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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41554 ***
+
+                      THE WEIRD SISTERS.
+
+                         A Romance.
+
+                     BY RICHARD DOWLING,
+
+             AUTHOR OF "THE MYSTERY OF KILLARD."
+
+
+    In Three Volumes.
+    VOL. III.
+
+
+    LONDON:
+    TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8, CATHERINE ST., STRAND.
+    1880.
+
+    [_All rights reserved._]
+
+    CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS,
+    GREAT NEW STREET, LONDON.
+
+
+
+
+                  TO
+          EDMOND POWER, ESQ.,
+            OF SPRINGFIELD,
+    Whose kindness to Mine and to Me
+          I SHALL NEVER FORGET
+              WHILE I AM.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    Part II.--The Towers of Silence--_continued_.
+
+
+     VII.--WAT GREY'S BUSINESS ROMANCE                     1
+
+    VIII.--MAKING HOLIDAY                                 20
+
+      IX.--THE END OF THE HOLIDAY                         39
+
+
+    Part III.--Husband and Wife.
+
+
+       I.--THE SECRET OF THE SALE                         58
+
+      II.--"SIR WILLIAM--" "NO; MIDHARST"                 77
+
+     III.--THE PARTING                                    96
+
+      IV.--BETWEEN THE LIGHTS                            116
+
+       V.--"A WOMAN OF NO NAME"                          142
+
+      VI.--PENNILESS                                     159
+
+     VII.--LOSING                                        174
+
+    VIII.--"I AM HE. FIRE."                              190
+
+      IX.--BANKER AND BARONET                            201
+
+       X.--GREY REMEMBERS WHAT HE FORGOT                 215
+
+
+
+
+
+THE WEIRD SISTERS.
+
+
+
+
+PART II. THE TOWERS OF SILENCE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+WAT GREY'S BUSINESS ROMANCE.
+
+
+Grey found his mother in the front parlour of her own house. She was as
+bright, intelligent as ever, and put down the _Times_ and took off her
+spectacles as he entered.
+
+"Henry," she exclaimed, as he came in, "what is the matter? You are
+looking like a ghost."
+
+"It is only that I have seen one, mother," he said wearily, tenderly, as
+he kissed her, put his arms round her, and placed her in a chair.
+
+"Seen what?" she demanded, looking up impatiently at her stalwart son.
+
+"A ghost, mother."
+
+"Nonsense, Henry. Of late I see but little of you; and when I do see
+you, you are full of mysteries, only fit for sempstresses in penny
+parts. You ought not to treat me as if I wanted to be roused into
+interest in your affairs by secrets and surprises."
+
+She patted her foot impatiently on the floor, and looked with vivacious
+reproach in his face.
+
+He placed his hand gently but impressively on her shoulder, and said,
+looking down calmly from his large blue frank eyes into her swift bright
+gray eyes:
+
+"I am not, mother, practising any art upon you; I am practising a great
+art upon myself."
+
+She now saw something serious was coming or was in his mind; and while
+she did not allow her courage to decline, or the resolution of her look
+to diminish, she asked simply,
+
+"And what is that art, Henry?"
+
+"That of enduring the company of a villain in the presence of the person
+I most respect on earth."
+
+She looked round the room hastily.
+
+"He can't mean this place," she thought, "for we are alone." Raising
+impatient eyes to his, she said, "I am listening. Who is this villain?"
+
+"Your son."
+
+"Say that again, my hearing----" She paused and put her hand behind her
+ear, and bent forward her wrinkled neck to catch the words.
+
+"In your presence, mother, I am trying to endure the presence of your
+villanous son, my villanous self."
+
+"Sit down, Henry," she said very quietly.
+
+He sat down on a chair a little distance in front of her.
+
+She thought, "His father never told me there was a taint of insanity on
+his side of the family, and I know there was none on mine. This is
+terrible, but I must keep cool. Perhaps it will pass away. We shall have
+the best advice. He looks haggard. The wisest thing is to make little of
+what he says." Then she said aloud, "Well, Henry, I suppose you are
+going to tell me something else?"
