - -Then we talk over the news. Miss Idols had been there, bless her sweet -face, yes, ever so many times, to look for letters, or to hear tidings -of me. But she was not one bit like herself. She never teased the poor -little woman now; the poor little woman wished very much she would. Oh, -I should hardly know her. She did not know which bird it was that had -the wooden leg, and had forgotten the difference between a meal-worm and -a lob. And she did not care which way she rubbed the ears of the -marmoset. Mrs. Shelfer believed, but for the world it must not be told -again, that Isola was deeply in love, unrequited love, perhaps one of -the weteranarian gents. They did say they had some stuff as would lead -a girl like a horse. But whatever it was, Mrs. Shelfer only knew that -she could not get at the rights of it. Girls had grown so cunning -now-a-days, what with the great supernatural exhibition, and the hats -they had taken to wear flat on the tops of their heads, not at all what -they used to be when she and Charley were young. Then a young woman was -not afraid of showing what her neck was like; now she tucked it in -cotton wool like a canary's egg. And what were they the better, sly -minxes? She saw enough of it in the Square garden, and them showing -their little sisters' legs for patterns of their own, oh fie!" - -"Come, Mrs. Shelfer, no scandal, if you please. What news of your Uncle -John?" - -"Ah, Miss, you must ask the sharks, and the lobsters, and the big -sea-serpent. They do say, down at Wapping, that the ship was cast away -among the cannibal islands, and the people ate a policeman, and he upon -his promotion. What a pity, what a pity! And his coat four and -sixpence a yard, ready shrunk! But them natives is outrageous." - -"Nonsense, Patty, I don't believe a word of it. Sailors are dreadful -story-tellers, ever since the days of Sindbad. Has any one besides Miss -Isola, Mrs. Elton, or any one, been here to ask for me?" - -"No, Miss, Mr. Conrad never come after the day you served him so -dreadful; and Miss Idols say he went back and spoiled 300*l.* worth of -work; but that great lady with the red plush breeches, and the pink silk -stockings, and the baker's shop in their hair, she been here twice last -week, and left a letter for you. And Balaam been here several times, and -Balak along of him; but I banged the door on them both, now I hear they -be out of the business, and a nice young man set up who don't bother -about the gun." - -"Lady Cranberry's letter may lie there, and go back the next time Ann -Maples comes. But the bailiffs I must see. If they come to-morrow, let -them in immediately. And how are all my friends at the Mews?" - -Her reply would fill a chapter, so I will not enter upon it, but go to -bed and miss the sound of dear Judy's tail at the door. In the first -course of my dreams, Mr. Shelfer passed on his bedward road, having -politely taken his shoes off at the bottom of the stairs; in doing which -he made at least three times the noise his shodden feet would have -inflicted. - -In the morning I took my old walk round the Square, and then sat down -and tried to be patient until the bailiffs should come. Of course I did -not mean to go to my darling Isola, nor even to let her know that I was -so near at hand, although my heart was burning to see her sweet face -again. I even kept away from the window, though I wanted to watch for -the bailiffs, and strictly ordered Mrs. Shelfer not to tell her, if she -should call, a word about my being there. However, it was all in vain. -Mr. Shelfer went out after breakfast to his play-work in the Square, and -the smell of his pipe invaded my little room. I think he must have left -the front door open; at any rate I heard, all of a sudden, a quick -patter of running feet, and such a crying and sobbing, and Mrs. Shelfer -hurrying out to meet it. - -"You can't, Miss, you can't indeed--not for a thousand pounds. The -rooms are let, I tell you, and you can't go up. Oh dear, oh dear, -whatever am I to do?" - -"Patty, I _will_ go up. I don't care who's there. My heart is -breaking, and I _will_ die on my darling's bed. If you stand there, I'll -push you. Out of the way, I tell you." And up flew Idols, in a perfect -mess of tears. What could I do but fly to meet her, and hug my only pet? -What with her passion of grief, and sudden joy, at seeing me, she -fainted away in my arms. I got her somehow to the sofa, and kissed her -into her senses again. When she came to herself, and felt sure it was -not a dream, she nestled into my bosom, as if I had been her husband, -and stole long glances at me to see whether I was offended. Her pretty -cloak lay on the floor, and her hat beneath the table. For a long time -she sobbed and trembled so that she could not say a word, while I kept -on whispering such vain words as these: - -"Never mind, my pet. There, you have cried enough. Tell your own dear -Clara who has dared to vex you." - -To see that sweet child's misery, I felt in such a rage, I could have -boxed her enemy's ears. But I never thought that it was more than a -child's vexation. At last, after drinking a tumblerful of water, and -giving room to her palpitating heart, she contrived to tell me her -trouble. - -"Why, dear, you know my pappy--pappy I used to call him--he is not my -papa at all, he says himself he is not; and that is not the worst of it, -for I could do well enough without him, he is always so dreadfully -cross, and doesn't care for me one bit. I could do without him very -well, if I had a proper papa, or if my father was dead and had loved me -before he died; but now I have no father at all, and never had any in -the world; I am only an outcast, an abandoned-- Oh, Clara, will you -promise to forgive me, and love me all the same?" - -"To be sure I will, my dearest. I am sure, you have done no harm. And -even if you have been led astray--" - -She looked at me with quick pride flashing through her abasement, and -she took her arm off my shoulder. - -"No, you have quite mistaken me. Do you think I would sit here and kiss -you, if I were a wicked girl? But who am I to be indignant at anything -now? He told me--are you sure the door is shut?--he told me, with a -sneer, that I was a base-born child, and he used a worse word than -that." - -She fell away from me, her cheeks all crimson with shame, and her long -eyelashes drooping heavily on them. I caught her to my heart: poor -wronged one, was she a whit less pure? I seemed to love her the better, -for her great misfortune. Of course, I had guessed it long ago, from -what her brother told me. - -"And who is your father, my pretty? Any father must be a fool who would -not be proud of you." - -"Oh, Clara, the worst of it is that I have not the least idea. But from -something that hard man said, I believe he was an Englishman. I think I -could have got everything from him, he was so beside himself; but when -he told me that dreadful thing, and said that my father had lied to my -mother and ruined her, I felt so sick that I could not speak, till he -turned me out of the house, and struck me as I went." - -"What?" - -"Yes, he turned me out of the house, and gave me the blow of disgrace, -and said I should never look on his face again. He had won his -revenge--I cannot tell what he meant, for I never harmed him--and now I -might follow my mother, and take to--I can't repeat it, but it was worse -than death. No fear of my starving, he said, with this poor face of -mine. And so I was going to Conny, dear Conny; I think he knew it all -long ago, but could not bear to tell me. And I sat on some steps in a -lonely place, for I did not know how to walk, and I prayed to see you -and die: then old Cora came after me, and even she was crying, and she -gave me all her money, and a morsel of the true cross, and told me to -come here first, for Conny was out of town, and she would come to see me -at dark; and perhaps the Professor would take me back when his rage was -over. Do you think I would ever go? And after what he told me to do!" - -Such depth of loathing and scorn in those gentle violet eyes, and her -playful face for the moment so haughtily wild and implacable--Clara -Vaughan, in her stately rancour, seemed an iceberg by a volcano. - -I saw that it was the moment for learning all that she knew; and the -time for scruples was past. - -"Isola, tell me all you have heard, about this dastard bully?" - -"I know very little; he has taken good care of that. I only know that he -did most horrible things to unfortunate cats and dogs. It made me -shudder to touch him at one time. But he gave that up I believe. But -there is some dark and fearful mystery, which my brother has found out; -that is if he be my brother. How can I tell even that? Whatever the -discovery was, it made such a change in him, that he cared for nothing -afterwards, until he saw you, Clara. I am not very sharp, you know, -though I have learned so much, that perhaps you think I am." - -"My darling, I never thought such a thing for a moment." - -"Oh, I am very glad. At any rate I like to talk as if I was clever. -And some people say I am. But, clever or stupid, I am almost certain -that Conny found out only half the secret; and then on the day when he -came of age, that man told him the rest, either for his own purposes, or -holy Madonna knows why." - -"When was your brother of age?" - -"Last Christmas Eve. Don't you remember what I told you at the school -of design that day?" - -"And when is your birthday, Isola?" - -"I am sure I don't know, but somewhere about Midsummer. They never told -Conny when his was, but he knew it somehow. Come, he is clever now, -Clara, though you don't think I am. Isn't he now? Tell the truth." - -"I am thinking of far more important matters than your rude brother's -ability. Whence did you come to England and when?" - -This was quite a shot in the dark. But I had long suspected that they -were of Southern race. - -"I am sure I don't know. I was quite a child at the time, and the -subject has been interdicted; but I think we came from Italy, and at -least ten years ago." - -"And your brother speaks Italian more readily than English. Can you -tell me anything more?" - -"Nothing. Only I know that old Cora is a Corsican: she boasts of it -every night, when she comes to see me in bed, although she has been -forbidden. But what does she care--she asks--for this dirty little -English island? And she sits by my bed, and sings droning songs, which I -hardly understand; but she says they are beautiful nannas." - -How my heart was beating, at every simple sentence. None of this had I -heard before, because she durst not tell it. - -"Any other questions, Donna?" She was recovering her spirits, as girls -always do by talking. "Why, my darling, you ought to have a wig. You -beat all the senior sophists." - -"Yes. Now come and kiss me. Kiss me for a pledge that you will never -leave me. I am rich again now: you can't tell how rich I am, and -nothing to do with my money, and nobody likely to share it. If you were -my own sister, I could not love you more; and most likely I should not -love you a quarter as much. And my Uncle longs to see you so. You shall -come and live with me, and we'll be two old maids together. Now promise, -darling, promise. Kiss me, and seal the bargain." - -"Clara, I would rather be your servant than the queen of the world. -Only promise first that you will never scold me. I cannot bear being -scolded. I never used to be; and it will turn all my hair gray." - -"I will promise never to scold you, unless you run away." - -She swept back her beautiful hair, threw her arms round my neck, looked -in my eyes with a well-spring of love, and kissed me. Oh, traitorous -Clara, it was not the kiss--deeply as I loved her--but the evidence I -wanted. I knew that with her ardent nature she would breathe her soul -upon me. The exquisite fragrance of her breath was like the wind -stealing over violets. I had noticed it often before. My last weak -doubt was scattered; yet I played with her and myself, one sweet moment -longer. - -"Darling, what scent do you use? What is it you wash your teeth with?" - -"Nothing but water, Clara; what makes you ask in that way?" - -"And the perfume in your hair--what is it? Oh, you little Rimmel!" - -"Nothing at all, Donna. I never use anything scented. Not even Eau de -Cologne. I hate all the stuff they sell." - -"How very odd! Why, I could have declared that your lips and your hair -were sprinkled with extract of violets." - -"Oh, now I know what you mean. I never perceive it myself, but numbers -of people have fancied that I use artificial perfume. But that man--oh, -what shall I call him? And only this morning I called him 'pappy'--he -always accounts for everything, you know; and he said it was -hered--herod--I can't say it now, the long English word, but I could at -college--no matter, it means something in the family. My mother, he -said, was so well known to possess it, that she had an Italian name -among the servants for it; though her real name was quite a different -flower. Clara, why do you look at me so? And what are you crying for?" - -"Because, my own darling dear, I have not loved you for nothing. You -are my own flesh and blood. You are my own cousin, I tell you, my dear -Uncle's daughter; and your name is Lily Vaughan." - -She drew her arms from me, and leaped up from the sofa; she was so -amazed and frightened. She looked at me most sadly, believing that I -was mad; then she fainted again, and fell back into my arms. - -When I had brought her round, and propped her up with a pillow--for -cushions were very scarce--the strain of the mind being over, my brain -began to whirl so that I could neither think nor act. For a long time I -could not have enough of kissing and hugging Idols. I played with her -hair, as if I had been her lover; and then patted and caressed her, as -if she had been my baby. And had I no thought of another, who ought to -be doing all this to me? Yes, I fear that it lay in the depth of my -heart, stronger than maid's love of maiden, or even than my delight at -the joy coming to my Uncle. - -Then I hated myself for my selfishness, and caught up my Lily and rubbed -her, and made her understand things. I flung a decanter of water over -both her and myself, which saved us from hysterics. - -Poor little thing! She was not like me. Strong Passion was a stranger -to her, and she fell before his blow. I had fought with him so long, -that I met him like a prize-fighter, and countered at every stroke. Up -ran Mrs. Shelfer, in the height and crest of the wave, when backwards or -forwards, crying or laughing, hung on a puff of wind. She came with a -commonplace motive; she thought we were playing at cricket with her -beloved sticks. Her arrival made a diversion, though it had no other -effect, for I walked the little thing out, and locked the door behind -her. - -Then I got my darling new cousin into my arms, and kissed her, and -marched her about the room, and made her show her Vaughan instep. -Excuse the petty nonsense--what women are quite free from it?--but for -many generations our feet have been arched and pointed: of course it -does not matter; still I was glad that hers were of the true Vaughan -pattern. Then, as she so hated all the stuffs they sell, I showered -over her an entire bottle of the very best Eau de Cologne. It was a bit -of bullying; but all girls of high spirit are bullies. And it made her -eyes water so dreadfully, that she cried as hard as I did. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - -It must be owned that my evidence at present was very shadowy. Yet to -myself I seemed slow of hand for not having grasped it before. To the -mind there was nothing conclusive, to the heart all was irresistible. I -have not set down a quarter of the thoughts that now dawned upon me; and -it would be waste of time to recount them, when actual proof is -forthcoming. And poor Idols gave me small chance of thinking clearly, -in the turbulent flood of her questions. - -"And are you quite sure, quite certain, Clara darling, that I have a -lawful father, one who is not ashamed of me, and was not ashamed of my -mother! And why did he never come for me? And do you think he will -love me? And is dear Conrad my own brother? I don't seem to understand -half that you have told me." - -At length I knelt down, and thanked God--rather late in the day, I must -own--for His wonderful guidance to me. While doing so, and remembering, -as I always did then, my mother--revealed in sudden light I saw the -justice of God's Providence. Long as I had groped and groped, with red -revenge my leading star, no breath of love or mercy cheering the abrupt -steps of a fatalist, so long had He vouchsafed to send me check and -warning, more than guidance. By loss of wealth and dearest friends, by -blindness and desertion, and the crushing blow to maiden's pride when -her heart is flung back in her face, by sad hours of watching and -weeping over the bed of sickness, by the history of another's -wrongs--worse than my own, and yet forgiven--by all these means, and -perhaps no less by the growth of the mind, and wider views of life, the -spirit, once so indomitable, had learned to bow to its Maker. Stooping -thus it saw the path, which stiff-necked pride could not descry. - -Not first and sole, as it would have been two years since, but side by -side with softer thoughts, came the strong belief that now God had -revealed to me the man who slew my father. And what humiliation to all -my boasted destiny! I had grasped the hand that did the deed, smiled to -the eyes that glared upon it, laughed at the sallies of the mind that -shaped it. Enough of this; ere it go too hard with Christian feeling. -My bosom heaves, my throat swells, and my eyes flash as of old. - -Before I had time to resolve what next to do (for Isola would not let me -think), we had another interruption. That girl had a most ill-regulated -and illogical mind. And the fault was fundamental. If the lovely -senior sophist had ever got her degree, and worn the gown of a Maiden of -Arts, it could only have come by favour, after the manner of kissing. -Her enthymems were quick enough, and a great deal too quick I believe; -but as for their reduction or eduction into syllogisms--we might as well -expect her to make a telescope out of her boot-tags. And now at once -she expected, and would not give me room for a word, that I should -minutely detail in two sentences, with marginal annotations, and -footnotes, queries, conjectures, and various readings, all incorporated -into the text, everything that had ever, anywhere, or by any means, -befallen her "genuine father." Not being Thucydidean enough to omit the -key-word in the sentence, and mash ten thoughts into one verb, I could -not meet the emergency; and my dear cousin lost her patience, which was -always a very small parcel. - -"At any rate, Clara, tell me one thing clearly. Are you quite certain -that Conny and I are not--not--" - -"Not base-born," I said--why be mawkish in Oscan-English, when Saxon is -to be had?--"No, my darling, you are as lawful as I, your cousin Clara. -We Vaughans are a passionate race, but we never make wrecks of women, -and scoundrels of ourselves. That we leave for Corsicans, and people -brought up to lies." - -The sneer was most unjust, and dreadfully unkind, but far too natural -for me, so long pent in, to resist it. I saw that I had grieved my pet, -so I begged her pardon, and reviled myself, till all was right again. -Then suddenly she leaped up and cried, with her hand upon her bounding -heart--every look and gesture must have been like her mother's. - -"Let me go now, Clara. What am I thinking of? Let me start at once. -And you say my own father is very ill. He will die without seeing me. -On with your things, while I run to the cab-stand. I have money enough -for both." - -She wrenched at the door-handle in her hurry, forgetting that I had -locked it; rich colour leaped into her cheeks, and her features and form -seemed to dance, like a flickering flame, with excitement. No wonder -her mother had loved, and been loved, with such power of passion. - -"Idols, take it easily, or I won't let you go at all. I rather fancy, -we must have some evidence, before my Uncle owns a little chit picked up -in London. He is a clever and cautious man, and will expect something -more convincing than your beautiful eyes and sweet breath. Do you -expect, you impetuous jumper, that he will know you by instinct?" - -Poor little thing, how her face fell, and how the roses faded out of it! -That look of hers went to my heart; but I knew what the mother had died -of, and feared lest her image and picture should perish in the same -manner. So I said again: - -"Did you suppose, my dear, that your father would know you by instinct?" - -"Well, perhaps I did, Clara; if I thought about it at all. I am sure I -should know him so." - -At this moment, two heavy knocks, like a postman's, but not so quick, -sounded through the house. I knew what they meant, one was Balaam, the -other was Balak. Isola clung to me, and turned pale; she thought it was -some one pursuing her. I told her hastily whom I expected, and sent her -to Mrs. Shelfer's room. My heart beat high, when with many a scrape and -bow, the worthy but not ornamental pair sidled heavily into the room. - -To my greetings they answered me never a word; but Balaam stood solemnly -at the end of the little table, and beckoned to his partner to fasten -the door. This being done with some pantomime, which meant "By your -leave, if you please, Miss," the two men, who looked none the leaner for -their arduous exertions, stood side by side before me. Tired of this -nonsense I exclaimed impatiently, - -"Be quick, if you please; what is it you have found out?" - -Balaam winked at Balak, and receiving a ponderous nod, began to digest -it leisurely. - -"Have you brought me to London for nothing? What do you mean by all this -mummery? I shall ring the bell in a moment, and have you both shown -out." - -Balaam's tongue revolved in his mouth, but burst not the bonds of -speech, and he tried to look straight at both windows,--till my hand was -on the bell-pull. - -"Balak, I told you so. Lor, how much better it be for you to take my -advice, than for me to take yourn! Balak said, Miss, as we come along, -the young lady would be sure to know what was right, and turn up -handsome afore she asked us nothing. Now, says I, that ain't the -carakter of my experience, the women most always wants--" - -"Here, quick, how much do you want, before I know what you have to -tell?" - -Here a long interchange of signals took place, and even whispering -behind a hat. - -"Well, Miss, I say ten, and that quite enough till you has time to -judge. But Balak say nothing under twenty, considering all the beer, -and some of it country brewers'--" - -"Your advice is better than Balak's; I agree with you on that point; and -I will take it in preference. Here are ten pounds." He looked rather -taken aback, but could not well get out of it. Balak smiled grimly at -him. - -"If what you tell me proves really valuable, I will give you a cheque -for another ninety ere long, and the residue hereafter: but not another -farthing, if you keep me in this suspense. Do I look likely to cheat -people of your class?" - -"No, Miss, we hopes not; nor of any other class, I dare say. Still -there be so many rogues in the world--" - -"You have taken my money; speak on." - -What they told me at wearisome length, and with puzzling divergence, and -quantities of self-praise, need not occupy many lines. They had traced -the Jelly-corses, as they called Della Croce, from Somers Town to Lisson -Grove, where they stayed but a very short time, Lepardo Della Croce, -under some fictitious name, giving lessons in French, Spanish, and -Italian, at schools in Portland Town and St. John's Wood. But he only -seemed to play with his work, though he never broke any engagement to -which he really pledged himself. He was always reserved and silent, -accepted no invitations, and gathered his real subsistence by night at -chess-clubs and billiard-rooms, where his skill was unequalled. His -only friends were Italian refugees, his only diversion the vivisection -of animals. It must have been about this time that he saw the newspaper -paragraph, and did what he did to me. Then he changed his name again, -and lived awhile in Kensington; he had been in London years before, and -seemed to know it well. Here a nobleman, whom he had taught some new -device at billiards, took him up and introduced him to a higher class of -pupils, and obtained him some back-door palace appointment. He dubbed -himself "Professor," and started as Dr. Ross. But still he missed the -excitement and change of his once adventurous life, and several times he -broke loose, and left his household, for weeks and months together. -Then the two lovely children, whom all admired but none were allowed to -notice, were attended wherever they went, by a dark-browed Italian -woman. Suddenly they all left Kensington, and went to live at Ball's -Pond; the reason being some threatened exposure of the Professor's -cat-skinning propensities. His love of vivisection had become the -master-passion, and he would gratify it at all hazards. There is to -some natures a strange fascination in the horrible cruelties perpetrated -under the name of science. Through its influence he even relaxed his -strict reserve a little, and formed the acquaintance of a gentleman -connected with the college at Camden Town; to which suburb after a while -he removed, because he found it impossible to pursue his inhuman -researches under his own roof comfortably. Here, by means of his new -ally, who could not help admiring his infinitely superior skill, he was -appointed lecturer at several schools for young ladies, where -smatterings of science were dealt in. And now he was highly respected -by people who did not know him, and idolised by young ladies too clever -to care for pet parsons. Of course he became conceited; for his nature -was but a shallow one, and his cunning, though sharp and poisonous, had -no solid barb at the end. So he sneered, and grimaced, and sniggered, -and before an ignorant audience made learned men stammer and stutter, -amazed at his bold assumptions, and too honest and large of mind to -suspect them, at short notice. - -But the skill of his hands was genuine, and his power of sight most -wonderful. I have since been told--though I do not believe it -possible--that he once withdrew and bottled nearly half the lungs of a -dog, tubercular after distemper, while the poor sufferer still gasped -on, and tried to lick his face. Oh that I were a man! How can I hear -such things and not swear? All animals, except one, hated him by -instinct. The only one, not sagacious enough to know him, was his -fellow-man. Men, or at any rate women, thought him a handsome, lively, -playful, and brilliant being. And yet, upon the honour of a lady I -declare--let those who know nothing of honour despise it as an -after-thought--that when he first entered my room, in his graceful and -elegant way, there ran through me such a shudder as first turns the -leaves towards autumn, such a chill of the spinal marrow as makes the -aura of epilepsy. - -Darling Judy hated him from every bristle of his body, not only through -instinct, but for certain excellent reasons. The monster's most -intimate friend was a gallant Polish patriot, who had sacrificed all for -his country, and lived here in dignified poverty. This gentleman and -his wife could only afford one luxury; and that, by denying themselves -many a little comfort. They had the finest dog in London, one who had -saved his master's life from the squat-nosed sons of the Czar. This -glorious fellow, of Maltese family, was the father of my Giudice--whom -in his puppy days the Polish exile gave to Conrad and pretty girl Isola. -Slowski, now an ancient dog, had a wen behind his shoulder, which grew -and grew until the Professor could scarcely keep his hands from it. But -he knew that any operation, in so severe a case, was nearly sure to kill -a dog so old and weather-beaten. The owner too knew this, and would not -have it meddled with. Lepardo Della Croce swore at last that he would -taste no food until he had traced the roots of that wen. Judy, then a -pretty pup, gambolled into the room and saw his poor papa--but I will -not describe what a dog cannot even bear to think of. Poor Slowski died -that night, and the Pole knocked down the surviving brute, who shot him -next day upon Hampstead Heath. However, the gentleman slowly recovered; -but during his illness the frenzied wife overstepped the bounds of -honour--according to their ideas; she took advantage of Cora, in the -absence of Lepardo, and learned some of his previous crimes, by -practising on the poor woman's superstition. Then she found, through the -firm of Green, Vowler, and Green, that my Uncle was still alive, traced -out the history of the atrocious deed, and wrote the letter which had -brought me to London. Soon afterwards, when her husband recovered, she -was sorry for what she had done, and opened her lips on the subject no -more; at least in this country, which they soon forsook for America. - -In this brief epitome, I have told, for the purpose of saving trouble, a -great deal more than I learned at the time, a great deal more than -Balaam and Balak would have found out in a twelvemonth. But it makes no -difference: for my conclusions and actions were just the same as they -would have been, if I had known all the above. "And so you see, -Miss"--was Balaam's peroration--"we have had a downy cove to deal with, -for all his furious temper. Lor now, I never believe any Bobby would -have discovered him; but we has ways, Miss, what with the carpets and -the sofys, and always knowing the best pump at the bar, gentlemen of our -profession has ways that no Peeler would ever dream of. And now, Miss, -the ink is on the table, and both of us wishes you joy--didn't you say -so, Balak?--if you only think we has earned that cheque for 90*l.*, and -the rest, please God, when the gentleman feel Jack Ketch." - -"You shall have the money soon, if not now. For I believe you have -deserved it. But I must trouble you first to write down briefly what -you have told me, and to sign it in full. It is not for myself. I -remember every word. It is for the satisfaction of a gentleman who -cannot see you." - -Balaam and Balak looked very blank, and declared it would take them a -week to write out half they had told me. This objection I soon removed, -by offering to make an abstract of it, which I could do from memory, and -then let them read and sign it. By this time they were both afflicted -with thirst, which I sent them away to quench, while I drew up a rough -deposition. But first I called darling Idols, and told her that now I -had evidence which would satisfy even a sceptical father. - -"And surely, my pet, you yourself must have something; some relic, or -token, to help us." - -"No, cousin Clara, I can't think of anything, except this little charm, -which has been round my neck for years, and which I have shown you -before: but I fear it is not uncommon. He took it away from me once, -but I managed to steal it back again." - -The charm was a piece of chalcedony, ground into some resemblance which -I could not recognise then, and very highly polished. She said it had -been her brother Conrad's, and he had given it to her; hearing which I -ceased to examine it. - -Presently the bailiffs returned, in very high spirits indeed, and ready -to sign almost anything. But I took good care to inform them that, -however hard they had laboured, I had made the discovery before them; -which they said was permiscuous, and not to be thought nothing of. All -the forms being quickly despatched, I found a few minutes to think what -was next to be done. - -It is too late in my journey for dalliance and embarrassment with the -heavy luggage of motives, and the bandboxes of reflections, when we are -past the last station, and flying to our terminus: enough that I -resolved to take poor little Isola home at once to the house at Vaughan -St. Mary, and the arms of her longing father, that he might see her -before he died. I hoped he might live for years, but I feared he might -die to-morrow; so hangs over every one's mind that fatal third stroke of -paralysis. Her own entreaties and coaxing told much upon my resolution; -if none could resist her when happy, who could withstand her distress? -So Balaam and Balak were ordered most strictly to watch that demon's -abode, and at any risk give him in charge if he made attempt at -departure. To ensure due vigilance, I reclaimed the 90*l.* cheque, and -gave one payable three days afterwards. They grumbled and did not like -it; but in the course of all my rough usage, I had learned one great -maxim--Never trust, beyond the length of a cork, any man who is slave to -the bottle. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - -Eager as Isola was to see her true father at last, she pressed me -strongly to call at her brother's lodgings on our way to Paddington, and -take him with us if possible; or at any rate learn where he was, and how -long he would be absent. But I refused to do anything of the kind. -Though not half so proud as of old, I could not quite stoop to that. -"You know, dear," she continued, "Conny will think it unfair of me to -get such a start of him with the real good Papa; and it would be so much -nicer to have him there to help. And I am terribly frightened, though -of course you can't understand it." - -"Isola, no more nonsense. For your sake, and my poor Uncle's, I would -do anything honest and proper: but neither can I travel with your -brother Conrad, nor can I go near his lodgings. I am not quite reduced -to that, however I am trampled on." - -"But, darling, they need not see you. And you know he has made some -wonderful mistake." - -Of course I knew it, and told myself so fifty times in a minute; but it -was a likely thing that I would tell his sister so. - -"He has, indeed, a very grave mistake, if he ever thinks I will forgive -him. No mistake ever made by man can be pleaded for what he has done. -Even if he believed, by some excess of absurdity, that my father had -murdered his, instead of his murdering mine (which was much nearer the -mark), would even that justify his rudeness, low rudeness, and personal -violence to a lady? What he did I never told you; and he, I should hope, -was too much ashamed to speak of it: why he actually pushed me; thrust -me, Clara Vaughan, away from him, till I almost fell on the floor!" - -"Oh, Donna, how your eyes flash! And you call me excitable! Let me put -your hair back. There now, give me a kiss. I am so sorry for Conny. -He loves you with all his heart, and you look as if you could kill him. -But no doubt the new good papa will put every thing to rights." - -"Will he indeed? Let us go and see." - -We got to Paddington just in time to catch the two o'clock train, having -telegraphed first to my Uncle that I was coming to take his advice, -before doing anything more. This was true, so far as it went, and as -much of the truth as I then dared to administer. This message was sent, -not for the sake of finding the carriage at Gloucester, but in order to -break the suddenness of our arrival. Through all my joy I dreaded what -was to come, and knew not how to manage it. Idols talked fast enough -all the way down the line. As yet she had seen scarcely anything of our -quiet, rich English scenery; and although the Great Western exhibits it -rather flatly, some parts there are, below Swindon, which fill the mind -with content. But our minds could not be so filled, being full of -excitement already. Near Stroud poor Idols was in the greatest ecstasy, -and expected me to know the owner of every pretty meadow. - -But after we entered my Uncle's carriage--or mine, I suppose, it should -now be called--dear Isola fell away into the deepest silence. She -stored her wonder inwardly, nor showed the sweet depths of her eyes, -until she sprang out at the foot of the old stone steps, trodden by so -many hundreds of her ancestors. Then she looked up at the long gray -house, with the dusk of July around it, and bats of three varieties -flitting about the gables; and I saw beneath her dark eye-lashes the -tremulous light of a tear. - -After leading my sweet new cousin--whom everybody stared at, and who -feared to look at the pavement--to my own snug quarters, I left her -there under kind Mrs. Fletcher's charge, and ran to my Uncle's favourite -room. Already my breath was short, and my heart up and down with -excitement, and I had but the presence of mind to know that I was sure -to make a mistake of it. I saw a great change in him, even since the -Monday; but he was the first to speak. - -"My dear child, kiss me again. You are nearly as tall as I am, since my -upright ways have departed. From the moment you went away, I have done -nothing but miss you, every hour and every minute; and last night I -slept never a single wink. Let us give it up, my darling. God has sent -you to me to make up for both daughter and son." - -"Well, Uncle, that's all very fine, but I doubt it strongly." I was -forced to be flippant a little, for fear of breaking down. "It is my -firm belief that proud Clara will still have to wash at the pump." - -He knew what I meant; it was an old tale, in our neighbourhood, of a -nobleman's second wife who would not allow her step-children even the -use of a yellow basin. - -"What! do you mean to say"--and he began to tremble exceedingly--"that -you have found any trace, any clue even, to my poor darlings?" - -"Yes, thank God, I have. Oh, Uncle, I am so glad!" And I threw myself -into his arms: his head fell heavily on my shoulder, and I felt that I -had been too sudden. He could not speak, but fetched one long sob. I -parted his white hair, and looked at him as if in surprise at his -hastiness. - -"Dear Uncle, we must not be certain yet. I mean that I have found -something, or fancy I have found something, which--which--I mean if -properly followed up--may lead in time--but you know how sanguine I am." - -"Clara, you are playing with me. It is a mistake to do so. I cannot -bear it, child. But the sudden shock I can bear. Let me know all at -once. Are they alive or dead?" - -"Alive, I think, dear Uncle; and I hope to find them soon, if you will -calmly advise me." - -"You have found them. No more fencing. I know it by your eyes. All -the truth this moment, unless you wish to kill me." - -He stood up as if to seize me, for I had withdrawn from his grasp, but -his poor legs would not carry him; so I was obliged to seize him -instead. He fell sideways on a chair, and vainly tried to speak; but -his eyes never faltered from mine. - -"Dearest Uncle, I tell you the truth. Of course I cannot be certain -yet, and it won't do to make a mistake; and so I want more evidence." - -"I want no more. Only let me see them." He spoke very slowly, and the -muscles of his face twitched at every word. - -"Now, keep your mind calm and clear, to help me, my dear Uncle; for I -know not what to do. Have you anything, any tokens at all, of their -beloved mother?" - -My object was to divert his mind, for I saw the approach of coma, and -now trembled more than he did. - -With a feeble smile at the folly of my question, after such a love as -his, he answered in great exhaustion, - -"Take the key from my neck. You know the large black box in--in--" - -Here his chin fell on his breast, and he could not lift the key, but his -eyes still shone with intelligence, and followed me everywhere. Ribbon -and all I took the key, and rang the bell for Jane, the most careful and -kind of nurses. I ordered her, in a whisper, to give my Uncle a glass -of very strong brandy and water, if she could get him to swallow it; and -away I ran upstairs, hoping to relieve him. Then suddenly it struck me -that I had no right to open that box, without the presence of a -competent witness. I knew at once what box it was, from the constant -anxiety my poor Uncle had shown about it. Who had such right to be my -witness as his darling daughter? So back I flew to my own rooms, and -dragged the bewildered Isola down the broad corridor. The poor little -thing was frightened so that she could hardly breathe. I had no -especial object in opening that old box, at that particular moment, much -as I had often longed to know what its contents were. My presence of -mind was lost, and all I could think of was, that I might find something -there to break that awful suspension of life, so likely to end in death. - -The box was in a panelled closet by the head of my Uncle's bed. When I -handed Idols the light to hold, she took it as if in a dream; her cheeks -were as white and transparent as the wax, and she held the candle so -that a hot flake splashed on my neck. The lock of the long box turned -most easily, and the hinges moved without creaking: most likely it had -been pored over every day, for many years. The lid was arched and -hollow, with straps of faded web inside it. - -In beautiful order, so fair that I hardly dared to touch them, lay the -clothes and trinkets, the letters and little relics, the gloves and -pocket-handkerchiefs, the fairy slippers, the wedding-dress, the -coquettish veil, and saucy hat of the dead. I am not over sensitive, -thank God, or I should not be living now; but the sight of those things -upset me more than any distress of my own. The small parcels of silver -paper, screwed at the end and pinned in the middle, the pins put -stupidly as men always put them, the light gay dresses made for some -sweet figure, folded with such care, and yet quite out of the plaits, -and labelled with the dates when last the dear one wore them, even a -withered fern-wreath and a sprig of shrivelled myrtle--I could not -thrust my commonplace hands into these holy treasures; if I could I -should never deserve to be myself so remembered. But one thing struck -me, as thoughts profane always strike us crookedly; if the poor lady -could have been wept to life again, how much better would she have found -all her things arranged, than she had ever kept them! That is to say if -she resembled her wondering and crying daughter, who knelt down and -wanted to kiss every article in the box. Her little white hands were as -busy as mice among them; and long-drawn sobs were tumbled with -interjections. - -"Now, my dearest Idols, you must not disturb these things. Your father -will be so vexed." - -Would he though?--said I to myself--not if he knew whose hand it was -that did it. She paid no attention to me. - -"Now just put back that silver knife, with the bit of peach-skin upon -it: and leave the stone as it was." - -To my surprise she began to suck the stone, which her mother perhaps had -sucked, eighteen years ago. Inside the paper was written, "Knife and -peach-stone found in my Lily's pocket. The stone was meant for me to -set. I will plant it, when I have found her children. E.V., January, -1834." - -"Now, you foolish child, you are really too bad." And with that I gave -her a little push. In her heedless way, she fell almost into the box, -and her light form lay amongst her mother's dresses. A sudden thought -flashed across me. - -"Isola, off with that nasty dark frock!" - -"Nasty, indeed, Clara! Why you said this morning how very pretty it -was." - -"What has that to do with it? Pull it off, or I'll tear it. Now, out -with the other arm." - -In a moment or two, I had all her beauty gleaming in white before me; -and carefully taking from the box a frock of pale blue silk, I lifted it -over her head, and drew her dimpled arms through the sleeves; then I -fixed it in front with the turquoise buttons, and buckled the slender -zone. Her blue eyes looked on in amazement, like violets at a -snow-storm. Then I led her to the mirror, and proud as we both had -always been of her beauty, the same thought struck us now. I saw it in -the mirror, by the toss of her pointed chin and the coy bend of her -neck: she saw it there as clearly, by the flash of my tear-bright eyes. -Neither of us had ever seen that loveliest of all girls look half so -lovely before. The glow of pride and beauty's glory mantled in her -cheeks; and her eyes were softly beaming down the avenue of lashes, from -clearest depths of azure. I never saw such eyes as she had, among all -our English beauties. Some perhaps are as fine of colour, and as -liquid, though not so lustrous: but the exquisite arch of the upper lid, -and the rich short fringe of the lower, cast a tremulous light and -shade, which dull Anglo-Saxons feel not. Like moonbeams playing through -a mantled bridge. - -The dress fitted her exactly. It had been made for a slender, buoyant -figure, as graceful and pure as a snow-wreath, yet full of warm motion -and richness. Indeed, I must confess, that, although correct enough for -the time and clime of the owner, it showed too much of the lifting snow -for our conceptions of maidenhood: so I drew a gauzy scarf--perhaps a -true _fazoletto_--over the velvet slope of the shoulders, and imprisoned -it in the valley. This being nicely arranged, I hung her chalcedony -charm from her neck, and fastened it to her waist-band. Then I caught -up her clustering hair, nearly as thick and long as my own, after the -Corsican fashion, snooded it close in ripples with a pink and -white-striped mandile, and told her to love herself in the glass, while -I ran off to the hot-house for a truss of Stephanotis. This, with a -glossy sprig of Gardenia leaves to back it, I fastened cleverly into the -clear mandile, on the curve of her elegant head, and my darling was -complete. Then I kissed her sweet lips, and admired her, more than she -admired herself. - -"Clara, it does not matter how much trouble you take; you can't make me -look a quarter so well as you do." - -"Not quite so tall, my darling, nor anything like so naughty; but a -thousand times more lovely." - -"Well, I wish I could think so. I am always longing to change with -you." - -"Don't talk nonsense, my pretty; if I were a man I should die for you. -Now I glory in you as a Vaughan. Come along." - -I led her through the gallery and to the door of her father's room, -before she had time to think. She did not know but what I was taking -her back to my own rooms, along another passage. At the sick man's door -I left her, while I went in to see how much might be safely ventured. - -My Uncle was leaning back in his deep reclining chair, with his weak -eyes fixed most eagerly on the door. In vain he strove to hide his -disappointment, and to look at me with gratitude. The wandering mind -too plainly hoped for something dearer than a brother's child. - -Dismissing Jane through the other room, that she might not encounter -Isola, I sat down to examine him. The brandy and water had rallied his -vital power, but made him hot and feverish. He kissed my hand to atone -for some sharp and impatient expressions, and I saw that the moment was -favourable. - -"Uncle dear, what will you say to me? I have brought you another new -visitor, the loveliest girl in London. You know her well by name. You -have often longed to see my sweet darling Isola. And she wants to see -you so much. Only you must promise me one thing honourably. Be gay and -sprightly with her; she is timid in this old house." - -"My dear, I can't see her to-night. You don't mean that of course. -Give her my best apologies. You say she is very sweet-tempered; I am -sure she will excuse me." - -"If she would, I will not. Nor would you excuse her, if you knew whom -she resembles." - -"What do you mean? Have you locked my box again?" - -"Yes, and here is the key. I found a portrait of a lady"--I had not -shown this to my cousin--"very like beautiful Isola." - -He began to tremble again, so I thought the quicker the better. Placing -the lamp-shade so that a dim light fell on the door, I ran out to fetch -his daughter. - -"Now, don't be a baby, Isola. Remember how ill he is. Keep as much in -the shadow as possible; and if he should guess who you are, pretend not -to care a bit for him." - -"I will try my very best, Clara. But I don't think I can do that." - -She shook so much that I was obliged to support her, as she had -supported me that evening when first we met. Stiffly I brought her in, -and began to introduce her, holding her back all the time. - -"Uncle Edgar, this is my dearest friend, of whom you have heard so -often, Miss Isola"--Ross I could not say. "Why, Uncle--why, Idols, -darling--" - -It was all in vain; I might as well have spared my devices. From the -moment she crossed the threshold, his eyes had been leaping towards her. -The paralysed man bounded forward, as if with galvanic life. His -daughter met him as wildly. "My Lily, my Lily," was all he could sob, -"my own Lily come from the grave!" With a father's strength he clasped -her, and her dark locks were showered with silver. As for tears--but I -left them together when I had seen both safe on the sofa. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - -To our surprise and delight, the genuine Papa, instead of being worse -the next day, looked more like himself than he had done at any time -since the fever. But in spite of added importance, and the sense of -parental dignity, he sat hand in hand with his beautiful daughter by the -hour together, playing with her cheeks and hair, as little girls do with -dollies. And all the time he was talking to her about her darling -mother, and made her answer him in Italian, and made her kiss him every -other minute; and found out a thousand times, as a novelty every time, -that she was the very image and model of her mother, and yet he was not -sure that her smile was quite so sweet; then to make up for depreciation -he needs must kiss her again, and say, yes, he thought it was, though it -was quite impossible for any other to be so--and thus they went on, till -I thought there never would be an end of it; albeit I did my utmost to -keep away from them both. - -Knowing that I was in their way, and feeling rather out of spirits, I -went my old accustomed round of places, sacred in my memory to a certain -father and mother of my own. How long I wept at their simple graves, -how I knelt to their God and mine, thanking Him from my desolate heart -for the light now shed upon me, and how I prayed that they might both be -looking down on me now and craving heavenly guidance for me through the -peril yet to come--these, and the rest of my doings there, cannot well -be told except to the ears of orphans. The clouds of an overcast -existence seemed to be opening rapidly, and though they could never -disclose my sun and moon again, some happiness it was to know even how -those had set. And more than all, the foul aspersion upon my father's -memory, which all the while I scorned it so, had lain heavily on my -thoughts, this was now proved liar's spittle, and my sweet darling -father had offended not even a villain. A thousand times I implored his -pardon for the splash having ever descended upon the hem of my garment, -though shaken off straight-way with loathing. - -In the midst of my dreamy thoughts, and while I sat between the two low -headstones, upon the very spot where I hope my own head may lie, the -tremulous beauty of the Golden Thuja, which I had planted there, was -pushed aside too carelessly, and something far more beautiful planted -itself in front. It was my cousin Lily. I have been strictly forbidden -ever to call her "Isola," or even "Idols," again, as savouring of the -evil one. Lily Vaughan was beaming with young delight and happiness: the -fresh west country air, sweet from the tropic gulf-stream, had crowned -the April of her cheeks with a June of roses. - -"Oh, Donna, I am so glad I have found you at last. What makes you run -away from me and my Papa? I have lost my way all over the world. What -a lovely world it is, Donna!" - -"Don't call me that name here. Do you not see where you stand?" - -She glanced at the headstones engraved with initials and dates, and at -once understood it all. For a long time she was silent, a long time I -mean for her; and her soft eyes glistened at once with awe and pity. At -last, she crept close to me, looked at the ground, and whispered with a -deep sigh: - -"How you must hate me, Clara." - -"Hate you, my darling! What for?" - -"Oh, because I have got such a dear Papa, and you have none at all. And -much worse than that, because--because--oh, I don't know how to tell -you." - -"Tell me all you mean. Let there be no misunderstanding between us." - -"Because my mother and my father seem somehow to have killed--though I -am sure they would rather have killed themselves--your poor papa and -mamma." And she leaned on my mother's headstone, and sobbed till I -feared for her heart. - -I put my arm around her waist, drew her towards me, and sat on my -father's grave, with his niece upon my lap. - -"Dearest, I could not be the child of those who sleep beneath us, if it -were in my nature now to feel as you imagine. Years ago, I might have -done so; though I hope not even then. Orphan as I am and helpless, -already I perceive that I have not lived for nothing. My father, I -believe, my mother, I am sure, would have laid down life with pleasure -to see me led from wayward childhood even to what I am. Oh, Lily, you -can't think how they loved me." And at the tender memory, came tears, -the voice of silence. - -Lily said not a word, but gathered and plaited a wreath of flowers, -wherewith, as in a nuptial tie, she bound the white headstones -together--anything so as not to disturb me just then. Even that trifle, -a graceful idea born of her Southern origin, even that for the moment -touched me deeply. Times there are when our souls seem to have taken -hot baths in the springs of memory, and every pore of them is open. - -"Darling Lily, come--how proud they would have been of you--come and -kiss me in this presence, and promise that, whatever happens, none shall -ever thrust cold hands between your heart and mine. That we will bear, -and trust, and love; nor, if a shadow steals between us, blink it till -the substance follows, but be frank and open--the very breath of -friendship--and when doubt begins to grow, for the devil is sure to sow -it, have it plucked away