+
+"I am going to tell you, mother, all man durst utter. The unspeakable
+must remain unsaid."
+
+He leaned his elbow on a small table, and supported his brow with his
+thumb and forefinger, shading his eyes with the fingers and the palm of
+the hand.
+
+She sat upright on her chair. It was an easy chair, but she disdained
+the support of elbows or back. She thought his words, "The unspeakable
+must remain unsaid." "My son! my son! what has turned his poor head?"
+Aloud she said, "Tell me all you please, Henry."
+
+"It is so cool and sweet and pure here, mother, in this house of yours,
+in your presence; I would give all the world if I might live here."
+
+"Then why not come? That great empty house is too much for you, and you
+are growing morbid there. Come here at once, and it will be like old
+times to you and me."
+
+"I am not so lonely in that house as you might think," he said, with a
+ghastly contraction of the lips and a shudder.
+
+"But you see no one now. You have no company, and even at its best and
+brightest it was a dismal old barracks. Suppose, Henry, I live with
+you?"
+
+He looked up suddenly, fiercely, and cried in a loud voice:
+
+"No, no; you must not think of that. That is the last thing likely to
+happen. How could you think of such a thing?"
+
+His head, his head was clearly gone. Fancy his resisting such an offer
+from her in such a passionate, ill-tempered way.
+
+"Then come and live with me; the isolation of that house is preying upon
+you."
+
+He had dropped his head once more to its old position.
+
+"I am not so much alone there as you might suppose."
+
+"I thought you saw nobody lately."
+
+"But I am often, when at home now, in the company of Bee in her better
+days."
+
+What splendid self-torture this was! To dance thus before his mother on
+the brink of a precipice she did not see was exhilarating. It was
+almost worth committing a crime to enjoy the contrast between the ideas
+these words brought up in his mind and his mother's.
+
+"A bad sign," thought the old woman. "A bad sign of reason, when the
+mind of a man of his age is always with the past." She said: "I think it
+would be much better for you to shut up the Manor and come here. If you
+take my advice you would most certainly leave that hateful house. It was
+all very well when you were strong and happy to call parts of your house
+by horrible names, but when you are ill and weak and nervous you get
+superstitious, and full of foolish notions about those very things you
+have been playing with."
+
+"Do you know, mother, I would not exchange my Tower of Silence for any
+castle in England at this moment; no, not for the fee-simple of
+Yorkshire."
+
+The tone, the words, and the awful smile that accompanied them, cowed
+the spirit of the woman. "My God!" she thought, "this is worse than
+death. His reason is toppling, toppling."
+
+She did not speak, but waited for him to go on.
+
+"But, mother, there is another reason for my not selling the Manor."
+
+"And what is that, Henry?"
+
+"I am thinking of getting married."
+
+"Married! Married!"
+
+"Yes. Am I so old or so feeble that I should not think of marrying
+again?" he asked, with a clumsy attempt at a smile as he half uncovered
+his pallid face.
+
+"No," she answered slowly.
+
+"Then why are you astonished?"
+
+"I did not say I was astonished."
+
+"No, mother, but you looked astonished; tell me why? Why were you
+astonished at the idea of my marrying a second time? Do you know any
+_reason_ why I should not?"
+
+This was a fierce pleasure. It was like stirring up a sleeping lion when
+there was no chance of escape save through a small door, before reaching
+which he might, if he awoke, spring upon you, seize you by the back, and
+batter out your brains with one swing against the bars. It was like
+mounting a parapet under fire, and standing there thirty seconds, watch
+in hand, expecting to be struck, and trying to anticipate where.
+
+"Reason for your not marrying! No, I know nothing to prevent your
+marrying."
+
+She did care to excite him in his very critical mental condition by
+reference to the little comfort he had derived from his experience of
+wedlock.
+
+"Well, mother, it is not only that no cause exists why I should not
+marry, but an absolute necessity--a necessity there is no evading,
+makes the step inevitable."