at once, each by the other's hand. Kiss me, -dear; your weakness is that you are not so outspoken as I am. Never let -me vex you, without knowing it." - -The innocent creature kissed me, and promised solemnly. - -"Oh, Clara," she cried, "how on earth did you find it out? Sometimes -you have vexed me dreadfully, for you don't care much what you say; but -I always thought it was my fault, and I never told you of it. But it -never made me love you a single bit the less." - -"Yes, it did for the moment, though you may soon have forgiven it. But -a love which is always undergoing forgiveness, is like glass steeped in -water, you may cut it in two with a pair of common scissors." - -"Well, I should like to see the scissors that would cut me away from -you. I'll have a great piece off your hair, Clara, if you talk such -nonsense. Now come; my father wants you." - -"Have you told him?" - -"Yes, everything about dear Conny and you; and he says you are a noble -girl, but uncommonly thick-headed about your own concerns, though as -quick as lightning for others. Now, I won't have you look so pale; let -us run and get some colour. See, I'll get first to that tree." - -"Will you indeed?" I won the race by a yard, and was glad that the -exercise made excuse for the quick rise of my bosom. After all that had -happened, I would not have her imagine that I still cared for her -brother. Like a girl all over, she said not another word, determined -that I should begin it. - -"Let us walk faster, Lily, if my Uncle wishes to see me." - -"No, there is plenty of time. It will do him good to sleep a little." - -"Oh, then it is nothing important. I rather feared that it might be." - -"Don't be at all afraid, darling. He wants to show you how nicely he -made the Chalcedony Spalla that used to be round my neck. He made it -for my mother, in remembrance of something." - -"Oh, nothing more than that. I thought you spoke of something--at least -you seemed to imply--" - -"Nothing that you need blush about, nor stammer either, proud Donna. -You know you proved to me yesterday, when we were in the cab, that you -did not care for Conny any more than you did for a flake of London soot, -which happened to come in at the window, and fall upon your glove. And -you were kind enough to compare him to that individual smut." - -"Oh, Judy, Judy," I cried, as the dog came bounding to meet us--"darling -Judy, you love Clara, if nobody else has sense enough." - -And half an hour ago, Lily and I in dramatic language, vowed eternal -affection! - -"Oh, Clara, darling Clara, don't you know that I was in fun? I thought -you were so clever. And now to see you sobbing over that great muff of -a dog! Judy, I hate you, get out of the way"--the judicious would not -stir--"take your great hulking paws from cousin Clara's neck. There -then, make the most of that! Oh, I have hurt my hand so, and he is only -wagging his tail. But I am so delighted, my own pet, that you love poor -Conny still." - -"And pray, who said I did?" - -"Nobody, only me. All dear Papa said was this, that there was a great -mistake, and he soon perceived what it was; and I asked him to take my -opinion about it, because I was a senior sophist. And he pretended not -to know what a senior sophist was. And I told him it was my degree, not -from that man, you know, but fairly earned at the College; though they -did have the impudence to say that the Professors were going to pluck -me, until I gave them a smile." - -"True enough, no doubt. But I know all that long ago. What more did my -Uncle say?" - -"That he would tell you his opinion, but he would rather not talk about -it to me. And he could not bear me to go out, for fear I should be -stolen again. And I do believe he has had me watched all the way. Here -I come, Pappy; large as life you see, and three times as natural." - -"Yes, my own treasure, three times as natural to me, as my life has been -without you. But wheel me indoors, young maidens. No other man in the -world has such a pair of horses. I want to talk to Clara, in my own -room alone. Lily, go to Mrs. Fletcher, I can't have you roving about -so." Lily obeyed him instantly. - -"Wait one minute, Uncle dear; I want to go and fetch something." - -I ran to my own rooms, and found the deed of gift, which had not been -returned to the lawyers. This I took to his study and placed it in his -hands. - -"What is the matter, Clara? Have you turned conveyancer, and detected -some informality?" - -"No, dearest Uncle. But I want you to cancel this. I cannot allow you -so to rob your children." - -I will not say what he called me in his surprise and delight. It seemed -to me quite uncalled for; I had only done what my conscience told me was -just. But as for accepting my offer--he would not hear of it twice. -"Darling, it would be wrong. It would be downright robbery; and no plea -whatever for it, on the score of paternal duty. You are the proper -heir, the child of the elder son, the true representative of our ancient -family. All the rest is a quibble and quirk, of which, even without -your countless benefits, I never intended to take advantage. And my -children are, by the mother's side, of a family older even than ours--so -far as that nonsense goes--and are heirs to wealth compared to which--if -it only be rightly worked--these Vaughan estates are nothing. All I ask -you is to do a thing which I am sure you would do without asking--to -assist them, if what I have left them is spent before they prove their -claims. Here is a letter to Count Gaffori; that excellent man is still -alive; and here are the certificates, and my own brief deposition, which -I have begged a neighbouring magistrate to come to-day and attest; here -is my Lily's Spalla, and perhaps other relics are in my son's -possession. Lastly, here are two more letters, one to my old friend -Peter Green, who has now much influence in that part of Corsica, the -other to James McGregor, once my messmate at Lincoln's Inn, now an acute -and rising Counsel, and a leading authority upon municipal law. Take -all these, my darling, if you will so far oblige me; for I fear my -lovely daughter--isn't she lovely, Clara?" - -"The loveliest girl in all the world; and what is far more important, -the sweetest, and the best." - -"Yes, if you had searched the kingdom, you could not have brought me -such another love. But ah! you should have seen her mother! However, I -fear the sweet pet is a little careless and random, as her father used -to be. At any rate, I prefer entrusting this great budget to your brave -and honest hands; at least until my son comes here to claim it. The -deposition you shall have, when attested." - -"But, Uncle, surely you had better keep it all yourself. No fear of -Mrs. Daldy now." - -"No, my darling; but these things must not be buried with me." - -There was something in his eyes which made me start with terror. But he -smiled so sweetly that my terror fled. - -"And now, my child, about yourself. Though you have found me another -daughter, I look upon you as the eldest; and I venture to speak to you, -as a father would. Is it as my Lily tells me? Is it true--God grant it -may be--that you love my son, my Lily's son, Henry Conrad? Why don't -you answer me, darling? Tell the truth like a real Vaughan. Surely you -are not ashamed of him." And he laid his hand on my head. My tears fell -fast; and my heart was in a tempest. - -"Yes, Uncle," at last I answered, frightened for his suspense, and -looking him full in the face, "Yes, Uncle, I do--I mean at least I -did--love him very much at one time." - -"With all your heart, as we Vaughans love; with all your heart, poor -darling?" - -"Yes, Uncle," I sobbed, in bitter humiliation; "none of my heart is left -me." - -"Thank God! what blest news for his mother! My Harry is the happiest -fellow alive." - -"But, Uncle, he does not think so, he--he--doesn't perceive his -blessedness." A flash of my old self-irony came even through my -anguish. - -"Oh, I have heard all that. But surely you know the absurd mistake he -made." - -"Indeed, I cannot guess it. Is it my place to do that?" - -"Of course it is; when you are in the light, and he is all in the dark. -Whom did that kidnapper believe himself to have murdered?" - -"You, Uncle, of course." - -"And whose child then does he suppose you to be; if he heard of your -existence, as he is sure to have done?" - -"Merciful God, I see it all! And how bitterly I have wronged him, my -own noble Conrad!" - -My poor weak Uncle had to manage me, all by himself, in my terrible -hysterics. Frightened as he was, for he never before had to deal in -that way with a nature resembling mine, he would not even ring for help, -lest I should betray my secret to other ears than his own. When at last -I came to myself, he kissed me tenderly, and said: - -"My poor dear child, remember--when you may be glad to think of it--that -whether I see my noble boy or not, I shall die now in perfect happiness. -Noble he must be, or Clara could not love him. It would have been the -pet scheme of my heart, if I could have had a voice in it. And here it -is done without me! How often have I longed and yearned that he could -only see you, as you waited day and night by my pestilential bed, that -he could only know the tale of your troubles and devotion. At my death, -the generation so visited from heaven expires; and you three darlings -start anew, with all things in your favour. Now mind that the good old -Signor's directions are complied with, and that Harry, if he lives here, -abandons the Corsican property to his sister Lily. Promise me this, my -Clara." - -"Of course I will, dear Uncle--I mean, so far as my influence goes. And -he will then be bound to do so under the deed-poll, if I understood you -aright. But perhaps he has quite forgotten me now." - -"Of course he thinks himself bound to avoid you. But I have written to -set him right, and to bring him as soon as possible. And now -about--about that horrible--" - -"Ah, yes. If I had the right, I would even let him go. My feeling has -changed from fierce hatred to utter contempt. And surely his vengeance -is satisfied now." - -"No, Clara. It will flame more wildly than ever the moment he learns -his mistake, and my final triumph over him. Has he any idea where our -Lily is?" - -"As yet, he can have none. If old Cora went to Albert Street last -evening, she would learn nothing from Mrs. Shelfer, I took care of that, -except that Lily had been there, and was gone again. The old woman does -not speak English enough to attempt to cross-examine. She loves poor -Lily, I know, but will be satisfied with the belief that the child had -gone to her brother's. And as for that monster, even if he relents, he -will be too proud to inquire." - -"What had my poor child done, that the brute turned her out, and struck -her?" - -"Nothing, I believe, beyond defending her brother Conrad, as she always -did. I suppose I may call him 'Conrad,' Uncle?" - -"Yes, my dear, it is his true name, chosen by his mother. Where are you -going so hastily?" - -"To London at once. For your sake, Uncle dear, I must not think of -sparing him. I must have him in custody to-night. I would have avoided -it, if I could for a thousand reasons; but there is no alternative." - -"Yes there is. In two days I shall be beyond his reach. Don't ask me -what I mean. To-day is Thursday. Promise only to let him go free till -Saturday." - -"I will. But I must go to London. I cannot rest quiet here." - -My Uncle's face brightened beautifully. And he took my hand in his. - -"I know what you mean, my darling. You intend to discover my Harry, for -fear of any mishap. I will let you go, dear; though the house seems -empty without you, its truthful and graceful mistress. But you must not -go alone. It is not right for a beautiful girl, however self-possessed -and dignified, especially one of your station, to rove about -unattended." - -"Only one man ever insulted me, Uncle, I mean in a serious way, and he -never did it again." - -"It does not matter. The example is bad, and all men are not gentlemen. -Mrs. Fletcher shall go with you, and our pretty Lily keep house. But I -have an especial reason, and a most powerful one, for wishing that you -should be here. Don't go till to-morrow, my darling; I am so well -to-day, and I must see you once at your own table, with my daughter and -me for your guests." - -"Oh, Uncle, I hope so a thousand times. I will stop till the morning, -if you have set your heart upon it." - -"I have indeed. You may go in the morning by the first train, and be -back to-morrow night. Will you promise?" - -Though I could not understand his motive, and he was pleased to conceal -it, I promised all he asked. Then I told him all the story of Conrad -and the accident, how he saved my mother's life and mine, with the -courage and skill of a true-born mountaineer. My Uncle was moved to -tears, not only at the gallantry of his son, but also by the joy of -discovering that all the obligations lay not upon one side. I also wept -at finding that Lily had never heard of it. Conrad's lofty nature -scorned to narrate its own achievements. When, after that adventure, he -discovered who we were, he avoided us because he believed that his -father had slain mine. It was not till a later date, when he became of -age--as the Corsicans reckon manhood[#]--that Lepardo Della Croce told -him all he knew of his history, dwelt on the foul shame wrought to the -Della Croce by his bigamist father, and tried in vain to force on him -the awful oath of Vendetta. The youth had too much English blood in his -heart to accept the black inheritance. Thenceforth he could not bear -the sight of the man who had killed, as they both supposed, his father, -although, in his wrath for his mother's wrongs and his own, he would not -resent the deed. What marvel then that he spurned me, and was maddened -with himself, at finding that he, the illegitimate, was in love with me, -his legitimate sister? But now, we are only half-cousins, and nature -has never misled us. - - -[#] _i.e._ the age of twenty. - - -All that evening, my Uncle was in the most glorious spirits, and I am -not sure that Lily and I were very far behind him. He played us all -sorts of boyish tricks, and we made reprisals with girlish ones, till -Lily's joyous laughter rang halfway clown the corridor. I had dressed -her with especial care, and she did look such a love! But it was all too -sudden, and far too sweet to last. My Uncle indeed seemed quite beside -himself, more gladsome than nature allows us to be with impunity. Then -the vein dried all of a sudden, and the mind flowed the opposite way. -He made his beautiful daughter, who, though not much of a sophist, had a -soul that thrilled to music, he made her play the soft Corsican airs, -that seem to weep as they breathe, and which she had learned from old -Cora. He knew them all; how well he knew them, his face turned from the -light betrayed. The depth of melodious sadness, the touch of some -nervine chord, which knew not its own existence, and starts to be known -and appreciated, as might an unconscious poet, and more than all the -trembling spread of the feelers of the heart, these are the proofs of -nature's presence in music or in poetry. - -Then he begged me to play some of the sweet and simple melodies of -Wales. These he declared, and I had already perceived it, these were -born of the self-same spirit, though not so highly intensified, as the -Corsican romances. - -Finally, he told us many a moving tale of his Lily; tales a man is loth -to tell to those with whom he expects to live. How she was loved, and -how she seemed to love everybody, and pretty answers she made to those -who praised her beauty, and more than words or kisses, the loving things -she did, the elegance of self-denial, and the innocence of merit. - -That night, that memorable night, we stayed up more than two hours over -his proper time for going to bed. He seemed so sad to part, that I -could not bear to hurry him. One thing he told me which I was glad to -hear. - -"Clara, darling, I have taken a liberty with your house. This -afternoon, I wrote by the London post, for Annie Franks to come back -again to-morrow, if she will, as an especial favour to me." - -I was rather surprised; but answered him warmly, and in all truth: - -"Dear Uncle, you know that I love her; and I cannot see too much of the -few whom I really love." - -Then, as I was to start at six o'clock in the morning, he wished me -"Good bye," in a solemn manner, which seemed to me quite uncalled for. -He drew my young face to his own, so marked by sorrow and illness, -looked into my eyes as if I were to remember something, then held me in -his trembling embrace, and kissed me long and fondly. - -"God in heaven bless you, darling, for all you have done to me and -mine." - -"_Mine_, you should say, dear Uncle. I count them now my own." - -His daughter took him away, with her white arms thrown around him. For -now she slept in the closet next to his room, where I had so long been -quartered. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - -In the early morning, I was off for London, taking Mrs. Fletcher with -me, much against my will, because she seemed to cumber me both in -thought and action. Between the door and the avenue, I looked from the -open carriage--I hate to be shut up in summer--at the dear old house. -Lily had got up to breakfast with me, in spite of my prohibition; and -she was going with us as far as the lodge, to have a nice walk back. To -my great surprise I saw my poor Uncle, standing at his open window, -wrapped in a dressing-gown. He kissed his hand and waved me his last -farewell. I leaped on the seat to reply, and then scolded him with my -glove. Half in play and half in sorrow, he mocked my lively gestures, -and the morning breeze lifted his silver hair, as he wafted me the last -kiss. I told Lily to scold him well, with my very best love, and she -asked me in the most ladylike manner, if I saw any green in her eye. -The girl had picked up a great deal of slang among the fair collegians. -Mrs. Fletcher looked sadly shocked; so I said, to reassure her: "You -know, Mrs. Fletcher, we must make allowances for young ladies who come -from college." - -"To be sure, Miss Vaughan, to be sure we must," she replied with her -most sagacious air: and at Gloucester she whispered to the coachman, -"John, the villain that stole Miss Lily sent her to Oxford, in a young -gentleman's clothes, and she took a very high degree: but don't say a -word about it." "Not by any means, ma'am," answered John, with a grin. -Nevertheless, it found its way over the house, and the result was that -all the girls came to Lily about their sweethearts. - -I mention this trifling incident only to show how little I thought that -I then saw the last of my Uncle. - -At Paddington we met Annie Franks taking her ticket for Gloucester, and -looking most bright and blooming, with a grand pocket in her cloak, made -to hold a three-volumed novel. I had only time for a few words with -her, in which I commended my Uncle to her especial attention, as she had -ten times my cousin's experience. Then I went with her to the -down-platform, and saw her get into the carriage, and gave her the last -of my sandwiches, while a cruel guard made her turn out her new pocket, -insisting that she must have a little dog concealed there. I laughed at -the poor little dear, as crimson with mortification she showed before -all the gentlemen the triple fluted bulk, and the guard read out, more -in amazement than rudeness, "Sir Ingomar of the Red Hand; or, The Knight -of St. Valentine, and the Paynim Lady." The gentlemen were gentlemen, -and tried very hard not to smile; but the way the guard scratched his -head was a great deal too much for them. "Dog's ears, anyhow," cried -he, trying to escape with a joke. I drew her out of the carriage, with -tears in her soft gray eyes, and put her into another, where Sir Ingomar -was unknown, and might spur on at pleasure. Then the smiles returned to -her shy and innocent face, and she put her head to the window, and -whispered gently to me: - -"Any strawberries left, dear?" - -"I should think so, Annie. The best of them all, the British Queens, -are just coming in. And such a crop of grapes!" - -Annie's conception of perfect bliss was to sit upon a shady bank, "the -breeze just fanning her delicate cheek," with a cabbage-leaf full of -strawberries by her, and a cut-and-thrust novel upon her lap. Off she -went with a lovely smile, foreseeing all these delights. - -From Paddington we drove straightway to the lodgings of Conrad Vaughan. -As we jolted along the New-road, which always has more holes in it than -any other street in London, I lost my wits in a tumult of thick -tempestuous thought. What would Conny say to see me, me the haughty -Clara, coming all impatiently even in quest of him? Would it not have -been far better, far more like an English maiden, to wait, and wait, and -wear the soul out, rather than to run the risk of mis-interpretation? -True, it was for his father's sake, to save him from deadly peril, and -to make his happiness complete; but might not all have been done by -messenger, as well as by me in person? So at least might fancy those -who did not know our enemy. Worst of all, and cloudiest thought, that -filled the eyes every time it came,--would he love me still? Would not -the strong revulsion, that must have torn him in two, when he dashed his -hand on his forehead, and forgot even man's forbearance, would not, must -not this have snapped all the delicate roots of love? I could not tell. -Of man's heart I know nothing; but I felt that with me, a woman, such a -horrible thing would create only longing to make amends. - -"Mrs. Fletcher, how is my hair?" - -"Lovely, my pretty child"--she always called me so from habit when no -one else was present--"you look your very best; and I'd like to see them -that could--talk to me of Lilies indeed, when our Miss Clara--" - -"No smuts on my nose, Mrs. Fletcher, I hope? I never feel sure, in -London. You don't know London, you see." - -"No, my pretty, as clean as a whistle, and as clear as the voice of a -May-bird, every atom of you. There's no such complexion nowhere out of -Gloshire or in it: and its all along of the brimstone and treacle I give -you, when you was small. Talk to me of Lilies--why I see three great -butter spots, as big as the point of a needle, and I know by the make of -her boot that her little toe turn over; and what's more than that--" - -"Mrs. Fletcher, I won't hear a word of it. As to her little toe, I can -most solemnly declare that you are wrong altogether; for I have seen her -naked foot, and a lovelier one never was--" - -"Take yours out of the way, Miss. But--" - -"But-- here we are; and you have made my cheeks quite red! I shall be -ashamed to be seen." - -However, it did not matter; for there was no one there to see me. -Conrad was gone to Paris; he had quitted London quite suddenly, and -there was a letter left for his sister, which the girl forgot to post, -till she thought it was too late. And he said very likely he should go -on to Italy; and they were not to keep the rooms, if they had a chance -of letting them, only to put away the things he had left, in the -cupboard. So I took the letter, directed "Miss Isola Ross," but I did -not dare to open it, much as I longed to do so. Having enclosed it in a -new envelope, and posted it in the nearest letter-box, with a heavy -heart I re-entered the cab, and went on to Mrs. Shelfer's. - -Mrs. Shelfer was of course surprised to see me so soon again. -Nevertheless she was all kindness and hospitality, as usual. The -residue of her little debt had been long ago released, and now I paid -full rent, for I could easily afford it. In answer to my eager -inquiries as to what had occurred since Wednesday, the little woman said -shortly: - -"Nothing at all, Miss, of any account, I thank you. Only Charley threw -double size, three times running, and won--" - -"I don't mean that, Mrs. Shelfer; I mean, what has happened for me?" - -"Nothing, Miss Vaughan; no, nothing to concern a great lady like you: -only such a queer lot come, and they seemed to be friends of yours. -They ain't gone from here more than half an hour ago." - -"Tell me all about them." - -"They come and ringed the bell, as modest as could be; and when I went -to the door, says they, 'If you please, where be Miss Clara, ma'am?' -'Miss Clara!' says I, 'a set of dressed up trollops like you, come and -ask for Miss Clara! She'd Miss Clara you, pretty quick time, I doubt, -if she was only here.' 'Us humbly hopes no offence, ma'am,' says the -great big man, the biggest man as ever I see without paying, 'only us -has come up from the country, ma'am.' 'Up from the country!' says I, -'needn't tell me that, my good giant; any fool can see that. And if you -take my advice, you'll clap your hat on, and go down again, and thank -God for it.' You see, Miss, he had got his hat off, and he standing out -of doors, on the shady side of the street! So what I said seemed to -stop him altogether, and he looked as if he wanted to think about it; -and I was just a slapping the door in their faces, when the other man, -the queerest guy I ever see, a hanging in his clothes like a skiver in a -dish-clout, he look full in my face as grave as a heretic parson, and -stretch out his skinny arm, and keep time with one foot, while he say or -sing, - - "'Ma'am, us be here now in this Lunnon town, - And it bain't likely as we be going down, - Till us see every mortal thing as there be for to see, - And take all the change out in a thorough-going spree.' - - -Then the big man laugh and clap him on the back; and the little one wink -both his eyes, and look to see what I think of it. Then when he see me -laugh, he make me such a coorous bow, that what with his--what do they -call the plaister, Miss?" - -"Diachylon, perhaps you mean, Mrs. Shelfer?" - -"Ah, that's the word. What with his strange diaculum, and his dancing -altitude, I declare I was a most a going to invite them in: but I -recollects, no, no: If Charley gets along of such Reginalds as these, I -may stand at the bed-room door and whistle for a week. There's nothing -Charley loves so much as a downright Reginald." - -Poor simple-minded woman; how little she perceived that she of all the -number was by far the most original! And, like most of those who are -truly so, she would have taken the imputation as an outrageous insult. -Only the sham original glories in being thought queer. - -"Well, Mrs. Shelfer, I want to hear the end of it." - -"Just what I say, Miss. Yes, yes, no time to spare, and the pudding -boiling. So I says, quite sharp, 'What name, my good sir, and will you -leave a message? Miss Vaughan is out of town.' 'Wull,' says he, just -as I tell you, Miss, 'ony plase you say, ma'am, as Jan Uxtable, and -Beany Dawe, and the two beggest of the chillers has doed theirselves the -honour of coming to lave their dooty.' Then the little girl look up and -she flash her ribbons and say, 'Mr. Huxtable, if you please, ma'am, and -Mr. Ebenezer Dawe, and Miss Huxtable, and Master John, has called.' -'Hadn't you better write it down, Miss?' says I, as innocent as -possible. 'Do you suppose I can't then?' says she, with such a spitting -out of her eyes, and she swinging a new parry sole. 'Just give me a -sheet of papper, if you keep such a thing in the house.' 'Plase to -excuse the little wanch, ma'am,' says the big man, quite humble, 'us -can't hardly make head nor tail of her, since her come to this here -Lunnon. If I had only knowed it I'd have had her mother along of me, -that I would ees fai, and the coo be her own midwaife. But ony plase -you say Jan Uxtable come if they count it dacent hereaway. Threescore -acres and five, ma'am, without reckon the Cleeve, and no man have a -call, to my mind, to christen himself "Mister" on less than a hundred -acres, in Lunnon or out of it.' 'Very well, sir,' I says, for I took to -the big man somehow, 'I will deliver your message. Miss Vaughan only -went from here of middle day on Wednesday.' 'And tell her please, if -she do come back,' says spirity Miss Parrysole, with the tears in her -great blue eyes, 'that Sally Huxtable leave her very best love and duty, -and hope so much Miss Clara will come to see the great wrestling -to-morrow, twelve o'clock, and be early. And they be betting now two to -one on the other man, ma'am. But he have no chance, no more than Tim -Badcock with father.' 'I be much afeared, ma'am,' says the deep-voiced -man, as soft as any bell, 'I be afeared our Sally will be begger by a -lanyard nor ever her daddy or her mammy was. But likely it be all for -the best.' And with that all four of them crooked their legs to me most -polite, and went on round the corner; and after them went a score of -boys, that seemed to follow them everywhere. The boys knew all about -it, and so did I at last, that it was the great champion wrestling, that -is to be to-morrow. Charley have been mad about it going on now two -months. And can you please to tell him, Miss, which way to lay his -money?" - -"To be sure, I can. Let him take every offer of two to one against the -Devonshire champion; and if he loses I will make it good to him, upon -condition that he gives you everything he wins. Now please to let me -have a cup of strong tea." - -Having thus got rid of my most talkative friend, and Mrs. Fletcher -having started off to buy something, I had time to think a little. - -It was nearly two o'clock on the Friday afternoon. Nothing more could be -done at present towards recovering Conrad, for he had not even left at -his lodgings any Continental address. Possibly his place of sojourn -might be revealed in the letter to his sister, posted by my hand: but it -was far more likely that he himself knew not, at the time of writing, -where he should find quarters. I must have been beside myself with -worry and disappointment, when I dropped that letter into Her Majesty's -box; for if I returned, as had been arranged, by the express at five -o'clock, several hours would be saved in the delivery of its tidings. -And, as yet, I little dreamed where I should be at five P.M. - -In that little room, whose walls were more relieved than decorated by -certain daubs of mine, which even in my narrowest straits I could not -bear to part with, because an indulgent critic had found merit in -them--a discovery requiring much acumen--here I now sat, gazing fondly, -dreaming hazily, yearning strongly for the days gone by, yet only three -months old, when I had not a crust or dress till I earned it by my -labour. How that pinch enlarged my heart, God only knows, not I. Ah, -then I was a happy girl, though I never guessed it. How proudly I -walked down the Square, with my black straw bonnet on--which Idols -called the Dowdy,--and my dark plaid shawl around me, the plainest of -the plain, yet not prepared to confess myself so quotidian as my dress. -Who could tell, in those happy days, who might come, or round what -corner, and who could say whether of the twain would look the more -accidental? And then the doubt--shall I look or not, better perhaps be -intent on the fire-plug, and make him come round again? - -But now. Ah me, they have heaped up riches for me, and who shall come -to enjoy them? - -Just as I was warming to this subject, gushing along in a fine vein of -that compassion which alone of soft emotions we find it no duty to -wrestle with, I mean of course self-pity--in came Mrs. Fletcher, -suddenly, and in anger. - -"Well, Miss Clara," she exclaimed, throwing down her parcel, "so this is -London, is it?" - -"To be sure, Mrs. Fletcher. What objection have you to make to it?" - -"No objection, Miss, only this, that if ever I seen a set of countrified -folk, the Londoners are them. Why the commonest of our kitchen-maids -would be ashamed to talk so broad, and to dress so contemptuous. And -here I went half a mile to buy boots, real London-made; and trees all -along by the side of the road, and pots on the shelves of the windows. -I never, if Gloucester don't look much more like a town." - -As Mrs. Fletcher did not tell a story with the Herodotean vivacity of -Tim Badcock, I will render her facts in my own unpretending version, -premising only that she had taken the farmer and Sally for specimens of -the true Cockney; a bit of saltatory reasoning of which she has not -heard (and perhaps never will hear) the last. While then the worthy -housekeeper was driving a slow but shrewd bargain, in a smart shop by -the Broadway, taking the boots to the sunshine, to pick clever holes in -the stitching, she observed a diminutive boy, of the genuine shoe-black -order, encamping in a bight or back-eddy of pavement, just at the side -of the door. This little fellow was uniformed, or rather -multi-coloured, in gold, and red, and green. His cap was scarlet, and -edged with gold twist; his tunic red, and his apron of very bright green -baize. On his cap, and on one shoulder, appeared his number, 32, in -figures of brass, an inch and a half in length. Strapped on his back he -carried an oblong block of wood, like a great club-foot, and nearly as -large as himself. This he deposited, with elaborate fuss, on the curb -of the inner pavement, which terraced some inches above the true -thoroughfare. A blacking-jar hung at one end of his block; from a -drawer below he pulled out three well-worn brushes, and began to hiss -and to work away, in double quick time, with both hands, at some boot -projected towards him on the delicate foot of fancy. As he grew warm at -his work, with one sharp eye all the while looking out for a genial -passenger, there slowly came straggling towards him a bevy quite fresh -from Arcadia. First, in treble importance walked, impressively rolling -and leering around, Hermes, Pan, and the owl of Pallas, combined in one -Ebenezer Dawe. His eyes, never too co-operative, roved away upon either -side, in quest of intelligence, which they received with a blink that -meant, "Pooh, don't I know it?" With occasional jerks of his lank right -arm, he was dragging along, like a saw through a knot, the sturdy, -tight-buttoned, and close-pronged form of our little Jack. Jack was -arrayed in a black wide-awake, with blue ribbons, and a bran-new suit of -broad-furrowed corduroy, made of nights by his mother and Suke, and -turned out with countless pockets, each having three broad buttons, to -foil the London thieves. In one of these pockets, the trouser one I do -believe, in spite of all Sally had taught him, he was now chinking, to -the creak of the corduroys, his last-abiding halfpence, and lagging -heavily on the poet's arm, he cast fond glances at a pile of glorious -peg-tops. Sticking her toes into little Jack's heels, to kick anybody -that dared to steal him, came my little Sally, all fire, and wonder, and -self-assertion, towing her mighty father along, like a grasshopper -leading an ox. At times she strove to drag him towards the finery of -the windows, and paid very little heed to his placid protestations. -"Walk fitty, my dear; walk as you ought to do, my dear. Oh fai! oh fai! -Whatever wull they Lunnoners think of Davonsheer, if they zees you -agooin on laike this here? There, dang that Beany Dawe; blest if I -baint a toornin Pouet too. Coomth of larnin to wraite, I reckon." The -farmer's pockets were crammed with circulars, handbills, and puffs of -every description, which he received from all who offered, and was -saving them all for his wife. - -"Clean your boots, my gentleman," cried a little shrill voice; "clean -both your boots for a halfpenny. Never say die, Sir; polish 'em bright -till the cat at home won't know them. Three-fardings-worth of blacking, -and a penny in skill and labour, and all for the laughable sum of one -half-penny. Pure satisfaction guaranteed, or the whole of the money -returned. Up with your foot, my gentleman!" - -The farmer pulled up suddenly, for fear of walking over him, as the boy, -despising Beany Dawe, had dashed in between Jack and Sally, and danced -before Mr. Huxtable. His brushes were whisking about, like bumble-bees -roughly disturbed, and already menaced the drab of the Sunday fustian -gaiters. - -"Zober now," cried the farmer, who could not believe that he was -addressed, having never dreamed, in his most ambitious moments (if any -such he had), of ever being called a gentleman, "zober now, wull'e. -Where bee'st gooin to, thou little hosebird; be they your Lunnon-town -manners? Lat alo-un, I zay; lat alo-un now, wull 'e?"--as the boy got -more and more tentative--"Heart alaive, cant e zee, they be my Zunday -gaiters? Oh, if my missus wor here! And 'e bain't more nor naine year -old! Wull, wull, where ever do 'e goo to schouell?" - -"Hinstitooshun 66. No children or females admitted. Up with your foot, -old bloke! Do the young uns and tootor half-price. Just two minutes to -spare, till the Dook of Cambridge's turn. Great Exhibition polish, and -all to encourage the fine arts." - -The good farmer was lost beyond hope, in the multitude of subjects -pressed all of a pulp on his slow understanding; nevertheless, he had -presence of mind to feel first for his watch and his money, and then for -the best pocket-handkerchief stitched into the crown of his hat; -meanwhile the boy got hold of one foot, and began to turn up his -gaiters. Then Sally and little Jack rushed to the rescue, and Jack -punched the boy in the face, while Beany Dawe looked on with a grin of -broad experience. But in spite of all aid, the farmer began to collapse -before his mosquito enemy; when luckily three giant Life-guards (for a -crowd was now collected) opened their mouths, like the ends of a -monkey-fur muff, in a round and loud guffaw, with a very coarse sneer at -poor Sally. The farmer looked at them in much amazement; then his -perplexity went like a cloud, and his face shone with something to do, -as he gave Sally his hat to hold. Till now all the mockers had been too -small for him anyhow to fall foul of. Ere the echo of laughter was -over, the three dandy Lifeguards lay on their backs in the mud, with -their striped legs erect in the air, like the rods of a railway -surveyor. The crowd fell back headlong, as if from a plunging horse, -then laughed at the fallen and with the conqueror. Even the boy was -humility multiplied into servility. - -"Wutt be up to, arl on 'e?" asked the farmer, replacing his hat; "cas'n -none on 'e lat a pacible chap alo-un? And wutt will they chillers think -as coom here to get example? Why, Beany, if us had knowed this, us -would have brought Bill constable with us, ees fai. Now 'e don't know -nothing about it"--he remonstrated with the admiring multitude--"one o' -them dree worn't throw handsome laike, ony dree pins, I tull 'e. But -us'll do it over again, if he claimeth it. Can't do nothing vitty, zin -I laved my missus at home. But her wadn't coom, God knows." These last -two remarks were addressed to himself, but the crowd had full benefit of -them. "Worn't 'e axing of lave, two or dree minutes agone, little chap -with the brisk there, to tend my butts, and tuk it amost wiout axing? -Us be bound laike to stap here now till us zees if them 'lisher men -feels up for any moor plai. Do as 'e plase, little chap, zoon as Sally -hath toorned my best gaiters up, if her bain't too grand in Lunnon." - -With bright ribbons fluttering and finery flapping about her, poor Sally -knelt down in a moment to work at the muddy fustian: but her father -would not allow it, he had only wished to try her; so he caught her up -with one hand, and kissed her, and I think, from what Mrs. Fletcher -said, he must have given her sixpence at least. - -It is needless to say that, although the boy worked with both hands in -the most conscientious manner, the farmer's boots defied him. -Neats'-foot oil, and tallow, and beeswax held their own against Day and -Martin. "Coom, little chap," said Mr. Huxtable, kindly, "thee hast dooed -thy very best, but our Zuke will have the laugh of thee. Tache thee -perhaps it wull to be zoberer next taime, and not be quite so peart to -do a dale more nor thee can do. But thee hast used more ink than ai wud -over two copies. Here be a groat for the Exhibition polish." - -In this little episode, as will be manifest, Sally has helped me more -than Mrs. Fletcher. But now, to return to my narrative. - -Almost directly after the housekeeper left me, Patty came trotting in -with a large white breakfast-cup full of most powerful tea. I cannot -help thinking that the little woman put some brandy in it, or allowed -Mrs. Fletcher, who trusted much in that cordial, to do so; but they -stoutly deny the charge, and declare that there was only a pinch of -gunpowder. Whatever it was, being parched with thirst, I swallowed -without tasting it, and the effect upon my jaded brain was immediate and -amazing. All self-pity was gone; and self-admiration, and haughty -courage succeeded. Was I, Clara Vaughan, who had groped and grubbed for -years to find the hole of a blasting snake, and had now got my hand upon -it, was I to start back and turn pale at his hiss, and say, "God speed -you and polish your skin. Give me your slough for a keepsake?" Would I -not rather seize the incarnate devil, trample his spine, and make his -tongue sputter in dust? In a moment my cloak and hat were on again; I -scarcely looked at the glass, but felt the hot flush on my cheeks, as I -lightly skipped down the stairs, and silently left the house. What to -do next I knew not, nor asked, but flew headlong before the impulse, to -lift and confront--as is my nature--the danger that lay before me. As I -glided along, I was conscious of one thing, the people in the street -turned in surprise to watch me. As if by instinct, I hurried straight -to Lucas Street, my courage mounting higher and higher as I neared the -accursed threshold. Balaam and Balak stood at the bar of a tavern which -commanded a view of the street, but were much too busy with beer to see -me passing so swiftly. Loudly I rang the bell of No. 37; the figures -were bright on the door, and looking narrowly, I perceived the old No. -19, more by the lines than the colour. - -Old Cora came as usual; but started at seeing me, and turned as pale as -death. - -"Is your master within?" I could not use his false name. - -"Yes, Meesa, but you not see him now." - -"Dare you to disobey Our Lady's heart?" And I held my gordit before -her. She cowered with one knee on the mat and kissed it; then led me -into the presence of Lepardo Della Croce. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - -It was a dark and gloomy room, with three high, narrow windows. Cora -departed hastily, frightened at what she had done. In a recess at the -farther end, before a chest of black bog-oak, sat the man I sought. The -crowning moment of my life was come. All rehearsals went for nothing: -the strongest feeling of my heart was scorn, cold, unfathomable scorn. -To show myself well, I took off my hat, and advanced in my haughtiest -manner. - -As he turned his head, I saw that his mood was blacker than the oak -before him. Some dark memorials perhaps were there; hastily and heavily -he flung down the lid, as I walked with even steps towards him. - -"Ah! Miss Valence! The young lady that paints. I feared that you were -lost to London; for now-a-days the pursuit of the fine arts requires -either genius, or fashion, at any rate the latter most, to be at all -remunerative. May I show you the way to the drawing-room? I have not -often the honour of receiving visitors here. But I think you know how -entirely I am the slave of young ladies, Miss Valence." And he held out -his delicate hand. - -"Lepardo Della Croce, my name is not Valence. I am Clara Vaughan, the -only child of him whom in his sleep you murdered." - -He turned not pale, but livid. His jaunty nonsense was gone in a -moment. He quailed from my dark eyes, and fell upon a chair. For one -minute there he crouched, and dared not meet my gaze; every fibre of his -flesh was quivering. It was not shame that cowed him, but the -prostration of amazement. - -Suddenly he leaped upright, and met me eye to eye. Then I saw that his -pupils turned towards each other, as my uncle had described. I neither -spoke, nor allowed my gaze to falter. Every nerve and cord of my frame -was tense, and rigid, and rooted. To him I must have seemed the -embodiment of revenge. - -At last he spoke, very slowly, and in words that trembled. - -"You have no right to judge me by your English notions. You do not -understand me." - -"I judge you not at all. God shall judge and smite you. In cold blood -you murdered a man who never wronged you." - -"What!" he burst forth in a blaze of triumph, "no wrong to steal my -lovely bride, and my noble inheritance, to debauch the purest blood of -Corsica by a prostitute wedding; no wrong to strike me senseless! Even -your nation of policemen would call this rather initiative." - -"The man you stole upon in his sleep had never seen or heard of you, had -never been in Corsica." - -"What?" His teeth struck together like fire-tongs badly jointed, and he -could not part them. - -"It is true. I regret to inform you that you must go to hell for -nothing. You could not even murder the right man." - -"Tell me." - -"Like a coward as you are, you crawled, and lurked, and lied; you spent -what little mind you have in securing a baby's blow, you crouched among -old clothes and bed-ticks, and behind the housemaid's flask; and you -went away exulting in your bloody soul, over what? the wrong man's -murder." - -"Can it be?" - -"Not only this, but you enriched and brought into high position the man -you meant to kill. He became the lord of his half-brother's lands, and -now is wealthy and happy, and the children you stole will help him to -laugh at your Vendetta." - -"Wait a little." - -"Cats and small dogs you can carve alive, when a woman has strapped them -down for you, and the poor things are trying to lick you. But as for -midnight murder, however sound your victims sleep, you have not nerve -enough. You quake and quiver so that you know not a dark man from a -fair. Clever, don't you think? Particularly for a Professor." - -I saw that my contempt was curling round him like a knout; so I gave him -a little more of it. - -"Of course we could not expect you to meet your foe like a man. Even -were you a worthy sample of your sneaking race, you never could do that. -Too wholesome memory of the English blow between your quailing eyes. I -am pleased to see you fumbling clumsily for your dagger. Who knows but -what you are fool enough even to have some self-respect?" - -A black tint darted beneath his skin, as if his heart were a -cuttle-fish. Had I taken my eyes from him, he would have stabbed me. -He fell back against the oak chest. My madness grew with my triumph. - -"No. You dare not do it, because I am not asleep. Come, I will give you -every chance, Lepardo Della Croce. If you are brave enough to shoot a -white-haired man at dinner, surely you have the courage to stab a young -girl on the sofa. Here I lie. I will not move. And I defy you to do -it." - -Quietly I lay and watched him; but as if he were scarcely worth it. He -could not take his eyes from mine. He was like a rat before a snake. -And all the while, his hand was working on the cross haft of a poniard. - -"What more can I do to encourage you? Would you like the curtain to -skulk behind?" - -And I threw the window-hangings over the foot of the sofa, but so that I -held him still in view. Calm as I was, I must have been mad to play -with my life so contemptuously. Presently I rose, put back my hair and -turned away, as in weariness. - -"I fear your appetite is cloyed with the writhings of cats and dogs. Or -has murder no relish for you, unless it be in cold blood? But there, I -am tired of you: you have so little variety. We will send you back to -Corsica, and write 'Rimbecco' on you." - -He sprang at me madly, gnashing his teeth, and whirling his stiletto. I -faced him just in time, with both hands by my side. Had I raised them, -or shown the least sign of fear, my life would have followed my father's -then and there. - -"Yes," I said, while he paused, with the weapon not a yard from me, "a -spirited attempt, considering what you are. But waste of time and -trouble. However, I have hit the word which seems to suit your views. -Allow me to repeat the agreeable term, 'Rimbecco.'" - -I saw in his eyes the flash which shows the momentum given, but his arm -fell powerless. He looked even humbly at me. - -"Clara Vaughan--" - -"Be kind enough to address me properly." - -"Miss Vaughan, you must have some powerful reason for wishing to be rid -of life." He tried to look piercingly at me. - -"You are quite mistaken. It is nothing more than contempt of an abject -coward and murderer." - -"To you I will make no attempt to justify myself. You could not -understand me. Your ways of thought are wholly different." - -"I beg leave to hope so. Don't come near me, if you please." - -"If I have injured you in ignorance, I will do my best to make amends. -What course do you propose?" - -"To let you go free, in pity for your abject nature and cowardice. We -scorn you too much for anything else." - -This seemed to amaze him more than all before. It was plain that he -could not believe me. A long silence ensued. Looking at the wily -wretch, I began unwittingly to compare, or rather to contrast his noble -victim with him. I thought of the deep affliction and misery wrought by -his despicable revenge. I thought of his brutal cruelty to the poor -creatures God has given us; and a rancour like his own began to move in -my troubled heart. It had been there all the while, no doubt, but a -larger pressure had stilled it. Watching me intently, he saw the change -in my countenance, and as cold disdain grew flushed with anger, my power -over him departed. But he did not let me perceive it. I am sure that I -might have gone whither and when I pleased, and he would have feared to -follow me, if I had only regarded him to the end with no other emotion -than scorn. - -"Am I to understand," he said at last, "that you intend to do nothing to -me?" - -"It is not worth our while to hang you. For such a crime any other -punishment would be an outrage and a jest. You slew a good and a gentle -man; one as brave as you are cowardly. By the same blow you destroyed -his wife, who lingered for a few years, pining till she died. Both of -these were dear to God. He will avenge them in His good time. Only one -thing we shall insist on, that you leave this country immediately, and -under a solemn oath never to return to it. One good point you have, I -am told--fidelity to your word." - -"And if I refuse, what then?" - -"Then you die a murderer's death. We have evidence you little dream -of." - -He had now recovered his presence of mind, and his scoffing manner; and -all his plan was formed. - -"What a brave young lady you are to come here all alone, and -entertaining so low an opinion of the poor Professor." - -"The very reason why I scorned precautions." A deep gleam shot through -the darkness of his eyes. - -"You must indeed despise me, to come here without telling any one!" - -"Of course. But I did not mean to come, till my father's spirit led -me." - -With a shudder he glanced all round the room. Lily was not mistaken -when she called him superstitious. Then he tried to sneer it off. - -"And did the good Papa, dear to God, undertake to escort you back?" -Seeing that I disdained to answer, he continued thus: "You have -displayed much graceful and highly-becoming scorn. I, in turn, will -exhibit some little contempt of you. You were pleased to say, if my -memory serves me, that you had some wonderful evidence. I will furnish -you with more, and perhaps what you little dream of. Approach, and -examine this box." - -He raised the lid of the oaken chest, and propped it with a staple. -Quite thrown off my guard for the moment, I began to devour the contents -with my eyes. Not many things were in it; but all of them were -remarkable. To me they looked like theatrical properties, or materials -for disguise. Some of them were faded and tarnished; some were set with -a silver cross. My gaze was rivetted on a pair of boots, fixed in a -ledge with horse-shoe bays; on the sole of one I perceived a cross of -metal inlaid; I drew nearer to see it more closely, when something fell -over my head. All down me, and round me, and twisted behind in a tight -_tourniquet_, before I could guess what it was. I am not weak, for a -girl; but I could no more lift my arms than a swathed mummy can. -Neither could I kick, although as a child I had been famous for that -accomplishment; if I lifted either foot, I must tumble head-foremost -into the box, which was large enough for me to live in. Scream I could, -and did, in spite of all my valour, not only from fright, but from pain, -for my chest was dreadfully tightened; but before I could scream more -than twice, a cloth was passed over my mouth, and knotted behind my -neck. So there I stood, a helpless prisoner, in the recess at the end -of the oaken ark. A low laugh thrilled in my ears, but the hand on my -spine relaxed not; I turned my neck by a violent effort and met the -demon's eyes. - -"Very pretty you look, young lady, very pretty indeed. I must have a -kiss before I have done with you, in spite of all indignation. There is -a dress resembling this among the Tartar tribes. Did I hurt your proud, -straight nose? If so, accept most humble apologies. I would not injure -it for the world; it does express so much scorn. Take care, my child, -your eyelashes are coming through the worsted." - -Yes. Ignoble confession! I, for whose disdain the world had been too -small, was prisoned and helpless in an "anti-macassar," like a fly in a -paper cage-trap. The sofa, on which I had lain so grandly defying my -enemy, was covered with a stout worsted net, long and very strong: this -he had doubled end to end, and flung over my haughty head. I have not -patience to recount his paltry, bantering jeers. Contempt is a tool I -am used to grasp by the handle only. Be it enough to say that, without -releasing me, he rang the bell for Cora, whose greedy eyes glistened -when she saw my gordit loose from my bosom, and tangled in the net. Her -master allowed her to disengage, and, for the time at least, appropriate -it. In return for this, she was, at his pleasure, to stab me if he -should order it. By his directions, she tied my ankles together, while -he lashed my arms anew, and tightened the muffler over my bleeding lips. -I closed my eyes, and prayed; then I made up my mind to die, as many a -Vaughan had done, at the hands of a brutal enemy. My last thought was -of Conrad, and then my senses forsook me. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - -I have a faint recollection of feeling myself swung, and jolted down a -number of stairs, and of a cold breeze striking on my face. And -doubtless they carried me down; for the room in which I had found my -enemy was two floors above the cellarage. When I came to myself, I had -no idea where in the world I was. The air was heavy with a most -powerful and oppressive smell, a reek and taint as of death and -corruption. It made me faint, and I think I must have gone off again. -Lifting my head at last, I began to look languidly around. The table, -or working-bench, on which I lay, was near the centre of a long and -narrow room, gloomy and cold, even in the dog-days, floored with -moss-green stone, and far below the ground-level. Those flag-stones, I -suppose, were bedded immediately upon the tough blue London clay, that -most unconquerable stratum, sullen, damp, and barren. I could only see -two windows in the long low room, both upon the same side, horizontally -fixed, and several feet from the floor. Heavy iron bars, -perpendicularly set, crossed them at narrow intervals, as if it had been -the condemned cell in a prison. One of these windows was already -darkened with a truss of straw, and sacks over it, placed outside the -glass; as is done in Corsica, during Vendetta siege. The technical term -is "inceppar le fenestre." Through the other window (which looked up a -slide or scoop of brickwork, like a malt-shovel, to the flabby garden -behind the house), I saw an arm, the colour and shape of an American -herring, very active with a hammer. - -I knew that arm at once. Sticking out at the joints, like the spurs of -a pear-tree, welted and wired with muscle between them, like the -drumstick of a turkey, but flat as if plaited of hide, no friend of mine -could claim it, except the Corsican Cora. Deliberately she drove the -nails, like a gardener training a tree, paying undue attention to her -skinny knuckles; then she lifted the sacks, stooped down and looked in, -grimly reconnoitring me. By the slanting light I saw what a horrible -place I lay in. Around and under me, on the furrowed timber, were dull -plum-coloured blotches, where the slowly trickling blood of many an -unlucky dog and cat had curdled; even if there were not any shed from -nobler veins. Reaching in a back-handed way towards the jagged margin, -I grasped a cold hard cylinder. It was an iron hold-fast, like, but -larger than the instrument to be seen in every carpenter's bench, which -works in a collared hole, and has a claw for clutching. Under it, no -doubt, many a poor live victim had quivered and sobbed in vain. At my -head were two square slides, fitted with straps of stout unyielding web. -Near them was a rasped iron plane working along a metal bed or groove, -with a solid T piece, and a winch to adjust it. - -As with morbid observation I surveyed these fiendish devices, and many -others which I cannot stop to tell of, I who love almost every creature -made by our own Maker, especially those to whom we are lent as Gods, my -flesh, I say, began to creep, and my blood to curdle, as if the -dissecting knife were already in my diaphragm. Surely those who in full -manhood torture His innocent creatures--poor things that cannot plead or -weep, but worship the foot that kicks them--surely these, if any, we may -without presumption say that He who made will judge. Four brief lines -by a modern poet, too well known for me to quote them, express a grand -and simple truth, seldom denied, more seldom felt. - -But here am I, laid out in this fearful place, perhaps myself a subject -for vivisection. No, I am not strapped; even my feet are free. Off the -grouted and grimy table I roll with all possible speed, the table where -even strong Judy must have lain still as a skeleton. Of skeletons there -were plenty ranged around the walls, and other hideous things which I -cannot bear to think of. One was a monstrous crocodile, with scales -like a shed fir-cone, all reflexed and dry, and ringent lips of leather, -and teeth that seemed to look the wrong way, like a daisy-rake -over-worked. Another was some pulled-out beast, that never could hit -his own joints again--plesiosauri, deinosauri, marsupials, -proboscidians--I am sure I cannot tell, having never been at college. I -only know that at every one of them I shuddered, and shrugged my -shoulders, and wished that he smelled rather nicer. Then there were -numbers of things always going up and down, in stuff like clarified -syrup, according to the change of temperature, just as leeches do in a -pickle-bottle. Snakes as well, and other reptiles streaked like sticks -of peppermint, and centipedes, and Rio wrigglers, called I think La -Croya. It was enough in that vault-like room, which felt like the -scooping of an August iceberg; it was more than enough to strike a chill -to the marrow, as of one who sleeps in a bed newly brought from the -cellar. But the worst and most horrible thing of all was the core and -nucleus of the smell that might be felt, the half-dissected body of a -porpoise, leaning on a dozen stout cross-poles. It was enough to make -the blood of a dog run cold. - -Overpowered by sights and smells, and the fear of mingling with them, I -huddled away in a corner, and tried in vain to take my eyes from the -only sign of life yet left, the motion of Cora's club-like arm. The -poor old woman enjoyed my interest in her work, and when she had -finished, she made me a mock salaam, and kissed the pixie's heart. -Then, with a grin, she dropped the rough hangings, and left me in -ghastly twilight. - -As the sacks fell over the window-frame, I lost all presence of mind, -all honest indignation, everything but a coward horror, and the -shrinking of life from death. With all the strength of my chest and -throat, I cast forth, as a cannon discharges, one long, volleyed, -agonising shriek. As it rang among the skeletons, and rattled their -tissue-less joints, a small square grating in the upper panel of the -heavy door swung back, and in the opening appeared the face of Lepardo -Della Croce. He lifted his hat with a pleasant air, and addressed me -with a smile, - -"Ah! now, this I call a pity, a great pity, indeed, Miss Vaughan; but -that I always fear the imputation of pedantry, I should call it a -bathos. You can hardly be aware that since you made that dreadful -noise, you have fallen in my opinion from a Porcia, or an Arria, to a -common maid Marian. Fie, fie, it is too disappointing. It saps one's -candid faith in the nobility of human nature. But, as I can no longer -appeal to your courage or spirit, I must, it appears, address myself to -your reason; if, as I am fain to hope, your nerves have not impaired it. -Be assured, then, once for all, that it is a vulgar error to exert your -sweet voice in so high a key. My little dissecting theatre, though not -so perfect as I could wish, particularly in ventilation, is nevertheless -so secured from erroneous plebeian sympathy, that all the cats in London -might squall away their fabulous nine lives without affecting the tea -and muffins of the excellent old ladies who live on either side of us. -That noble tabby, on the third shelf right, was a household god at No. -39, until he had the honour of attracting my attention. Breathe not a -word about him, if you ever come out. Twice a day, I sent to inquire, -with my kindest compliments, whether poor Miss Jenkinson had recovered -her darling cat. Meanwhile, by inanition scientifically graduated, I -succeeded in absorbing his adipose deposit, and found him one of the -kindest subjects I have had the pleasure of manipulating. Be not -alarmed, Miss Vaughan; I have no intention of starving you; neither, if -you behave with courtesy, will I even dissect you. I only mention these -little facts to convince you of our pleasing retirement. The ceiling of -your room is six feet below the level of the street, the walls are three -feet thick and felted, and the bricks set all as headers, which makes a -great difference in conducting power. The windows, as perhaps you have -already observed, are secluded from vulgar eyes, and command a very -partial view of our own little Eden. Moreover, if by exerting your -nobly-developed chest, to an extent which for your sake I affectionately -deprecate, you even succeeded at last in producing an undulation--do you -remember my lecture upon the conflicting theories of sound?--or a -vibration in the tympanum of a neighbour, I fear you would be -regarded--it shocks me greatly to think of it--as a cat of rare vocal -power, unduly agitated by my feeble pursuit of science. Therefore, let -me conclude my friendly counsel in the language of all your -theatres--ah! you have no drama now in this country, such poverty of -invention--but in the words, which I regret to say, appear from six to a -dozen times in every British trugody, Miss Vaughan, 'Be calm.'" - -Through all this brutal sneering, I stood resolutely with my back turned -to him. Perhaps he thought that I would stoop to supplication. I could -have bitten my tongue off for that contemptible shriek; it was such a -triumph to him. - -"Ah! sulky, I fear; young lady sulky with the poor Professor, who tries -to develop her mind. Fie, fie, very small and ungrateful, and not half -so grand a study as the attitude of contempt. What a pity poor Conrad -was not present an hour ago! How he might have enriched his little book -of schemata. Several most magnificent poses. But I fear the poor -fellow has taken his last chip. A sad thing, was it not? Why, how you -start, Miss Vaughan! Oh, you can show your face at last! And how pale! -Well, if eyes could only kill--" - -"What is it--I mean be good enough just to go away." - -"To be sure I will. I have a little matter on hand which must not be -delayed; to leave my carte de visite upon the right man, this time. I -cannot sufficiently thank you for your invaluable information. Is that -snug little entrance practicable still? Very hospitable people they -used to be at Vaughan Park. Fare you well, young lady; I will not keep -you in any unnecessary suspense. After my return, I shall arrange for -your release; if it can be made compatible with my safety. You will -have plenty of food, and much time for meditation. Let your thoughts of -me be liberal and kindly. I never injure any one, when I can avoid it. -I only regret that the air you breathe will impair, for the while, your -roses. But what an opportunity of analysing the gases! Carbonic acid -predominant. Do you gratify me by bearing in mind a lecture, at which -you were very attentive, on Malaria and Miasma?" - -Taunting to the last, and sneering even at himself, as men of the -blackest dye of wickedness are very apt to do, he closed the grating -carefully, and I heard the ring of the metal cross on the rough stone -steps. He had the boots of vengeance on; his errand was stealthy and -cold-blooded murder; me, who had never harmed him, he was abandoning -perhaps to death, certainly to madness--and yet to his own ideas, all he -was doing was right. - -Frantic at the horrors around me, and still more so at those impending -through my own rash folly, I tore and scratched at the solid door, and -flung myself against it, till my nails were broken, and my fingers -bleeding, and all my body palpitating with impotent mad fury. In -weariness at last and shame at this wild outburst, I sat upon the floor, -for I could not touch the operator's stool, and tried to collect my -thoughts. Was there any possibility of saving my poor Uncle? It must -now be nearly four o'clock on the Friday afternoon, or at least I so -computed it. The beautiful watch given me by my Uncle had stopped -through my reckless violence, and the breaking of the glass. The hands, -as I could barely perceive, stood at a quarter to four. The -express-train, by which Mrs. Fletcher and I were to have returned, would -leave Paddington at five P.M. and reach Gloucester soon after eight. -Lepardo Della Croce would catch it easily, and perhaps would accomplish -his foul design that night. My only hope of preventing him lay in his -own tenacity of usage. From my Uncle's account, I knew, that on their -cursed Vendetta enterprises, a certain pilgrimage on foot is, in many -families, regarded as a matter of honour. This usage owes its origin -perhaps to some faint trace of mercy, some wish to afford the evil -passions one more chance of relenting to the milder reflections of -weariness, and the influence of the air. Be that as it may, I believed -that the custom was hereditary in the Della Croce family; and if so, the -enemy would finish his journey on foot, quitting the train some distance -on this side of Gloucester. Therefore if I could contrive to escape in -the course of the night, I might yet be in time. - -All the rest of the daylight, such as it was, I spent in examining, inch -by inch, every part of the loathsome chamber, which was now my dungeon. -By this time all my patience, habitual more than natural, had returned, -and all my really inborn determination and hope. Surely I had been -every bit as badly off before, and had struggled through quite as -hopeless a difficulty. If arduous courage and tough perseverance were of -any avail, those four walls should not hold me, though they might be -three feet thick. So stopping both my nostrils with cotton-wool from a -specimen (for the smell was most insufferable), and pinning up my dress, -I set to work in earnest. First, I examined the windows: there was -nothing to hope from them; I could never loosen a bar, and even if I -could, I should only escape from one prison to another, for the garden -behind the house was surrounded with high dead walls. Fireplace there -was none; the door had already baffled me; could I dig through the party -wall, and into the adjoining house? Most likely it was all a falsehood -and boast about the thickness, intended perhaps to discourage me from -attempting the easiest way. And in so damp a place, the mortar probably -would be soft. - -So, after searching and groping, ever so long, to find, if possible, one -loose brick to begin with, I drew from my pocket a knife, of which I was -very proud, "because my father had given it me; and I looked at it -wistfully in the dusk, because I feared so to break it. Nothing but the -thought that life itself was at stake would ever have induced me to use -that beloved knife for work so very unsuitable. - -It was a knife of strong but by no means elegant make, shorter in the -handle, and squarer in the joints, than the rising generation of knives. -Very likely Sheffield of the present day would laugh at it; but like -most who laugh, it could not produce the fellow. My father himself had -owned it for nearly thirty years, and had treated it with the high -respect which an honest knife deserves. From this due regard his -daughter had not derogated, and the knife was now as good as when it -left the maker's hand. It had never been honed in utter ignorance of -proper plane and angle, as nearly all knives are, and by none so often -as the professional knife-grinder. I never dared to meddle with it, -except on a very mild razor-strap; and all it was allowed to do was to -mend my pens--I, Clara Vaughan, hate steel paper-stabbers--and sometimes -to cut my pencils. - -Now, this true and worshipful knife was to cut bricks and mortar! In my -natural affection for it, I hesitated and trembled, and knowing what was -to come it closed upon my fingers. Oh, ruthless Atta Naevia! trusty -knife, fall to! - -Meanwhile old Cora showed at the heavy grating her countenance demiss; -to all my eager adjurations, promises, and prayers, she answered not a -word, but grimly smiled, like an ancient bird, beyond the reach of -chaff. She handed me in a pint of milk, and a loaf of the variety -termed in London a "twopenny brick." A red herring on the toasting-fork, -dripping with its own unction, was hastily shown, and then withdrawn, -and the gordit appeared in its stead; which being done, the experienced -dame winked, and regarded me deeply. This meant, "Surrender your legal -right in Our Lady's heart, without which I shall have no luck, and I -will give you this beautiful fish, hard-roed, and done to a nicety." Ah -no, sweet Cora, a good red herring is not to be despised; but who could -eat in a reeking hole like this? Once I went, for Judy's sake, being -rash and light of step, into the back premises of a highly respectable -butcher. Woe is me, what I saw and smelt there was Muscat grapes -compared to this. - -When Cora had departed, after handing me in a pillow and a blanket of -the true work-house texture, and crossing herself with a strange -expression, meaning, as I interpreted, "Now keep alive if possible till -breakfast time, young woman," I sat me down upon the floor at one end of -the room, and began my labours. First. I put on a pair of tan-leather -gloves; for small as my vanity is, I do not like my hands to look -altogether like a hodman's. Then I removed a strip of the felt with -which the wall was covered. It was nearly dark, but I could easily feel -the joints between the bricks. The mortar was not very good, but my -work was rendered doubly difficult by the bricks being all set -cross-wise to the line of the wall; this, I suppose, is what he meant -when he described them as "headers." By reason of this arrangement, I -had to dig and dig for hours, before I could loosen a single brick; and -working all in the dark as I was, I feared every moment to break the -stick-blade of my knife. The fingers of my gloves were very soon worn -away, and even the palm where the heel of the knife was chafing; nor was -it long before my skin was full of weals, and raspy, like the knobs I -have seen inside the legs of a horse. At last, to my wonderful delight, -one brick began to tremble. In another half-hour, I eased it out most -carefully, kissed my trusty blade, now worn almost to a skewer, and with -stiff and aching muscles, and the trophy brick upon my lap, fell off -into as sound a sleep as ever I was blest with. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - -When I awoke, the summer dawn was stealing faintly through the -barricaded windows. Oh! how I longed for one draught of air, even as -London imports it! My head was burning and my eyes distended from the -tainted stuff around me, and my hands, and arms, and even shoulders were -stiff from over exertion. Languidly regarding the brick I had worked so -hard for, and commiserating much the plight of my tender hands, I felt -inclined to give it up, till I thought of all at stake. My poor Uncle in -deadly peril through my desperate folly; Conrad too, as that murderer -implied, in a critical position. My own life also--it might be a week -before the monster returned; and I felt sure that I could not live more -than three days in that corruption. The oppression was so horrible, -especially when I stood up, that I resolved at all hazards to break one -of the windows. I had tried to do so the night before, but they were -beyond my reach, and I had no stick, for I durst not touch the poles -that propped the unlucky porpoise. Now, I had a good missile, and after -two or three vain attempts from the closeness of the bars, I hurled the -brick-bat through the glass; and, as it raised the sacks a little, I -obtained more light, as well as a breath of air. The taint upon the -glass, the reek of the deadly gases, even cleared away for a short -distance round the fracture. - -Cora was fast asleep no doubt, and the crash of the glass did not -disturb her; so I fell to again, and worked very hard till breakfast -time. If I could only get out by noon, in time for the two o'clock -train! When I expected my jailor, I hid away under the porpoise the -seven bricks I had removed since daylight--for I could work much faster -as the aperture increased--and then I fastened my blanket over the hole. -After drinking the milk with some relish--eat I could not in that -pestilential den--I returned to my labour, and prepared to attack the -second course in the thickness of the wall. By this time I had -contrived, with the help of a brick, to extract the hold-fast from the -bench, which I could not do the night before; and very useful I found -it, both as a hammer and lever. So with rising hopes, I resumed. - -Oh, cruel disappointment! The second course was bedded in cement harder -than the bricks themselves. Most likely they had formed the outside of -the wall, until Lepardo added the nine-inch lining of headers. I was -utterly dismayed; and now my beloved knife, which had stood like a -hero-martyr all its grinding indignities, broke off short at the haft, -and left me helpless and hopeless. And I was getting on so well, and so -proud of all I had done. There was nothing for it but a storm of -crying. It served me right for ill-treating my dear father's knife so -shockingly. - -I cried for at least a quarter of an hour, before it occurred to me what -a great baby I was. Then, with the tears in my swollen eyes, and sobs -that made my net-pressed bosom sore, I began to grope and peer again -along the sides of my prison. There was more light now than had -hitherto entered, since Cora dropped the curtain. This was partly owing -to the position of the sun, and partly to the interposition of the -brick. Just opposite that window, on a shelf where lay an old Penguin -looking very bilious, I spied the corner of a little box, half covered -with tow and moth-eaten feathers. Snatching it eagerly, I found it to -be a match-box. But alas, how light! With trembling fingers I pulled -it open, for it was one of those that slide. There were three, and only -three, fine stout lucifer matches, with the precious blue still on them. -But even if they should prove dry enough to kindle, what good would they -be to me? - -"All the good in the world," said hope, looking towards the door, "if -you had shown sense enough, Clara, to fall to at that door, before your -knife was broken, you might have cut through it by this time. Now you -can't, that is certain; but why shouldn't you burn it down?" - -At any rate, I would try; that is, if my matches would only strike fire. -I had felt last night a piece of candle on the floor near the crocodile. -This I soon laid hands upon; and now for operations. No fear of old -Cora smelling the smoke, for she spent all the forenoon, as I knew well, -in a little chapel she had established quite at the top of the house; -and this being the festival of St. Bottle-imp, she would be twice as -devout as usual. As for suffocating myself, that I must take the chance -of. Much better to die of curling wood smoke than of these crawling -odours. - -To give the wood, which was hard and solid, every inclination to burn, I -channeled it first in a fan from the bottom with my little pen-blade. -Then I cut off the lower half of my precious candle, and smeared the -tallow in the shallow grooves I had made. This being done, I broke, -with as little noise as possible, some other panes of glass, to admit -the air to my fire, procured all the wool and tow that I could reach, -and a pile of paper, and steeped them, though it sickened me to do it, -in the rank oil from some of the specimens. - -All this being ready at hand, I prepared, with a beating heart, to try -the matches, on which the whole depended. I had taken the precaution of -slipping them just inside my frock, hoping that the warmth of my body -might serve to dry them a little. The first, as I rubbed it on the -sandpaper, flashed for a moment, but did not kindle; the second just -kindled with a sputter, but did not ignite its stick: the third--I was -so nervous that I durst not attempt it then; but trembled as I looked at -it. I would not even breathe for fear of damping the phosphorus. -Perhaps three lives depended on the behaviour of that match. In -desperation at last I struck boldly! a broad blue flame leaped upon the -air, and in a moment my candle was lighted. In the hollow of my hand I -carried it round the room, to search for anything likely to be of -service to me. Oh! grand discovery--behind a great tabby cat, I found a -bottle containing nearly a pint of naphtha, used, I suppose, for -singeing some of the hair off. Now I need not fear, but what I could -burn the door down; the only thing to fear was that I should burn myself -as well, used the naphtha very cautiously, keeping most of it as a last -resource. - -Then commending the result to God, I set my candle carefully at the foot -of the door, just below the spot where all my little grooves converged. -At once the flame ran up them, the naphtha kindling angrily with a -spatter and a hiss. The blue light showed in livid ghastliness all the -horrors of the chamber. The naphtha was burnt in a moment, it seemed to -go off like gunpowder; from a prudent distance I threw more upon it, and -soon I had the delight of seeing a steady flame established. The lumps -of tallow were burning now, and the wood began to smoulder. Several -times I thought that I must be choked by the smoke, till it went in a -cloud to the windows, and streamed away under the sacks. - -As the fire grew and grew, and required no more feeding, I lay on my -face, to get all the air possible, at the further end of the room, where -my loose mortar was scattered. I could feel my heart thumping heavily -on the pavement, and my breath was shorter and shorter, as much from -fear as from smoke. If once I became insensible, or even if I retained -my senses but failed to extinguish the fire, nothing more would ever be -known or heard of Clara Vaughan; there would be nothing even to hold an -inquest upon. I must burn ignobly, in the fat of that dreadful -porpoise, and with the crocodile, and all those grinning beasts, so -awful in the firelight, making faces at me! Surely it must be time, -high time to put it out; that is to say if I could. Once let the flame -gather head on the other side of the door, and with my scanty means I -never could hope to quench it. - -At last, I became so frightened, that I hardly let it burn long enough. -It was flaring beautifully, and licking deeper and deeper (with ductile -wreathing tongues and jets like a pushing crocus), the channels prepared -to tempt it; and now the black wood was reddened, and a strong heat was -given out, and the blazes began to roar; when I cast on the centre -suddenly my doubled blanket, and propped it there with the pillow. -After a few vain efforts, the flames, deprived of air, expired in gray -smoke; then I removed the scorched blanket, and let the smouldering -proceed. - -The charring went on nicely for perhaps a quarter of an hour, and the -smell made me think of bonfires and roast potatoes; and I gouged away -with the claw of the holdfast, until I saw that, by a vigorous onset, a -large