+
+He had raised his head from his hand and was looking in her face.
+
+"You have always had good reasons for your acts," she said, humouring
+his whim.
+
+"And, moreover, it is imperatively necessary I shall marry one
+particular woman, and no other."
+
+"What! in love again already!" exclaimed Mrs. Grey, with a desperate
+attempt at archness.
+
+The attempt failed utterly, and her face wore a look of anxiety and
+pain. It was now clear her son did not suffer from mere hallucination;
+this was a break up of the whole intellect.
+
+The man was so lost to external things he did not notice the change in
+his mother's face. He was deliberately rehearsing aloud his plan of
+campaign, and counting his forces and chances. He had almost forgotten
+he addressed his mother. He knew he might speak out with safety. This
+was the first time he had dared to give utterance to his thoughts in the
+presence of another. There was intoxication in the fearless recital of
+his case, and, with his bodily eyes indifferent to things around him, he
+abandoned himself to the delight of speaking his secret thought, and
+observing how the uttered words lightened his burden.
+
+"You are curious to know her name?" he asked, in a mechanical tone.
+
+"I should like to hear who it is," she returned.
+
+"It's a very good name. It will bring no discredit on the name of Grey.
+Guess."
+
+"Indeed, I cannot."
+
+"Maud Midharst."
+
+"Maud Midharst!" exclaimed the old woman, relaxing the rigidity of her
+pose, and falling for support against the back of her chair--"Maud
+Midharst!" she repeated, in a tone of dismay. For a moment she had
+forgotten she was listening to a man suffering from severe mental
+disturbance. Instantly almost she recovered herself, and fixing eyes now
+full of tenderness and pity upon her son, resumed her upright attitude,
+and continued her former plan of humouring him. "She is very beautiful,
+very amiable, and very rich," the woman said.
+
+"She is very beautiful, very amiable, and _very poor_," he said
+impressively.
+
+Again Mrs. Grey started. His tones were not those of a man of unsound
+mind; and although his face looked pale and worn, and there was a queer
+expression in the eyes, the whole conveyed the idea of a man overwrought
+rather than radically unsound of head. She was so much thrown off her
+guard that she could not refrain from repeating aloud, "Very poor!"
+
+"Yes, very poor," he went on in the same monotonous voice, and with the
+same lightless face turned to hers. "And it is because she is very poor
+I am going to marry her."
+
+"A regular love romance!" cried the old lady in a sprightly voice. The
+tears were in her eyes. Her son, her only son, the idol of her life,
+breaking down thus in his strong manhood! Hard sight for a mother! How
+hard to sit still, and seem calm, and watch the light of departing
+reason flickering in those large blue eyes, which in the happy warm long
+ago had looked up to hers as the baby boy lay at her breast.
+
+"A real _business_ romance," he said gravely. "A real business romance."
+
+"It must be a romance indeed if you are marrying her because she is
+poor, for I believe you, Henry, are not rich." She thought, "Perhaps it
+will be best to take an interest in all this. If I do not he may think I
+suspect him of being under delusions, and I daresay that would make him
+worse."
+
+"The Daneford Bank is now secure and in a prosperous condition, but I
+have nothing beyond its prosperity, so that, compared with the time I
+got the Bank, I am a poor man, for I have lost all my private fortune.
+Does it not seem strange to you, mother, that I, a poor man, should
+aspire to the hand of a baronet's poor daughter?"
+
+"But, Henry, this is a love romance, and in love romances all things are
+possible."
+
+"I have explained to you, mother, that it is a _business_, and not a
+love romance. But I have not told you half the romance yet."
+
+"I am most anxious to hear it."
+
+"I have never said a word of love to her yet. I do believe a word of
+love has never yet been spoken to her, and already there is a rival in
+the field, so that now we have every element of success."
+
+"And who is this rival?"
+
+"The new baronet, Sir William Midharst."
+
+"Sir William Midharst! I thought he was in Egypt."
+
+"He has been, but he got back just in time for Sir Alexander's funeral.
+He walked to the funeral with me, came back and fell in love with his
+cousin Maud."
+
+"How do you know this?"
+
+"Mrs. Grant told me."
+
+"And does Mrs. Grant know you are in love with Miss Midharst?"
+
+"No, nor any one else."
+
+"I, for instance, know."
+
+"Who told you?"
+
+"You."
+
+"Never."
+
+"He forgets already what he told me a few minutes ago. This is terrible.
+I shall not be able to stand it much longer. My poor Wat! I wonder what
+has turned his brain?" the mother thought. She endeavoured to keep on
+her face an expression of vivacious interest.
+
+He spoke again. "I never told you I was in love with Maud Midharst. I
+only told you that it is absolutely necessary I should marry her."
+
+"In some things," the mother thought, "he is as clear as ever. Of course
+all this talk of his marrying Miss Midharst is the result of some way
+poor Bee's death affected him," she reflected. Aloud she said, "But,
+Henry, if you do not love her, and if she is poor and you are not rich,
+why are you compelled to marry her?"
+
+"If any one knew the answer to that question, mother, that person could
+put me in the dock and convict me of embezzlement."
+
+She started to her feet and placed her hand on his shoulder, and cried
+in a voice of agony: "My God, my son is mad!"
+
+He rose quietly and put both his hands tenderly on her shoulders, and
+whispered hoarsely in her ear: "I am not mad now. I never was more sane
+in my life. I _was_ mad when I stole Sir Alexander's savings to the last
+penny. It was with his money I saved the Bank."
+
+"Great God, what do I hear!"
+
+"The truth. I am no better than a thief. I have stolen the old man's
+savings and the young girl's fortune, and, unless I marry her, I shall
+be found out. Did I not tell you I was in the company of a villain when
+I came in first? Now you believe me."
+
+"And you lied to me when you told me about that money from the Pacific
+coast? Ten thousand times better madness than this!"
+
+"I did."
+
+"You, Henry, my son, lied to me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Understand my question once for all. When you, Henry Grey, told me,
+your mother, that the Daneford Bank had been saved by money from the
+Pacific coast, did you lie to me?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Then, sir, leave my presence and my house for ever!"
+
+"Mother!"
+
+"Go, sir, at once!"
+
+"Mother, for God's sake! You do not know all!"
+
+"Go, sir, at once! I do not want to see any more of you--hear any more
+of you. You have brought disgrace on our honourable name. You had not
+the courage to face ruin, but you had the courage to face crime, and you
+had the baseness to lie to me, sir. Go, I tell you, sir, and let me see
+you no more. Let me forget there is a man alive who bears your
+honourable father's name. Do not let me see you again. Do not let me
+hear of you. You will not go, sir? Then I shall leave you. Remember, we
+never meet again."
+
+She swept out of the room.
+
+When she had gone he stood a while holding his forehead in his hands,
+then shook himself, left the room, and drew the front door after him
+with a low laugh, muttering: "And I did not tell her all. I forgot a
+part."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+MAKING HOLIDAY.
+
+
+When Grey awoke the morning after the interview with his mother, he felt
+calmer than usual. He had slept better, and the air of early November
+was bright and crisp, and wholesome and invigorating.
+
+He arose, drew back the curtains, and raised the blind. The leaves were
+all off the trees, and the bright sharp fretwork of oak sprays glittered
+in the morning sun. The grove was silent. All its winged lodgers had
+long since taken flight in search of food. The glades and caverns of the
+grove no longer sweltered under canopies of impenetrable leaves. Aisles,
+which had been vaults of sultry gloom in summer, lay partly open to the
+sky. Here and there the eye could pierce the inter-twisted branches and
+catch sight of the mounds of red rotting leaves.
+
+The grove no longer desired the screen of leaves to hide it from the
+eyes of man, to cover up the monsters of soft rank vegetation that
+throve and bloated until they burst with the unclean rottenness of
+excess. All things perishable in the vegetable domain were now melting
+down into the ground, there to lie until the spring-hunger of the seed
+and root moved and drank them in, to thrust them once more whence they
+lay into the green-giving air.
+
+In the warm weather these juices, as they move about through the earth,
+are caught in the webs of roots and budding seeds, and are pushed
+upwards through the crust of earth, and by the sun dyed into a coat of
+many colours to keep excessive heat from the under earth.
+
+In the winter they are shorn of their beauty, and thrust down into all
+the crevices of earth, there standing incorruptible sentinels of ice to
+prevent the penetration of the cold.
+
+The coming and going of these juices through the mould is the
+respiration of the earth. The breathing of all things grows less
+frequent as they increase in size. Man breathes twelve times a minute,
+the earth once a year. Can the heat of all earth's time be its share of
+one fiery expiration of the sun?
+
+Grey stood gazing vacantly at the skeleton trees and the mounds of
+red-yellow leaves.
+
+Of late he had observed that his thoughts came much more slowly than of
+old, and this was a mercy. This morning they scarcely moved at all.
+
+"Like a skeleton," he thought. "The grove is like a skeleton from the
+bones of which the flesh has rotted, fallen through, and is lying down
+there under the ribs."
+
+He shuddered, put his hand to his head, muttering: "No, no; I must not
+think of that; I must not think of that. I must think of anything but
+that. Of course, the exposure--it is nearly three months there
+now--has--has--and there is nothing left but--Oh, God! No, no, no; I
+must not think."
+
+It took him a long time to collect his thoughts latterly. This morning
+he was much slower than usual. It was those sleepless nights that made
+him so dull of mornings now. He had such thoughts and visions in the
+night that in the mornings he felt weary, worn out, jaded.
+
+His mother!
+
+Yes. He had not thought of that until now. That was bad, very bad. These
+blows were coming too quickly and too heavily, and that one was the
+heaviest of all. He had sought her in his sorest trouble, his direst
+fear, and she had spurned him, cast him off, expelled him from her
+presence for ever. She--she--she had been cruel to him--cruel to him.
+She was all now left to him in the world. He had squandered everything
+else in the world but her love and his love for her. He went to her in
+his direst need, and confessed a small crime and a little sin, an
+embezzlement and a lie only, and she had spurned him--more, it seemed to
+him, for the lie than the embezzlement. This was too bad. If she had
+spurned him for these, what would she do if he had told her of--of the
+other thing? Called the police perhaps. Well, after all, the police were
+not so terrible to him now, for there was no one in all the world he
+cared for who cared for him, and he was free.
+
+All things had gone well with him until now, until the funeral of the
+baronet. Since then he had learned he was not the absolute guardian of
+Maud, he had found out Maud had an admirer, and he had lost the
+affection and esteem of his mother for ever.
+
+The blows were too fast and too heavy.
+
+What should he do? He could not go on in this way. He should break down
+if he did not get relief. There was no use in going to the castle while
+that young fellow was there, and even if the young fellow were gone, the
+thinker was in no state of mind to push forward his fortunes with Maud.
+Indeed, there was absolute danger in going near the castle. In his
+present state of mind he might betray his designs on Maud, and that
+would be ruin beyond retrieval. That young fellow was not likely to
+propose to the orphan a few days after her father's death. He, the
+thinker, would take a week's holiday, and come back invigorated for the
+game.
+
+That day he went to the Bank and arranged everything for an absence of a
+week or ten days. He wrote a note to Miss Midharst, saying he was
+compelled by ill-health to leave Daneford for a week or so. He expressed
+his hope that while he was away Mrs. Grant would advise in any little
+matter on which Miss Midharst might in the usual course look to him for
+guidance; as to any matter of importance, they would have his address at
+the Bank, and a messenger should call every day at the castle for any
+message, letter, or telegram she might please to send to him. He would
+send her his address; but he did not know how long he might stay in
+London, where he was going first, as change was what he needed most.
+
+To Sir William he wrote courteously and blandly to the effect that he
+hoped Sir William would not forget his promise of drawing on the
+Daneford Bank for the twenty thousand spoken of, and any further sum the
+baronet might stand in need of. The banker regretted he was obliged to
+go away so soon after the sad event at the castle; but he was absolutely
+done up, and rest was the only thing to restore him to vigour. The
+writer hoped to be back in Daneford in time to say God speed Sir
+William, on the baronet's setting out for Egypt. While the banker was
+away, Mr. Matthew Aldridge, manager of the Daneford Bank, would be
+delighted to do anything in his power for Sir William.
+
+Grey wrote a few lines to Mrs. Grant. That note was the shortest of the
+three, and took him the longest time to write. He tore up two copies.
+Nothing could be simpler or more guileless than the one he sent. It ran:
+
+     "DEAR MRS. GRANT,
+
+     "I am obliged by my health, to take a few days' rest in a new
+     scene. I hope to be no longer than a week or ten days from home. I
+     hope you will not think absenting myself so soon after Sir
+     Alexander's death shows want of devotion to Sir Alexander's child.
+     My first duty in life is to her. I need not say I leave her with
+     implicit confidence in your care. I know you will always be loyal
+     to the wishes of her father, herself, and yours very faithfully,
+
+     "HENRY WALTER GREY."
+
+When these letters had been disposed of and a few other business
+matters attended to, he took train for the south-east and arrived in
+London that night.
+
+The journey fatigued him; and change of air, even when from a good into
+a worse atmosphere, being beneficial, he slept soundly that night, and
+awoke with less sense of distraction, less difficulty in collecting his
+thoughts.
+
+In Grey's youth he had spent much time in London, and knew portions of
+the town, those west of Tottenham Court Road and Trafalgar Square, very
+well. But he had little acquaintance with the City, and none with the
+east. He had been frequently in the City on banking business, and knew
+the ten streets confluent round the Bank. But the bulk of the City was
+an unknown land to him.
+
+Change was what he sought. Novelty without solitude. Therefore, instead
+of the quiet hotel in Jermyn Street, where he usually put up, he found
+himself this morning in a large City hotel not a bow-shot from the
+cathedral of St. Paul.
+
+A while he lay awake listening to the tremulous mutter of the City
+traffic. What a contrast, these groans of wheels and clatters of hoofs
+with the morning silence about the Manor House. Here, the walls
+vibrated, the solid ground shook, the air fluttered against the
+window-panes with the sway of bodies moving ceaselessly hither and
+thither. There, no sound came in upon the desert realms of the morning
+silence but the faint twitter of a bird or the far-off crack of a
+carter's whip or a sportsman's gun.
+
+Would it not be better for him to stop here always?
+
+Here were no suggestions of the disastrous past. No one knew him here.
+Suppose he burnt down the Manor House, took twenty thousand pounds out
+of the Bank, changed his name, disguised himself, and came to live in
+the middle of roaring London? Ambition he would abandon. Blows had come
+so heavily and so quickly, the ambition had been beaten out of him.
+Security and peace were what he yearned for. Security and peace. Peace.
+
+If he lived in this great whirlpool in the ocean of Man, the shoutings
+of his fellows would drown the memories of his ears. Who could hear the
+whisperings of a woman's dress in the tumult of this great city, with
+its turmoil of multitudinous wheels and clangour of innumerable bells?
+Here he could take his ease for the rest of his life, and drown the
+vague hideous whispers of the dead in the loud-toned wrangles of the
+living.
+
+There was, however, no necessity for his now changing his name or
+adopting disguises. He had some days to rest and recruit. When these had
+passed it would be time enough for him to think of precautions.
+
+He went out after breakfast, and strolled along streets he had never
+been in before.
+
+He moved west through streets running in perplexing zigzags, a little to
+the north of Cheapside, Newgate Street, and Holborn. He strolled slowly,
+looking in at shop-windows, and taking interest in the disputes of
+ragged boys and the bargaining of slattern women at the doors of
+slopshops and marine store dealers. He was not used to such scenes, and
+they took his mind off his own affairs and condition better than the
+deserted parks or richer streets. It seemed to him as though he had
+already severed his connection with Daneford, and lived emancipated from
+the past.
+
+At last he came to an open space, in the centre of which stood a large
+heavy-looking building he had never seen before. Passing along the
+southern side of this open space, he came to the entrance of that
+building.
+
+He thought: "Often as I have been in London, I have never seen even the
+outside of this before. It will be a capital place to spend a few
+hours."
+
+He entered the enclosure through the small gate, and walked slowly up to
+the deep portico. Under this portico he stood awhile, watching the
+pigeons, and the people going in and out. Then turning his back upon the
+daylight, he entered the British Museum, that storehouse for the
+unclaimed personal property of intestate centuries and forgotten kings.
+
+Passing slowly through the hall of busts, he reached the Egyptian Room.
+He had no great love of the antique, no great curiosity in people who
+staggered through the dark approaches leading up to the still,
+unspiritualised, unexciting Greek art. He never took much interest in
+art. He had been many times to the Academy. He had enjoyed going; but it
+is doubtful if he were offered to be allowed to go through the rooms
+alone he would have accepted the privilege.
+
+To-day Egypt had a new meaning and a new attraction for him. From Egypt
+that young man had come unexpectedly to thwart his plans. To Egypt that
+young man was going back again.
+
+What preposterous and foolish figures those around were! What impossible
+creatures! Cat-headed men! Was this the kind of country that young man
+had come from? Alligators, too, and crocodiles! Tombs. The Egyptians
+gave more honour to their illustrious dead than we do to our living
+poor. With them a dead lion was much better than a living dog.
+
+Egypt must have been a land of monsters, fools, and tombs.
+
+Grey was now leaning on the rail which protected a sarcophagus of
+polished black stone. His eyes were fixed vacantly on the coffin.
+
+"The Egyptians," he followed on thinking, "preserved their dead for
+ever; the Greeks destroyed them at once; and we put them underground,
+and let them shift for themselves.
+
+"Put them underground--not all!"
+
+He stopped thinking, and looked around cautiously. There were no
+protecting noises here. Infrequent footsteps, and occasionally a cough,
+were the only sounds invading the dull gloomy gallery. Coming up towards
+the sarcophagus by which he stood was a middle-aged portly man, leading
+two fair flaxen-haired children by the hand. The man was describing the
+various objects they passed.
+
+"Sometimes we don't let the living shift for themselves, we shift for
+them; and sometimes without putting the dead in the ground we leave
+those whom we shifted out of life to shift for themselves unburied."
+
+The man leading the little girls reached the sarcophagus. He stopped the
+children and, pointing to the coffin, said:
+
+"This was King Pharoah's favourite coffin. When he was quite a young man
+he contracted the habit of being buried in this coffin, and as he grew
+older he gave way more and more to this degrading habit. Stop, let me
+look closer. Upon my word and honour I have made a mistake. I see by one
+of the mortuary cards issued at the death, and found when they dug up
+this coffin out of the Nile, the body was that of one Ibis Cheops, who
+flourished a long time ago. When he was done flourishing they put him
+in here. Flourishing long ago was greatly admired; we solicitors are
+dead against it now. Let me see any of my copying clerks flourishing,
+and he may take down his hat and overcoat and go and enjoy life."
+
+"Is that in the catalogue, all about this stone hearse?" asked one of
+the children.
+
+"No, child."
+
+"Then how do you know, uncle? You told us you were never here before."
+
+"My dear child, you forget I am a solicitor; and once a man has anything
+to do with the Court of Chancery he is up to every mean dodge of human
+nature. It isn't to say that the muddle-headed ancient Egyptians could
+deceive or over-reach him in any way, but he is more than a match at
+cheating for the modern Greeks; and that's about as stiff a competitive
+examination in roguery as anyone can pass. I beg your pardon, sir; Mr.