piece might be detached; so I stepped back and ran at it with a -mighty kick, and with a shower of dust and sparks, a great triangle flew -out before my "military heel." - -At the risk of setting myself on fire, though gathered in the smallest -possible compass for a girl rather full in the chest, I squeezed through -the hole in the door, and met face to face old Cora. - -She could not speak, but fell back upon the steps, and rolled in fits of -terror. I thought her black eyes would have leaped from their sockets; -they came out like hat-pegs japanned. Pressed as I was for time, I -could not leave her so. I ran up to the pump-trough for water, and put -out the fire first, and then poor Cora's hysterics. - -I cannot repeat her exclamations, to our ears they are so impious; but -the mildest of them were these, as rendered weakly into English. - -"Holy Madonna, most sacred mother, take back your blessed heart. Take -it back, for the sake of the God that loved you, take it back, and -trample on the wicked stomach of her who dared to steal it. You have -come through the fires of hell to fetch it, mother of the beloved one, -lo I hold it out to you." - -I gladly received my poor gordit, and left the old lady, as there was -now no danger, to recover her wits at leisure; for I had not a moment to -spare. - -As I entered Mrs. Shelfer's door, the church clock at the top of the -Square was striking twelve. By the two o'clock train I must go, or I -might as well have stopped in my dungeon. Though the smoke had purified -me a little, I still felt conscious of a nasty clinging smell; but it -would have surprised me, if there had been time, when the little woman -cried, - -"Lor bless my soul, Miss Vaughan, where ever have you been? Why, Mr. -Chumps the butcher--" - -"The bath in one moment, and all the water in the house. And as I throw -my things out, burn them in the garden." - -In twenty minutes I was reclad from head to foot, and as sweet as any -girl in Gloucestershire; my eyes were bright with energy, and my -dripping hair in billows, like a rapid under the pine-trees. I had no -time to tell Mrs. Shelfer, who was off her legs with excitement, one -word of what had happened, or what I was going to do; but flung on -myself another hat and cloak, then her old bonnet and little green shawl -on her, dragged her out of the house, and locked the door behind us; for -Mrs. Fletcher, after waiting and wondering long about me, was gone to -consult Ann Maples. If Mrs. Shelfer's best bonnet was twenty-two years -old, her second-best must have been forty-four; at any rate it appeared -coeval with herself. - -Patty trotted along at my side, wondering what would come next. Her -thin little lips were working, and her face was like a kaleidoscope of -expressions; but whenever I glanced toward her, she cast her eyes up, -with a scared weird look, as if she was watching a ghost through a -skylight, and trudged still faster, and muttered, "Yes, yes, Miss -Vaughan. Quite right, my good friend; not a moment to lose." - -"And pray, Mrs. Shelfer, where do you suppose we are going?" - -"Oh, I knows well enough "--with her eyes like corks drawn by -distance--"I knowed it all the time. Yes, yes. Let me alone for that. -Patty Shelfer wasn't born yesterday. Why only Tuesday was a week--" - -"If you guess right, I will tell you." - -"Why going to Charley, Miss Vaughan, to be sure. Going for Charley's -opinion. And very wise of you too; and what a most every one does; -particular when he have money. But how you knowed he were there--" - -"Where?" - -"At the great wrestling match to be sure. And he wanted to take me; a -thing he ain't offered to do fifteen year next oyster-day. No, no, says -I, with Miss Vaughan away, and most likely among them resurrectioners--" - -Here she cast at me a glance, like a flash of lightning, to see if the -hit had told. In a moment I understood all that I had not cared to ask -about; why she trembled and shrunk from my hand, why she feared to look -at me, and fixed her eyes away so. She believed that I had been burked, -and that what she saw walking beside was my spirit come to claim burial. -I could not stop to disprove it, any more than I could stop to laugh. - -"And his grandfather were a sexton, Miss; and our Charley himself a -first-rate hand at the spade." - -"Mrs. Shelfer, we are close to the place. Now, listen to what I say. -It is not your husband I want, but Farmer Huxtable, whom you saw at the -door. Nothing but a question of life and death would bring me among -this rabble. No doubt there are many respectable men, but it is no -place for a lady. The farmer himself knows that, and has never dared to -ask me; though his wife and daughter, in ignorance, have. It is -half-past twelve exactly; in a quarter of an hour at the utmost, I must -speak to, and what is more, carry off the Devonshire competitor. Your -husband is here, and on the Committee, you told me. I expect you to -manage it. Go in at once and find him. Stop, here is plenty of money." - -In her supreme astonishment, she even dared to look at me. But she -feared to take the money, although her eyes glistened at it, for I -offered more gold than silver. - -"Come back to me at once; I shall not move from here. Mind, if the -farmer loses the match through me, I will pay all, and give the money -for another." - -For once the little woman obeyed me, without discussion. She pushed -through a canvass door into the vast marquee, or whatever it ought to be -called, and was admitted readily on giving her husband's name. I hung -back, but with a sense of the urgency of my case, which turned my shame -into pride. Many eyes were on me already of loungers and outsiders. In -two or three minutes poor Patty came back, bringing Mr. Shelfer himself, -who ever since his ducking had shown me the rose and pink of respect. -He even went the length now of removing his pipe from his mouth. - -"Very sorry indeed, Miss Vaughan, very sorry, you know. But we darrn't -interrupt the men now. Our lives wouldn't be worth it, and they'd kill -both the umpires and the referee too you know. Why it's fall for fall, -only think of that, Miss Vaughan, it's fall for fall!" And the -perspiration stood upon his forehead, and he wanted to run back. - -"What do you mean?" In spite of my hurry, I felt deeply interested. -How could I help it, loving the farmer so? - -"Why, the Great Northern won the first throw by a bit of foul play, a -foul stroke altogether, and no back at all, say I, and my eyes is pretty -good; however, the umpires give it, and you should see John Huxtable's -face, the colour of a scythe-stone; he knew it was unfair you know. And -you should see him go in again for the second fall. 'I could ha dooed -it,' I hear him say, 'I could ha dooed it aisy, only I wudn't try -Abraham, and I wun't nother if can help it now.' None of us knows what -he mean, but in he go again, Miss, and three times he throw Sam -Richardson clean over his shoulder, and one as fair a back as ever was -in sawdust. But the umpires wouldn't give it, till just now he turn him -over straight for'ard, just the same as a sod in a spade, and they -couldn't get out of that. And now they be just in for the finishing -bout, and if you want him, your only way is to come. May be, he'll try -Abraham, when he see you. Ah they've catched." - -A shout inside proclaimed some crisis; Mr. Shelfer, in his excitement, -actually pulled me in without knowing it. Once there, I could not go -back; and the scene was a grand and thrilling one. - -In the centre of a roped arena, hedged by countless faces, all rigid, -flushed, and straining with suspense, stood two mighty forms; the -strongest men in England and perhaps in all the world. A loose sack, or -jerkin, of the toughest canvass, thrown back clear of the throat, -half-sleeved, and open in front, showed the bole of the pollard neck, -the solid brawn of the chest, and the cords of the outstretched arm. -Stout fustian breeches, belted at waist, and strapped at knee, cased -their vast limbs so exactly, yet so easily, that every curve was thew, -and every wrinkle sinew. Thin white stockings, flaked with sawdust and -looking rather wet, rolled and stood out, like the loops of a mace, with -the rampant muscles of the huge calf, and the bulge of the broad -foreleg. - -As the shout proclaimed, they had caught or clutched; a thing which is -done with much fencing and feinting, each foining to get the best grasp. -Where I went, or what happened to me, I never noticed at all, so -absorbed at once I became in this rare and noble probation of glorious -strength, trained skill, and emulous manhood. - -Round and round the ring they went, as in musical measure, holding each -other at arms' length, pacing warily and in distance, skilfully poised -to throw the weight for either attack or defence. Each with his left -hand clutched the jerkin of the other, between the neck and shoulder, -each kept his right arm lightly bent, and the palm like a butterfly -quivering. Neither dared to move his eyes from the pupils of the other; -for though they were not built alike, each knew the strength of his -fellow. The Northern Champion was at least three inches taller than the -Son of Devon, quite as broad in the shoulders and large of limb, but not -so thick-set and close-jointed, not quite so stanch in the loins and -quarters. But he was longer in the reach, and made the most of that -advantage. On his breast he bore the mark of a hug as hard as a bear's; -and his face, though a fine and manly one, looked rather savage and -spiteful. - -The farmer was smiling pleasantly, an honest but anxious smile. For the -first time he had met with a man of almost his own power; and on a turn -of the heel depended at least four hundred pounds, and what was more -than four million to him, the fame of the county that nursed him. Above -them hung the champion's belt, not of the west or north, but of England -and of the world. - -Suddenly, ere I could see how they did it, they had closed in the -crowning struggle. Breast to breast, and thigh to thigh, they tugged, -and strained, and panted. Nothing though I knew of the matter, I saw -that the North-man had won the best hold, and as his huge arms enwrapped -my friend, a tremble went through my own frame. The men of the North -and their backers saw it, and a loud hurrah pealed forth; deep silence -ensued, and every eye was intent. Though giant arms were round him and -Titan legs inlocked, never a foot he budged. John Huxtable stood like a -buttress. He tried not to throw the other; placed as he was, he durst -not; but he made up his mind to stand, and stand he did with a -vengeance. In vain the giant jerked and twisted, levered, heaved, and -laboured, till his very eyeballs strained; all the result was ropes and -bunches in the wide-spread Devonshire calves, and a tightening of the -clench that threatened to crush the Northern ribs. As well might a -coiling snake expect to uproot an oak. - -As this exertion of grand stability lasted and outlasted, shouts arose -and rang alike from friend and foe, from north, and west, and east; even -I could not help clapping my feeble hands. But the trial was nearly -over. The assailant's strength was ebbing; I could hear him gasp for -breath under the fearful pressure. By great address he had won that -hold, and made sure of victory from it, it had never failed before; but -to use a Devonshire word, the farmer was too "stuggy." Now, the latter -watched his time, and his motive power waxed as the other's waned. At -length he lifted him bodily off his legs, and cast him flat on his back. -A flat and perfectly level cast, as ever pancake crackled at. Thunders -of applause broke forth, and scarcely could I keep quiet. - -With amazement the farmer espied me as he was bowing on all sides, and -amid the tumult and uproar that shook the canvass like a lark's wing, he -ran across the ring full speed. Then he stopped short, remembering his -laboured and unpresentable plight, and he would have blushed, if he had -not been as red as fire already. None of such nonsense for me. I called -him by name, took his hand, and with all my heart congratulated. - -"But, farmer, I want you immediately, on a matter of life and death." -Beany Dawe and the children came, but I only stopped to kiss Sally, and -motioned them all away. "If you remember your promise to me, get ready -for a journey in a moment, and run all the way to my lodgings. We must -leave London, at two o'clock, to save my Uncle's life." - -Mr. Huxtable looked astounded, and his understanding, unlike his legs, -for the moment was carried away. Meanwhile up came Sally again, caught -hold of my hand, and silently implored for some little notice, if only -of her costume, violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red. I -could only kiss her again. - -"Oh do come, farmer Huxtable, do come at once, I entreat you; or I must -go alone and helpless." - -"That you shan't, my dearie, dang Jan Uxtable for a girt lout." - -"Please, sir, I am sent to tell you that the umpires gives it no fall, -and you must play again." - -The man looked abased by his errand; even he knew better. In my hurry I -had paid no attention to the ominous hissing and hooting around a knot -of men on the benches at the end. - -The farmer's face I shall never forget; as he slowly gathered the truth, -it became majestic with honest indignation. A strong man's wrath at -deceit and foul play sat upon it, like a king on his throne. - -"For the chillers--" he stammered at last--"ony for the poor chiller's -sake--else I'd never stand it, danged if I wud, Miss Clara; it make a -man feel like a rogue and a cheat himself." - -Then, with all the power of his mighty voice he shouted, so that every -fold of the canvass shook, and every heart thrilled fearfully: - -"Men of Lunnon, if men you be, no chap can have fair play with you. It -be all along of your swindling bets about things you don't know nothing -of. You offered me five hunder pound, afore ever here I come, to sell -my back to the Northman. A good honest man he be, and the best -cross-buttock as ever I met with; but a set of rogues and cowards that's -what you be; and no sport can live with you. As for your danged belt, I -wun't have it, no tino, it wud be a disgrace to the family; it shan't -never go along side the Devonshire and Cornwall leather. But I'll throw -your man over again, and any six of you to once as plases." - -Then, thorough gentleman as he was, he apologized to me for his honest -anger, and for having drawn all eyes upon me, as there I stood at his -side. - -"But never fear about the time, Miss Clara, I won't kape you two -minutes. I'll give him Abraham's staylace this time. They have a drove -me to it, as us hasn't a moment to spare." - -Proudly he stepped into the ring again, and again the North Country -giant, looking rather ashamed, confronted him. No fencing or feinting -this time; but the Devonshire wrestler, appealing thus to the public, - -"Now look here, Lunnoners, wull e, and zee if this here be a back," -rushed straight at his antagonist, grappled him in some peculiar manner, -seemed to get round his back, and then spun him up over his own left -shoulder, in such a way that he twirled in the air and came down dead on -his spine. Dead indeed he appeared to be, and a dozen surgeons came -forward, in the midst of a horrible silence, and some were preparing to -bleed him, when the farmer moved them aside; he knew that the poor man -was only stunned by concussion of the spine. Awhile he knelt over him -sadly, with the tears in his own brave eyes: - -"I wudn't have doed it, lad; indade and indade I wudn't, ony they forced -me to it; and you didn't say nought agin them. It be all fair enough, -but it do hoort so tarble. That there trick was invented by a better -man nor I be, and it be karled 'Abraham Cann's staylace.' I'll show e -how to do it, if ever us mates again. Now tak the belt, man, tak it--" -he leaped up, and tore it down, with very little respect, "I resigns it -over to you; zimth they arl wants you to have it and you be a better man -nor deserves it. And I'll never wrastle no more; Jan Uxtable's time be -over. Give us your hond, old chap. We two never mate again, unless you -comes down our wai, and us han't got a man to bate e, now I be off the -play. There be dacent zider and bakkon to Tossil's Barton Farm. Give us -your hond like a man, there be no ill will atween us, for this here -little skumdoover." Perhaps he meant skirmish and manoeuvre, all in -one. Sam Richardson, slowly recovering, put out his great hand, all -white and clammy, and John Huxtable took it tenderly, amid such -uproarious cheering, that I expected the tent on our heads. Even -Shelfer's sharp eyes had a drop of moisture in them. As for Beany Dawe, -he flung to the winds all dithyrambic gravity, and chanted and danced -incoherently, Cassandra and Chorus in one; while Sally Huxtable blotted -all her rainbow in heavy drops. - -Hundreds of pipes were smashed, even the Stoic Shelfer's, in the rush to -get at the farmer; but he parted the crowd right and left, as I might -part willow-sprays, and came at once to me. Whether by his aid, or by -the sympathies of the multitude, I am sure I cannot tell, but I found -myself in a cab, with Sally at my side, and Mrs. Shelfer on the box, and -the farmer's face at the window. - -"Twenty minutes, Miss, I'll be there, raddy to go where you plases. It -bain't quite one o'clock yet. I must put myself dacent like, avore I -can go with you, Miss; and git the money for the sake of them poor -chiller, if so be they Lunnoners be honest enough to pai. Jan Uxtable -never come to Lunnon town no more." - -With thousands of people hurraing, we set off full gallop for Albert -Street. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - -At the door we found Mrs. Fletcher just returned from Lady Cranberry's, -and eager to say a great deal which could not now be listened to. -Having proved the speed of our horse, I begged the cabman to wait for a -quarter of an hour, and then take us to Paddington at any fare he -pleased, so long as he drove full gallop. This suited his views very -nicely, and knowing Mr. Shelfer, as every one in London does--so at -least I am forced to believe--he fain would have kept me ten minutes of -the fifteen, to tell of Charley's knowingness, how he had kept it all -dark as could be, you see, Miss, and had won three hundred and -twenty-five pounds, without reckoning the odd money, Miss-- - -"Reckon it then, Mr. Cabman," and I ran upstairs full speed, after -telling Mrs. Shelfer the sum, lest she should be cheated. - -In five minutes I was ready, and came out of my bedroom into the -sitting-room, with my hat in one hand, and a little bag in the other; -and there, instead of Mrs. Fletcher, I found, whom?--Conrad! - -Very pale and ill he looked, so unlike himself that I was shocked, and -instead of leaping to him, fell upon a chair. He mistook me, and -approached very slowly, but with his dear old smile: how my heart beat, -how I longed to be in his arms; but they looked too weak to hold me. - -"Oh, Miss Vaughan, I know everything. Will you ever forgive me?" - -"Never, my own darling, while you call me that. Forgive you indeed! Can -I ever forgive myself, for the evil I have thought of you? How very ill -you look! Come and let me kiss you well." - -But instead of my doing that, he had to do it for me; for I was quite -beaten at last, and fainted away in his arms. By this folly five -minutes were lost; and I had so much to say to him, and more to think of -than twenty such heads could hold. But he seemed to think that it must -be all right, so long as he had me there. - -"Oh, Conny," I said through my tears at last, "my own pet Conny, come -with me. Your father is in such danger." - -"Life of my heart, I will follow you by the very next train. This one I -cannot go by." - -I could wait for no explanation, and he seemed inclined to give none. -Perhaps this was the reason that he spent all the time in kissing me; -which, much as I enjoyed it, would have done quite as well at leisure. -Be that as it may, there was no time to talk about it; he said it did -his lips good, and I believe it did, they were so pale at first, and now -so fine a red. Suddenly in the midst of it, a great voice was heard -from the passage: - -"Why now, what ever be us to do with the chillers?" - -Out I ran, with my hair down as usual, and a great flush in my cheeks, -but I did not let any one see me. - -"Leave them here, to be sure, leave them here, Mr. Huxtable. They shall -have my rooms; and in all London they would not find such a hostess as -Mrs. Shelfer." - -There was no time to consider it. The throat of hurry is large, and -gulps almost any suggestion. Away we went full gallop; the farmer was -on the box,--how the driver found room I can't say,--Mrs. Fletcher and I -inside, all consulting her watch every minute. Across the Regent's Park, -scattering the tame wild ducks, past Marylebone Church, and the -Yorkshire Stingo, and Edgware Road--we saved it by just two minutes. -Although I had taken his ticket, the farmer would not come with us, but -went in a second-class carriage. - -"They blue featherbeds trimmed with pig's tails, is too good for the -likes of I, Miss Clara; and I should be afeared all the wai that the -Missus was rating of me for my leg-room. I paid parlour price coming -up, and went in the kitchen waggons, because it zim'd only fair, as I -takes such a dale of room." - -I knew that none ever could turn him from what he considered just, and -therefore allowed him to ride where he pleased. But a dozen times I -thought we should have lost him on the way; for at every station, where -the train stopped, he made a point of coming to our window, which he had -marked with a piece of chalk, and "humbly axing our pardon, but was we -all right and no fire? He couldn't think what they wanted, not he, with -tempting God Almighty fast." Not fast enough for me, I told him every -time; whereupon he put on his hat with a sigh, and said he supposed I -was born to it. And yet all the time he seemed to consider that he was -protecting me somehow, and once he called me his dearie, to the great -surprise of the other passengers, and the horror of Mrs. Fletcher; -seeing which he repented hastily, and "Miss Vaughan'd" me three times in -a sentence, with a hot flush on his forehead. At Swindon, where we -changed carriages, he pulled out very mysteriously from an inner -breast-pocket a little sack tied with whipcord, and in which, I do -believe, the simple soul had deposited all his hard-earned prize-money. -Then he led us to the counter, proud to show that he had been there -before, and earnestly begged for the honour of treating us to a drop of -somewhat. His countenance fell so on my refusal, that I was fain to -cancel it, and to drink at his expense a glass of iced sherry and water; -while Mrs. Fletcher, with much persuasion and simpering, and for the -sake of her poor inside, that had been so long her enemy, ventured on a -"wee wee thimbleful of Cognac." The farmer himself, much abashed at the -splendour around him, which he told me, in a whisper, beat Pewter Will's -out and out, and even the "Fortescue Arms," would not call for anything, -until I insisted upon it; being hard pressed he asked at last, hoping no -offence of the lady, for a pint of second cider. The young woman turned -up her nose, but I soon made her turn it down again, and fetch him, as -the nearest thing, a bottle of sparkling perry. - -As always happens, when one is in a great hurry, the train was an hour -behind its time, and the setting sun was casting gold upon the old -cathedral--to my mind one of the lightest and grandest buildings in -England, though the farmer prefers that squat and heavy Norman thing at -Exeter--when we glided smoothly and swiftly into the Gloucester Station. -I fully intended to have sent an electric message from London, not for -the sake of the carriage, which mattered nothing, but to warn my dear -uncle; at Paddington, however, we found no time to do it, and so stupid -I was that I never once thought of telegraphing from Swindon. To make -up by over alacrity, in a case of far less importance, I went to the -office at Gloucester, and sent this message to Tiverton, then the -nearest Station to Exmoor--"Farmer has won, and got the money. Clara -Vaughan to Mrs. Huxtable." The amazement of the farmer, I cannot stop -to describe. - -No time was lost by doing this, for I had ordered a pair of horses, and -they were being put to. Then, stimulating the driver, we dashed off for -Vaughan St. Mary. Anxious as I was, and wretched at the thought of what -we might find, so exhausted was my frame by the thaumatrope of the last -six-and-thirty hours, that I fell fast asleep, and woke not until we -came to the lodge. Old Whitehead came out, hat in hand, and whispered -something into Mrs. Fletcher's ear. That good old lady had been -worrying me dreadfully about her jams, for the weather was so hot, she -was sure all the fruit would be over, &c., none of which could I listen -to now. As Whitehead spoke, I saw through my half-open lashes that she -started violently; but she would not tell me what it was, and I did not -want to intrude on secrets that might be between them. The farmer also -diverted attention by calling from the box, as we wound into the avenue, -"Dear heart alaive; this bate all the sojers as ever I see, Miss Clara, -or even the melisher to Coom. Why, arl thiccy treeses must a growed so -a puppose, just over again one another, and arl of a bigness too. Wull, -wull! Coachman, was ever you to Davonsheer?" - -I do believe those men of Devon see nothing they admire, without -thinking at once of their county. - -At the front door, the butler met us, which surprised me rather, as -being below his dignity. He was a trusty old servant, who had been -under Thomas Henwood, and had come back to his place since the general -turn-out of the household. Now he looked very grave and sad, and -instead of leading me on, drew me aside in the hall. It was getting -dark, and the fire in the west was dying. Great plumes of -asparagus--shame it was to cut them--waved under the ancient -mantel-piece. - -"Bad news it is, Miss Clara"--they all seemed to call me that--"very bad -news indeed, Miss. But I hope you was prepared for it." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Why, haven't you heard about poor master's death?" - -"Dead, my dear uncle dead! Do you mean to say"--I could not finish the -sentence. - -"No, Miss, only to-day, and not as you thinks; no fit at all, nor -paralyatic stroke. He went off quiet as a lamb, as near as could be -three o'clock. He was very poorly before; but he had a deal to do, and -would not give in on no account. He was sitting by himself in the study -after breakfast, and at last he rang the bell, and told them to send me -up. When I went in, he was bolt upright in his chair, with a beautiful -smile on his face, but so pale, white I ought to say, Miss, and so weak -he could hardly move. 'John,' he says, 'Yes, Sir,' says I; 'John,' he -says again, 'you are a most respectable man, and I can trust you with -anything in the world, John. Take this letter for Miss Vaughan, and put -it with your own hands into her own, directly the moment she comes back. -I am rather uneasy about the poor girl,' he says, as it were to himself. -'Which Miss Vaughan, Sir?' says I. 'Your mistress, John. Can't you see -what is written on it? And now help me upstairs; and if ever I spoke to -you harshly, John Hoxton, I ask your pardon for it. You will find as I -haven't forgotten you.' And with that I helped him upstairs, Miss, and -I had almost to carry him; and then he says, 'Help me to bed, John. I -would like to die in my bed, and it will save some trouble. And let me -look out of the window; what a lovely day it is, it reminds me quite of -the South. So I set him up in the bed, Miss, handy altogether, and -beautiful, and he could see two larks on the lawn, and he asked me what -they was. Then he says, 'Thank you, John, you have done it wonderful -well, and I hope they won't speak evil of me round this place, after I -am gone. I have tried to do my duty, John, as between man and man: -though I would be softer with them, if I had my time over again. Now -send my daughter to me, though I wish I had seen my son, John. But I -ought to be very thankful, and what's more, I am. All of you likes Miss -Lily, unless they tell me stories, John.' 'Sir,' says I, 'we wusships -her, though not like our own Miss Vaughan.'" - -Ah, John Hoxton, did you say that to him, I wonder, or interpolate, _ex -post facto_? - -"So he looked very pleased at that, Miss, and he says again, 'John, let -all that love her know that she is the living image of her mother. Now -go and send her quickly; but John, take care not to frighten my little -darling.' So I went and found Miss Lily got along with the Shetland -pony and giving it bits of clover, and I sent her up and Jane too, for I -was dreadfully frightened, and you away, Miss, at the time. And what -come afterwards I can't tell, only no luncheon went up, and there was -orders not to ring the bell for the servants' dinner; and I heard poor -Miss Lily crying terrible all along the corridor, and I did hear say -that his last words was, and he trying to raise his arms toward the -window, 'Blessed be God, I can see my own Lily,' but she warn't that -side of the bed, Miss; so he must have made some mistake." - -"No. He meant her mother. Where is my cousin now?" - -"In your own room, Miss, lying down, they tell me. She did take on so -awful, Jane thought she would have died. But at last she brought her -round a little, and persuaded her to lie down. She calls for you, Miss, -every time she comes to herself." - -I went straightway to the poor little dear, without even stopping to -read the letter placed in my hands. The room in which she lay was dark; -for Jane, who was watching in my little parlour, whispered to me that -the poor child could not bear the lamp-light, her eyes were so weak and -sore. - -At first Lily did not know me; and it went to my heart, after all my own -great sorrows, to hear the sad low moaning. She lay on my own little -bed, with her pale face turned to the wall, her thick hair all over her -shoulders, and both hands pressed to her heart. Annie Franks had been -many times to ask for her, but Lily would not let her come in. Bending -over I laid my cheek on Lily's, and softly whispered her name. At last -she knew me, and took my hand, and turned her sweet lips to kiss me. -Then she sobbed and cried most bitterly; but I saw that it did her good. -By and by she said, with her fingers among my hair: - -"Oh, Clara, isn't it hard to find him at last, and love him so, and only -for three days, and then, and then--" - -"And then, my pet, to let him go where his heart has been nearly twenty -years. Would you be so selfish as to rob your mother of him? And to go -so happy. I am sure he has. Come with me and see." - -"Oh no, oh no. I cannot." And her lovely young form trembled, at the -thought of visiting death. - -"Yes, you can, if you only try, and I am sure that he would wish it. -That you and I should kneel hand in hand and bless him, as others shall -kneel some day by us. What, Lily afraid of her father! Then I have no -fear of my Uncle." - -God knows that I spoke so, not from harshness, only in the hope to do -her good. - -"If you really think he would wish it, dear--" - -"Yes. It is a duty I owe him. He would be disappointed in me, if I -failed." - -"Oh, how he longed to see you once more, dear Clara, But he felt that -you were safe, and he said you would come to see him, though he could -not see you. He talked of you quite to the last; you and darling -Conny." - -"Conny will be here to-night." - -"No! Oh I am so glad!" and a bright flash of joy shone forth from the -eyes that were red with weeping. Something cold pushed quietly in -between us, and then gave a sniff and a sigh. It was darling Judy's -nose. He had learned in the lower regions, where he always dwelled in -my absence, that Miss Clara was come home; and knowing my name as well -as his own, he had set off at once in quest of me. After offering me -his best love and respects, with the tip of his tongue, as he always -did, he looked from one to the other of us, with his eyebrows raised in -surprise, and the deepest sorrow and sympathy in his beautiful -soft-brown pupils. I declare it made us cry more than ever. - -"Oh, Clara," sobbed Lily at length, "he did howl so last night. Do you -think he could have known it?" - -His eyes dropped, as she was telling me. They always did, when he -thought he had been a bad dog. - -"Now go down, Judy; good little Judy, go to Mrs. Fletcher. A great -friend of mine is with her." - -Away he trotted obediently, and his tail recovered its flourish before -he had got to the corner. - -"Now, darling, let us go there," said the poor child, trembling again. -"I would go anywhere with you." - -Hand in hand we walked into my Uncle's chamber. Young as I was, and -still thoughtless in many ways, twice before now had I gazed on the -solemn face of death; but never, not even in my mother's holy -countenance, saw I such perfect peace and bliss as dwelt in and seemed -to smile from my dearest Uncle's lineaments. The life, in youth puffed -here and there by every captious breeze of pride, in its prime becalmed -awhile on the halycon deep of love, then tempest-tossed through the -lonely dark, and shattered of late by blows from God, that life whose -flaw of misanthropy and waste of high abilities had been redeemed, -ennobled even, by a pure and perfect love--now it had bidden farewell to -all below the clouds, calmly, happily, best of all--in faith. - -We knelt beside the bed and prayed--Lily as a Catholic, Clara as a -Protestant--that we, and all we loved, might have so blest an end. Then -we both sat peacefully, with a happy awe upon us, in the dark recess -behind the velvet curtains. Two wax candles were burning on the table -towards the door, and by their light the face we loved, looked not wan, -but glorious, as with a silver glory. - -Clasping each the other's waist, and kissing away each other's tranquil -tears, how long we sat there I know not, neither what high fluttering -thoughts, thoughts or angels, which be they--stealthily a door was -opened, not the door of heaven, not even the main door of the room we -sat in, but a narrow side-door. Through it crept, with crawling -caution, he whom most of all men I now despised and pitied. Lily did -not hear his entrance, neither did she see him; but my eyes and ears -were keen from many a call of danger. Stunned for a while by the heavy -blow, that met me on my return, I had forgotten all about him; I mean, -at least, all about his present design. I had indeed told the farmer, -for it was only fair to do so, my object in bringing him down; and how I -relied on his wonderful strength and courage, having then no other to -help me; but since I got home, and heard the sad tidings, it seemed a -mere thing for contempt. Not even Lepardo Della Croce could catch a -departed spirit. So, and in the landslip of the mind, sapped by its -own, and sliding swiftly into another's sorrow, I had not even ordered -that the house should be watched at all; I had not even posted Giudice, -who had a vendetta of his own, anywhere on guard. - -With a stiletto still concealed, all but the handle on which the light -fell, he approached the bed, wriggling along and crouching, as a cat or -leopard would. Then he rose and stood upright at the side of the bed, -not our side but the other, and glared upon his intended victim's face. -I pushed Lily back behind the curtain as if with the weight of my bosom, -while I watched the whole. Never in all my tempestuous life, of all the -horrible things I have seen, and heard, and shuddered at, saw I anything -so awful, so utterly beyond not only description, but conception, as -that disdainful, arrogant face, when the truth burst on him. Not the -body only, but the mind and soul--if God had cursed him with one--were -smitten back all of a lump, as if he had leaped from a train at full -speed into a firing cannon's mouth. Before he had time to recover, I -advanced and faced him. All dressed in white I was, with my black hair -below my waist, for I had thrown off my travelling frock, and taken what -first came to hand. They tell me I look best in white, it shows my hair -and eyes so. - -He believed that it was a spirit, the Vendetta spirit of the other side; -and he cowered from me. I was the first to speak. "Lepardo Della -Croce, it is the rebuke of heaven. Dust upon ashes; such is man's -revenge. I have nursed, but scorn it now. Go in peace, and pray the -Almighty that He be not like you. Stop; I will show you forth. You -have a vindictive foe here, who would tear you to atoms." - -I led the way, trembling at every corner lest we should meet Giudice; -for I knew he would not obey me, if he once caught sight of this hated -one. After standing silently, unable to take his eyes from the placid -face of the dead, Lepardo began to follow me, walking as if in a dream. -Meeting none, I led him forth along the corridor, down the end -staircase, and out on the eastern terrace. There I waved him off, and -pointed to the dark refuge of the shrubbery, beyond the mineral spring. -The moonlight slept upon the black water narrowly threading the grass. -Over our heads drooped the ivy, the creeper of oblivion. The murderer -turned and looked at me; hitherto he had glided along with his head -down, as in bewilderment. Oh that he had said one word of sorrow or -repentance! He spoke not at all; but shuddered, as the ivy rustled -above us. His face was pale as the moonlight. Did he see in me -something higher than the spirit of Vendetta? - -I pointed again to the trees, and urged him away from the house. He had -two strong enemies there; a minute might make all the difference. -Breaking as if from a spell, he waved his Italian cap, and his lithe -strong figure was lost among the Portugal laurels. For a minute I stood -there, wondering; then slowly went round the house-corner, and gazed at -the grey stone mullions of the room which had been my father's. - -I was still in the anguish of doubt and misgiving--what right had an -ignorant girl like me to play judge and jury, or more, to absolve and -release a crime against all humanity?--when a mighty form stood beside -me, and Giudice, all bristle and fire, dashed forth from the door in the -gable. With command and entreaty I called him, but he heard me not, -neither looked at me; but scoured the ground like a shadow, quartering -it as a pointer does, only he carried his nose down. - -"Dang my slow bones," said the farmer, "but I'll have him yet, Miss. I -seed him go, I'll soon find him." - -"No, no. I won't have him stopped. He shall go free, and repent." - -"By your lave, Miss, it can't be. A man as have done what he have, us -has no right to play buff with. Never before did I go again your will, -Miss; but axing your pardon, I must now. Look, the girt dog know -better." - -As the dog found the track and gave tongue, the farmer rushed from me -and followed him, dashing headlong into the shrubbery, after leaping the -mineral spring, at the very spot where the footprints had been. Judy and -Farmer Huxtable were fast friends already; for that dog always made up -his mind in a moment on the question of like and dislike. - -For a time I was so horror-struck, that no power of motion was left. I -knew that the farmer was quite unarmed, he carried not even a stick. -Even with the great dog to help him, what could he do against fire-arms, -which Lepardo was sure to have? What should I say to his wife and -children, what should I say to myself, if John Huxtable fell a victim to -that wily and desperate criminal? - -Resolved to be present, if possible, I rushed down the narrow path which -led to the little park-gate, where probably they would pass. I was -right: they had passed, and flung it wide open. Breathless I looked -around, for hence several tracks diverged. No living thing could I see -or hear, but the beating of my heart, which seemed to be in my throat, -and the hooting of an owl from the hollow elm at the corner. I flung -myself down on the dewy grass, and strained my eyes in vain; until by -some silver birch-trees on which the moonlight was glancing, I saw first -a gliding figure that looked like a deer in the distance, then a tall -man running rapidly. Away I made by a short cut for the "Witches' -grave," as the end of the lake was called, for I knew that the path they -were on led thither. Quite out of breath I was, for I had run more than -half a mile, when I came full upon a scene, which would have robbed me -of breath if I had any. At the end of a little dingle, under a -willow-tree, and within a few feet of the water, stood Lepardo Della -Croce, brought to bay at last. A few yards from him, Giudice was -struggling furiously to escape the farmer's grasp; perhaps no other hand -in England could have held him. His eyes kindled in the moonlight, like -the red stars of a rocket, and a deep roar of baffled rage came from the -surge of his chest, as he champed his monstrous fangs, and volleyed all -the spring of his loins. The farmer leaned backward to hold him, and -stayed himself by a tree-stump. - -"Sharp now, surrender, wull e, man. In the name of of the Quane and the -Lord Chafe Justice, and the High Shariff of Devon, I tell e -surrender--dang this here dog--surrender, and I 'ont hoort e; and I 'ont -let the girt dog." - -Lepardo answered calmly, in a voice that made my blood cold: - -"Do you value your life? If so, stand out of my way. I have death here -for you, and five other dogs." - -I saw the barrel of a large revolver, with a stream of light upon it. -He held it steadily as a tobacco-pipe. I am glad he owned some courage. -For my life, I could not stir. All the breath in my body was gone. - -"Dear heart alaive. Thiccy man must be a fule," said the farmer quite -contemplatively. "Don't e know who I be? Do e reckon they peppermint -twistesses can hurt Jan Uxtable? I seed ever so many in a smarl shop -window to Lunnon. Surrender now wull e, thou shalt have fair traial to -Hexeter, as a Davonshire man have took e, and a dale more nor e -desarves. Sharp now: I be afeared of the girt dog getting loose. Dang -you dog. Ston up a bit." And the farmer approached him coolly, -trailing the dog along; as if what the murderer held in his hand was a -stick of Spanish liquorice. - -"Fool, if you pass that stump, your great carcase shall lie on it." - -"Fire away," said the farmer, "I knowed you was a coward, and I be glad -it be so. Now mind, if so be you shuts, I lets the dog go, honour -braight, because e dunno what fair play be. But if e harken to rason, -I'll give e one chance more. I'll tie up the dog with my braces to -thiccy tree--allers wear cart rope I does--and I'll tak e Quane's -prisoner, with my left hond, and t'other never out of my breeches -pocket; look e, zee, laike thiccy." - -And the farmer buried his right hand in his capacious trowsery. The -Corsican seemed astonished. - -"Fool-hardy clown, worthy son of a bull-headed country, stop at the -stump--then, take that." - -Out blazed the pistol with a loud ring, and I saw that the farmer was -struck. He let go the dog, and leaped up; his right hand fell on -Lepardo's temple, and seemed to crush the skull in,--another shot at the -same instant and down fell the farmer heavily. "Great God," I screamed, -and leaped forward. But Giudice was loose to avenge him, though I could -swear that it was on a corpse. Corpse or living body, over and over it -rolled, with the dog's fangs in its throat. I heard a gurgle, a -tearing, and grinding, and then a loud splash in the water. The dog, and -the murderer, both of man and dog, sunk in the lake together. Twenty -feet out from the shore rose above water one moment, drawn ghastly white -in the moonbeams, the last view seen till the judgment-day of the face -of Lepardo Della Croce. - -Almost drowned himself--for he would not release his father's murderer, -while a gasp was in him--staggered at last to the shore my noble and -true dog Giudice. He fell down awhile, to recover his breath, then -shook himself gratefully, tottered to me, where I knelt at the farmer's -side, and wagged his tail for approval. The water from his chest and -stomach dripped on the farmer's upturned face, and for a moment revived -him. - -"No belt, no tino lad, I 'ont tak' it. Zimth laike a ticket for -chating. I dunno as I'd tak' the mony, if it warn't for the poor -chillers, naine chillers now, and anither a-coomin. Mustn't drink no -more beer, but Beany shall have his'n." And his head fell back on my -lap, and I felt sure that he was dead. How I screamed and shrieked, -till I lay beside him, with Judy licking my face, none can tell but the -gamekeepers, who had heard the shots, and came hurrying. - -Of this lower end of the lake they happened to be most jealous; for a -brood of pintail ducks, very rare I believe in England, had been hatched -here this summer, and no one was allowed to go near them. Poor Judy -kept all the men aloof, till I was able to speak to him. Then I -perceived that he as well was bleeding, wounded perhaps by the poniard -as he leaped on his enemy's breast. It had entered just under the -shoulder, and narrowly missed the heart. - -They took us at once towards the house, carrying the farmer and Judy on -the wooden floodgates of the stream called the "Witches' brook," which -here fell into the lake. As we entered the avenue, being obliged to -take the broad way, though much further round, we heard a carriage -coming. It was the one I had sent for Conrad, with a hurried note to -break the sad news of his father's death. He had been detained in -London by a challenge he found from Lepardo; which was of course a -stratagem to keep him out of the way. How delighted I was to see his -calm brave face again, as he leaped down, and took my tottering form in -his arms. In a minute he understood everything, and knew what was best -to be done. He would not allow them to place the poor farmer in the -carriage, as they foolishly wanted to do; but laid the rude litter down, -examined the wounds by the lamplight, and bound them up most cleverly -with the appliances of the moment. - -"Oh, Conrad, will he die?" - -"No, my darling, I hope not; but he must if they had let him bleed so -much longer." - -"I never heard that you were a surgeon, Conny." - -"Could I call myself a sculptor, without having studied anatomy? My -dearest one, how you tremble! Go home in the carriage, and give -directions for us. A room downstairs, with a wide doorway, and plenty -of air. I will stay with them, and see that they bear him gently. Poor -Judy may go with you." - -Thus Conrad saw for the first time the hearth and home of his ancestors, -with his father lying dead there, and his avenger carried helpless. But -I met him at the door. Did that comfort you just a little, my darling? - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - -The lake was dragged that night, and all the following day, in spite of -the gamekeeper's strong remonstrance for the sake of the tender -pintails. But nothing whatever was found, except the Italian cap. The -"Witches' grave," invisible I am glad to say from the house, is more -than forty feet deep, when the water is at its lowest. Three or four -years afterwards young William Hiatt caught a monstrous pike in the -lake, and sent him, with our permission, to be stuffed at Gloucester. -Like the famous fish of Samos, this pike had swallowed a ring, which was -sent to Conrad by the Gloucester gun-maker. It was Lepardo's seal-ring, -the cross of the family engraved on a bloodstone, with L.D.C. below it. - -Whether the midnight stabber died by the blow of an English fist, or -suffered vivisection through a dog's vendetta--an institution more -excusable and dignified than man's--is known to Him, and Him alone, who -holds the scales of retribution, and laughs in scorn as well as wrath at -our attempts to swing them. For are we not therein ourselves; and how -shall the best and strongest of us carry the thing he is carried in? -Right glad I am, and ever shall be, that I moved not in the awful scene, -which closed my father's tragedy. - -Through Conrad's skill and presence of mind, the dear farmer's life was -saved. We sent to Gloucester immediately for the cleverest surgeon -there; and he owned that he could not have fixed the ligatures better, -though he did what Conny durst not attempt, he extracted the murderer's -bullet. It was the first shot that did all the mischief, being aimed -deliberately at the large and tender heart. Thanks to the waving of the -willow-tree, for Lepardo was a known marksman, it had missed by about -two inches. The second shot, fired quite close and wildly, had grooved -the left temple, and stricken the farmer senseless. - -For six weeks now our dear friend, whose patience amazed all but me, was -kept from his Devonshire home. To London I sent at once for the two -children and Mr. Dawe, and would have sent to Devon as well, for kind -and good Mrs. Huxtable, but her husband would not hear of it. By Ann -Maples, who had left Lady Cranberry "shockingly," on hearing from Mrs. -Fletcher that I would take her again, he sent to his wife "kind love and -best duty, and for goodness' sake, stop at home now. No call to make a -fule of yourself, and the farm go to rack and ruin. There be fuss -enough 'bout I already, and never I brag no more, when a pill like -thiccy upsot me. But Miss Clara, God bless her bootiful eyes, she nurse -me, just as if she wor my own darter, with the apron on as you give her. -And you should see the kitchen, Honor, you loves a kitchen so; they be a -bilin and roastin arl day, and they be vorced to swape the chimbley -three times in a vortnight"--the rest of this glorious message, about -three pages long, I am "vorced" to suppress; I only hope Ann Maples -remembered a quarter of it. - -But his wonderful Miss Clara did not nurse him long. Hearing from the -surgeon that all the danger was over by the end of the following -week--so strong was the constitution--Conrad, Lily, and I set sail for -Corsica on our melancholy errand. In that letter, which seemed to come -to me from the grave, my poor Uncle after expressing his joy and deep -gratitude at so happy a close to his life, continued thus:-- - -"Yes, my dear child, the close of my wasted and weary life. You may be -surprised and perplexed at what I am about to tell you; but you are not -one of those low-minded ones, who condemn as superstition all beyond -their philosophy. The very night after you brought me my new Lily, a -sweet thing just like her mother, I lay for some hours awake, broad -awake as I am now. I was thinking of my two Lilies, the lovely and -loving creatures. I was not in the least excited, but calm, reflective, -and happy. Soon after the clock struck two, at the time when our life -burns lowest, I heard a soft voice, sweet as the music of heaven, call -me by name three times. Of course I knew whose it was: too often that -voice had murmured upon my bosom, for me not to know it now. Not -rashly, but with a mind long since resolved, I answered: 'Sweetest -mine'--her own artless and young endearment--'Sweetest mine, no longer -will I keep you lonely.' No answer came in words; but the light, the -golden light of my own love's smile, as I had seen it in Corsica, when -she came from the grave to comfort me. And now, as after that visit, I -fell into deep and perfect rest, such rest as comes but rarely until the -sleep of all. No wonder you and Lily thought me so strong next day. In -the morning I knew and rejoiced in my quick departure. This cold -obstruction was to be cast aside, this palsied frame to release the -winged soul. On the third day I was to find and dwell with my Lily for -ever. So on the first day I enjoyed the harmless pleasures of life, and -could not bear you to leave me, because that would have turned them to -pain. The second day I got through all the business that still -remained, refreshing its dryness often with my sweet child's society. -On this, the third, I write to you, and am, through the grace of God, as -calm and content, nay more content than if I were going to bed. - -"Beloved daughters both, and my dear son as well, I implore you not to -grieve painfully for me. Too well I know the weight of excessive -sorrow, and how it oppresses the lost one, even more than the loser. -Since the parting is so brief, the reunion so eternal, why make the -interval long and dreary by counting every footstep? - -Alas, it is easy to talk and think so, but very hard to feel it. Time -demands his walk with sorrow, and will not have his arm dispensed with. -Then think of my happiness, darlings, and how your own will increase it. - -Only one more request, which after Ciceronian sentiments--which Cicero -could not practise--you are all too young not to wonder at. If you, my -three children, can manage it, without any heavy expense, or much -trouble to yourselves, it is my last wish as regards the body, that it -should lie by the side of my wife's. The name of the little church, St. -Katharine's on the Cliff, can scarcely have escaped my Clara's excellent -memory. Lily lies beside her father, in the right-hand corner towards -the sea. Each of them has a cross of the Signor's alabaster, made from -my own design. Lily's is enough for me: put my name with hers." - -Not only did we look upon his last fond wish as sacred, but we -accomplished it in the manner that was likely to please him most. We -put his own "Lilyflower," the little love-boat as they called it, into -commission again, engaged a good captain and crew, and taking old Cora -with us, set sail from Gloucester for the Mediterranean. Poor Cora was -now all devotion to Conrad and Lily, ever since she had found that they -were lawful blood and direct heirs of the Della Croce. The more recent -part of the family story she had known only from her master's version, -and had set little store by the children as bearing the stamp of -disgrace; though she could not help loving sweet Lily. Now, by her -evidence, coupled with my dear Uncle's deposition, his relics, and -documents, and my own testimony, confirmed by Balaam