+Grey, I think, of Daneford? Am I right?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE END OF THE HOLIDAY.
+
+
+Grey looked up with an uneasy start and a sudden pallor.
+
+"You do not remember me. My name is Barraclough. I am London
+representative of Mr. Evans, your Daneford solicitor."
+
+"Of course, of course. This is about the last place in the world I
+should think of meeting you, Mr. Barraclough."
+
+"I may say the same of you, Mr. Grey. Indeed few men--none, practically
+speaking--of our age come here, unless specialists of some kind."
+
+"I have never been here before."
+
+"Nor have I. That fact explains our presence here to-day at our time of
+life. As a rule, boys are brought here when young, under the impression
+they are going to have a treat; they find the thing a pedantic stuck-up
+bore, get disgusted with the place, and swear an oath (most likely the
+only one they swear and keep) that they will not enter this building
+again. Ever after in their memory this building seems the sour, old,
+crusty, maiden aunt of the sights of London. Now, my dears, just walk on
+a little before us; I want to speak to this gentleman. Mind to keep a
+sharp look-out for Pharaoh's favourite coffin. I'm sure it's somewhere
+hereabouts. You'll know it at once by not being able to distinguish it
+from the others until you shut one eye and keep the other eye fixed on
+the Rosetta stone, because that is, as you know, the only key we have to
+the hieroglyphics. I think they keep the Rosetta stone in one of the
+cellars, for fear of the daylight fading the inscription. You shall go
+down and see it presently; but now run on, and look up the coffin. My
+nieces, Mr. Grey," he explained, as the children with bewildered gravity
+walked on. "I live quite close--Bloomsbury Square. My wife had to go
+somewhere or other to-day, and asked me to take the children out for a
+few hours; so I left word at the office I should be here if they wanted
+me. You are not looking quite so well as the last time I saw you."
+
+"I have not been very well of late, and came up here for a rest from
+business."
+
+"I don't know how you bankers live. If I were one, I should worry myself
+to death in forty-eight hours. I should always be thinking my clerks
+were pocketing hundred-pound notes, or burglars were breaking into the
+strong-box."
+
+Grey winced a little, but said nothing. The other ran on:
+
+"I am sure this meeting is most lucky. Will you dine with me to-day? I
+got the instructions from Evans this morning, and will do the best I
+can, you may be sure. I have not, of course, been able to do anything in
+the matter as yet. It will take time. Dine with me, and we can talk the
+matter over. We shall be quite alone--no one but my wife. We can
+exchange views over a cigar."
+
+Grey felt perplexed and confounded. He had not the least idea of what
+Barraclough referred to. Could it be his head had been so much confused
+he had gone to Evans, given him important instructions, and then
+forgotten all about them? The thing must be of consequence. There would
+be no need to discuss a trifle. It would not, however, do to confess his
+ignorance or forgetfulness to this man.
+
+"Can we not speak of it here?" Grey asked.
+
+Barraclough looked around, shrugged his shoulders in deprecation of the
+place, and said: "I think business always comes best after dessert. Do
+dine with me. I promise you an excellent cigar."
+
+Grey was sorely perplexed. He had no hint of what those instructions
+were. It was absolutely necessary he should find out. This was not a
+fitting place for a business chat. The idea of dining with anyone was
+intolerable.
+
+"I am very much obliged to you, and should be very pleased to dine with
+you, but I--I really cannot. I must keep as quiet as possible. You will
+excuse my not going; and, as a favour, tell me now what you have to
+say."
+
+"Certainly, certainly. Let me see--let me see. Of course, Mr. Grey, in a
+matter of this kind we must be business-like, and take into
+consideration facts we might otherwise leave out of sight."
+
+"Of course."
+
+What could be coming? This was a very grave prelude.
+
+"You are executor and trustee to the will?"
+
+"Yes." Grey started. "Sole executor and trustee."
+
+"Sole executor and trustee! Are you sure of that? Evans said you were
+one of the executors and trustees."
+
+"I am sole executor