and Balak, we -established very easily the birth and the claims of my Uncle Edgar's -children; and the old Count Gaffori, most venerable of signors, would -have kept us a month at least to go through all his accounts. He was -entreated to retain his position as the guardian of our Lily. - -So far as our recent sorrow permitted enjoyment of scenery, we were all -enchanted with the Balagna. At the funeral of "Signor Valentine," whose -name was still remembered and loved, nearly all the commune was present; -and many a dignified matron shed tears, who had smiled as a graceful -girl, and strown flowers, at his wedding. They were burning with -curiosity to see our beautiful Lily, for the tender tale had moved them, -as Southern natures are moved; and many of them had loved and gloried in -her mother. - -But in spite of all this desire, not a prying glance fell on her, as she -bowed in the hooded robe, and wept to the mournful vocero. Foremost of -all stood old Petro and Marcantonia, who had found out and kissed with -sobs of delight their beloved master's daughter. For my part, I loved -the Corsicans; there is something so noble and simple about the men, so -graceful, warm-hearted, and lady-like in the women; and in a very short -time I could understand more than half they said. The black Vendetta, -they told me, was dying out among them, and in a few years would be but -a wonder of the past. God in His mercy grant it. - -There must have been something surely in my Uncle Edgar's nature, which -won the Southern hearts, as my father won British affections. Such -things I cannot explain, or account for. I only know and feel them. - -We were all back at Vaughan St. Mary before the end of August, and found -the farmer, the two chillers, and Beany Dawe as happy as if they were -born and reared there. Old Cora was left at Veduta Tower; and having -obtained Mr. Dawe's permission I presented her once and for all with the -whole treasure of the gordit. She intends, however, to bequeath it to me -in her will. Soon afterwards Conrad gave her a more substantial -blessing; for he sold the things left in Lucas Street, under letters of -administration, as being the next of kin. All the proceeds he handed -over to Cora, except one-tenth, which he presented to the Society for -the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. As many of the specimens, -iguanodon, and other monsters, fetched prices as hard to explain away as -themselves, poor Cora was amply provided for: all which of course she -attributed to the holy Madonna's heart. And now at last I understood -how 19, Grove Street had become No. 37, Lucas Street. The change of -number I have already explained; the change of name was on this -wise:--The builder, a rising man, who had bought the old part of the -street, and built thereto the new one, had a son, a fine undergraduate, -better skilled in the boats than in the books of Oxford. Reading hard -one day, after his third pluck, this young man discovered that lucus was -the Latin for grove. He smote his hand on his forehead, and a great -idea presented itself. Had there not been both nymphs and philosophers -of the grove? The street that was his inheritance should be -distinguished by nomenclature from the thousand groves of London, -wherein the nightingale pipeth not, neither--but I am getting poetical, -and don't understand the Gradus. Enough, that he wrote at once and -earnestly to his father, forgetting the vivid description, which was now -growing stale, of his pluck--a result secured, as the Winchester -gentlemen tell me, by learning too solid to carry--but begging that his -Oxford career might at least be commemorated in and by the street that -paid his bills there. "Lucus" he wrote plainly enough, and in very -large letters, but the father read it "Lucks." No, said the mother, she -was sure Alexander never meant such a low thing as that, it was "Lucas" -of course; why the Lucases were her own cousins, and Rosa such a nice -girl, she saw how it was, that she did, and Alexander might have done -worse. And so it was painted most bravely "Lucas Street," and the -builder wasn't going to make a fool of himself, when Alexander -protested. - -When John Huxtable set off for home, just in time to see to his harvest, -which is always late round Exmoor, I kissed him--ay, Conny, you saw -it--and thrust, during his amazement, something far down into his mighty -pocket, which something he was not upon any account to look at until he -got home. It was a deed, prepared by our solicitors, presenting him -with the fee simple of Tossil's Barton farm. True, I was not of age, -but I signed it as if I had been, and Conny and I again signed it, when -we paid our first visit there. Perhaps, in strict law, it binds not my -interest even now; but if ever any one claiming "by, from, through, -under, or in trust for" me, forgets the Vaughan honour and dares to -dream of that farm, I'll be at him as sure as a ghost; and I trust -before that time comes, the farmer will have sound title by immemorial -years of possession. He is now a prosperous man; and has never found it -necessary to give up his beer, as he threatened Young John, who is just -like his father, cleaves fast to Tabby Badcock, now a blooming maiden; -but my Sally has more than balanced that imminent loss of caste, by -fixing the eyes and transfixing the heart of George Tamlin, the son of -our principal tenant, and himself of Devonshire origin. The young lady -comes to and fro every six weeks, and is to be married from our house, -when her father considers her "zober enough." Beany Dawe, who does not -like work, still lives at Tossil's Barton, and is in receipt of a -pension of sixpence a day from Government, as a bard at last -appreciated. - -As for me, Clara Vaughan, on the very day after that which released me -from my teens (counting forward, as we do, till we count receding -years), to wit on the 31st of December, 1851, I did not change my name, -but wrote it in the old church register, half an inch below a better and -firmer hand. There was no fuss or frippery; no four clergymen and ten -bridesmaids simpering at one another. Our good vicar represented the -one class, dear Lily and Annie Franks the other. My godfather, newly -disclosed for the purpose, gave me away very gracefully, and young Peter -Green helped Conrad. Lily Vaughan looked so exquisite, so deliciously -lovely, that nobody in the whole world--Now Conny, hold your tongue, I -never fish for compliments, don't degrade yourself so for a kiss, of -course I know all my perfections, but how can I care about them, when -you say they belong to you?--Lily Vaughan, I say once more, was such a -sunrise of loveliness, that young Peter Green, just new from his Oxford -honours, collapsed, and fell over the railings, and wedged his head in -the "piscina," or whatever those nice young gentlemen, who see the duty -of wearing strait waistcoats, are pleased to denominate it. - -Ah, Little Distaff Lane, most unconnubial title, ah firm of Green, -Vowler, and Green, your Hercules holds the distaff, and holds it, alas, -in his heart! From that shock he never recovered, until we had at -Vaughan Park a really merry wedding; and I, ah me, I could not dance -just then, but I showered roses upon them, for the shadow of death was -past. Old Mr. Green,--nay, nay, not fifty yet, by our Lady,--Mr. Peter -Green the elder, came down here for the occasion, and I hardly ever took -such a fancy to any man before. He seemed to know almost everything, -not by the skin, as Dr. Ross seemed to hold things, but by the marrow -and fibrine of their alimentary part. And withal such a perfect -gentleman: he kept in the horns of his knowledge, instead of exalting -them, and making us wish for hay on them, while tossed in headlong -ignorance. - -Scant as I am of space, I must tell how he behaved, when his son -revealed his attachment. - -"Is it a lady, Peter?" "I should rather think she is, father." "Do you -love her with all your heart?" "Of course I do, every bit. I am tough, -but I know I shall die, unless--" "That will do, my son. You have my -full consent, and your mother's is sure to follow. Most likely you got -it beforehand. You young fellows are so deep. Let me kiss your -forehead, my boy, although I am not dramatic." - -Having behaved so nobly, for this boy was his only hope, he deserved to -find, as he did, that if he had searched the world he could not have hit -upon any other so desirable for his son, as the daughter of his old -friend. The only mistake he has made is that he so adores her, he -cannot bear her to be in Corsica; though the trade they conduct is worth -at least fifty thousand a year. When Lily fell in love, I told her that -it was because she had an eye for the olives; and olives enough the -darling has, I trow, and olive branches too. The eldest is called Clara. -"Clara Green!" I don't like the sound altogether; but the substance is -something beautiful, and the freshest of all Spring verdure. -Nevertheless, my Clara is an inch larger round the calf, and I think her -eyelashes are longer. Her hair weighs more, that is certain. We -compare them very often; for they live only half the year at Veduta -Tower. In the summer heats they are here, and the children between -them, my own every bit as bad, leave dear Annie Elton (Annie Franks of -old), uncommonly few British Queens. It is all Mr. Shelfer's fault. -What is the use of a gardener, if he allows dessert all the day long? - -Every autumn we go to Corsica to help at the olive harvest, and rarely -we enjoy it. The Old Veduta Tower is like a nest in the ivy, chirruping -with young voices; and the happy sleep of the two who loved so well is -dreaming, if dream it can or care to do, of the fairest flowers in -Europe, scattered there by little soft hands. Conny is wild every time -about the Rogliano and Luri; and if Peter Green listens to him--which -every one does, except me--he will introduce, very slowly of course, -those fine-bodied yet aerial wines to the noble British public, that -loves not even intoxication, unless it be adulterated. - -Oh, queer Mrs. Shelfer, oh Balaam and Balak, shall I pretermit your -annals? The two Sheriff's officers, having secured their reward, set up -therewith a public-house called the "Posse-Comitatus," which soon became -the head quarters of all who are agents or patients in the machinery of -levying. As at such times all people drink and pay more than double, -the public-house has already a Queensbench-ful of good-will. - -Poor Mrs. Shelfer and Charley did not invest the 325*l.* altogether -judiciously: at least, it went mainly to purchase "eternal gratitude," -whose time does not begin to run till the purchaser's is over. But -Patty, I am glad to say, has still that 30*l.* a year of her own, left -to her in the funds by good and grateful Miss Minto. "Can't touch it, my -good friend, not the Queen, the Lord Mayor, and all the royal family. -Government give their bond for it, on parchment made of their skins, and -the ink come out of their gall." Be this as it may, what is much more -to the purpose is that Mr. Shelfer cannot touch it. And now I have -pride in announcing, for I never expected such glory, that all the cats -and birds, squirrels, mice, and monkeys, live, like the happy family, in -our northern lodge, where Patty is most useful and happy as the Queen of -the poultry. In a word, they keep the gate, not of their enemies, but -of old and grateful friends. I expected to see at least a leading -article in the "Times," when Mr. Shelfer left the metropolis; but they -let him go very easily for the sake of the discount market. They gave -him only two-and-twenty dinners; but when he first came to Vaughan Park, -how he wanted country air! Now he attends to the wall-trees, and the -avenue, and I hope finds harmony there. At any rate, he never breaks it -by any undue exertion. Nevertheless, his very long pipe is of some -account with the green fly, which has been very bad on our peaches, ever -since they repealed the corn laws. Mr. Shelfer, accordingly, is -compelled to spend half his time in smoking them. "Wonderful nice they -do taste, Miss Clara; you'd be quite surprised, you know. Wonderful -good, Miss, and werry high-flavoured you know, when they begins to fry." - -"Come, come, Mr. Shelfer, I fear you cultivate them for their flavour. -There are ten times as many of them, I see, as of peaches on the trees. -And you charge me every week five shillings for tobacco." - -"To be sure, Miss Clara. Shows a fine constitooshun, you know. And -dreadful hard work it is to have to smoke so much, you know. And then -the sun will come on the wall, and only a quart of beer allowed all the -afternoon. And sometimes they makes me go for it myself, you know! -Indeed they does, Miss, they has such cheek here in Gloucestershire!" - -Patty brought all her sticks of course, in spite of the twenty-five -bills of sale, which by this time had grown upon them. One whole -roomful was packed in the duplicate inventories. The law on this -subject she contemplated from a peculiar point of view. - -"Lor, Miss, I never grudges 'em. They do cost a bit at the time; but -see how safe they makes them. If it wasn't for them I should be -frightened out of my wits of thieves, down here where the trees and all -the green grocery is, worse than the Regency Park. Bless me, I never -should have gone out of doors, Miss, if you hadn't pulled me. And to -see the flowers here all a-growing with their heads up as bootiful as a -bonnet. Pray, my good friend, is that what they was made for, if I may -be so bold?" - -"No, Patty, not for bonnets. They were made for the bees and the -butterflies, and for us to enjoy them, while they enjoy themselves." - -"Well, I never. Pray, Miss, did I tell you Uncle John's come home, and -they only ate a piece of his shoulder for they found his belt was -tenderer; and he put the glazing on it the same as they wears on their -hats, and three cork pins to hold it, and he find it werry convenient, -it save so much rheumatism: and he'll be here next week to convict the -man that made his wife swallow the tea-pot. Dear, dear, what things -they does do in the country. Not a bit like Christians. And so, Miss -Clara, the old man won't drop off after all; and Uncle John a-coming, -how nice it would have been." - -The old man was poor Whitehead, whose lodge Mrs. Shelfer coveted, as it -was larger and livelier than her own. - -"No, Mrs. Shelfer, I think he will get over it. Surely you would not -wish to hurry him." - -"To be sure, my good friend; no, no: let him have his time, I say. But -he would have had it long ago, if he had any reason in him. What good -can he do now, holding on with his eyebrows? Please God to let him go -in peace; and so much happier for us all." - -When Uncle John appeared, he scolded me for my want of intelligence on -the night when I was blinded. Of the four men in that room, the one whom -I had noticed least was the very one whom he had meant me especially to -observe. At least, so he said; but I fully believed, and did not -scruple to tell him, that he had discovered little beyond the -information and description given at the time by Mr. Edgar Vaughan. -These he had disinterred from the archives of Bow Street and Whitehall, -and was then trying to apply them. However, I forgave him freely; -inasmuch as, but for my blindness, even blind love would have known me -as an objectionable being. - -And now I come to a real grievance. When there is another Miss -Clara--such a beauty! I can't tell you--and a little Harry, for whose -sake this tale is told--why will every one on these premises, even the -under-gardener's boy, persist in calling me "Miss Clara?" It makes me -stamp sometimes, and such a bad example that is for my children. Dear -me, if either of my ducklings were to carry on as I did at their age, I -would cut down immediately the largest birch-tree on the property, and -order a hogshead of salt. But, to return to that contumely--is it to be -suspected that I was more forcible and pronounced, in the days of my -trial and misery, than now when I am the happiest of all the young -mothers of England? "Come, Conny, tell the truth now, don't I keep you -in order?" - -"My own delight, I should think you did. I am nearly as much afraid of -you as I am of little Clary. Clary ride on Judy now, and Harry on pup -Sampiero, and come and see papa go chip, chip, chip?" - -"No, Clary stop and see mamma go scratch, scratch, scratch, like Cooky -at the pie-crust. Clary love mamma to-day, and papa to-morrow." - -And the lovely dear jumps on the stool, to pull the top of my pen. -Harry pops out from under the table, and prepares himself for onset. My -husband comes and lifts my hair, and throws his arm around me. It is -all up now with writing. - -"Darlings, I love all three of you, to-day, to-morrow, and for ever. -Only don't pull me to pieces." - - - - THE END. - - - - LONDON: - R. CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, - BREAD STREET HILL. - - - - - * * * * * - - - - - WORKS BY THE REV. CHARLES KINGSLEY. - - - CHAPLAIN IN ORDINARY TO THE QUEEN; RECTOR OF EVERSLEY; - AND PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. - - - THE WATER BABIES: - - A FAIRY TALE FOR A LAND BABY. - With Two Illustrations by J. NOEL PATON, R.S.A. Small 4to. 7s. 6d. - - - WESTWARD HO! - - New and Cheaper Edition. Crown 8vo. cloth, 6s. - - - TWO YEARS AGO. - - New and Cheaper Edition. Crown 8vo. cloth, 6s. - - - HYPATIA: - - OR, NEW FOES WITH AN OLD FACE. - Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. cloth, 6s. - - - ALTON LOCKE, TAILOR AND POET. - - New Edition. Crown 8vo. cloth, 4s. 6d. With New Preface. - - - THE HEROES. - - GREEK FAIRY TALES FOR THE YOUNG. - Second Edition, with Illustrations. Royal 16mo. cloth, 3s. 6d. - - - ALEXANDRIA AND HER SCHOOLS. - - Crown 8vo. cloth, 5s. - - - THE LIMITS OF EXACT SCIENCE - - AS APPLIED TO HISTORY. - - AN INAUGURAL LECTURE DELIVERED BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY OF - CAMBRIDGE. Crown 8vo. 2s. - - - PHAETHON. - - LOOSE THOUGHTS FOR LOOSE THINKERS. - - Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 2s. - - - - - POPULAR WORKS. - - Third Edition. - AUSTIN ELLIOT. - By HENRY KINGSLEY. - 2 Vols. Crown 8vo. cloth. 1*l.* 1s. - -"Mr. Henry Kingsley's novels have so much fulness of life in them, such -a strong, bounding pulse, that there are few books of the kind -pleasanter to read."--_Spectator_. - - - - Second Edition. - RAVENSHOE. - By HENRY KINGSLEY. - 3 Vols. Crown 8vo. cloth. 1*l.* 11s. 6d. - -"Admirable descriptions, which place 'Ravenshoe' almost in the first -rank of novels. Of the story itself it would really be difficult to -speak too highly. The author seems to possess every essential for a -writer of fiction."--_London Review_. - - - - Second Edition. - RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOFFRY HAMLYN. - By HENRY KINGSLEY. - Crown 8vo. cloth. 6s. - -"Mr. Henry Kingsley has written a work that keeps up its interest from -the first page to the last--it is full of vigorous stirring life. The -descriptions of Australian life in the early colonial days are marked by -an unmistakable touch of reality and personal experience. A book which -the public will be more inclined to read than to criticise, and we -commend them to each other."--_Athenaeum_. - - - - Second Edition. - TOM BROWN AT OXFORD. - 3 Vols. 1*l.* 11s. 6d. - -"A book that will live. In no other work that we can call to mind are -the finer qualities of the English gentleman more happily -portrayed."--_Daily News_. - -"The extracts we have given can give no adequate expression to the -literary vividness and noble ethical atmosphere which pervade the whole -book."--_Spectator_. - - - - Twenty-ninth Thousand. - TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. - By AN OLD BOY. - Fcap. 8vo. 5s. - -"A book which every father might well wish to see in the hands of his -son."--_Times_. - - - - Eighth Thousand. - SCOURING OF THE WHITE HORSE. - By the Author of "Tom Brown's School Days." - With numerous Illustrations by Richard Doyle. Imperial 16mo. - Printed on toned paper, gilt leaves, 8s. 6d. - -"The execution is excellent.... Like 'Tom Brown's School Days,' the -'White Horse' gives the reader a feeling of gratitude and personal -esteem towards the author. The author could not have a better style, nor -a better temper, nor a more excellent artist than Mr. Doyle to adorn his -book."--_Saturday Review_. - - - - MACMILLAN AND CO. LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLARA VAUGHAN, VOLUME III (OF -III) *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41022 - -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. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything -for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may -use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative -works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and -printed and given away - you may do practically _anything_ with public -domain eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, -especially commercial redistribution. - - - -The Full Project Gutenberg License - - -_Please read this before you distribute or use this work._ - -To protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or -any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License available with this file or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works - - -*1.A.* By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the -terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all -copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in your possession. If -you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -*1.B.* "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things -that you can do with most Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works even -without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph -1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -*1.C.* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of -Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works. Nearly all the individual works -in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you -from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating -derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project -Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the -Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting free access to electronic -works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg(tm) works in compliance with -the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg(tm) name -associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this -agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full -Project Gutenberg(tm) License when you share it without charge with -others. - -*1.D.* The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg(tm) work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -*1.E.* Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -*1.E.1.* The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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 http://www.gutenberg.org - -*1.E.2.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can -be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying -any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a -work with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on -the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs -1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -*1.E.3.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg(tm) License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work. - -*1.E.4.* Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg(tm). - -*1.E.5.* Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) License. - -*1.E.6.* You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg(tm) web site -(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -*1.E.7.* Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg(tm) works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -*1.E.8.* You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works -provided that - - - You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg(tm) works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - - - You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg(tm) - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) - works. - - - You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - - - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) works. - - -*1.E.9.* If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below. - -*1.F.* - -*1.F.1.* Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection. -Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, and the -medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but -not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription -errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a -defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer -codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. - -*1.F.2.* LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. -YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, -BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN -PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND -ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR -ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES -EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. - -*1.F.3.* LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -*1.F.4.* Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -*1.F.5.* Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -*1.F.6.* INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg(tm) -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg(tm) work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg(tm) - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg(tm)'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and -permanent future for Project Gutenberg(tm) and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org . - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state -of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue -Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is -64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the -full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page -at http://www.pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where -we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any -statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside -the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways -including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, -please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. - - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg(tm) -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg(tm) eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg(tm) eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless -a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks -in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook -number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(tm), -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |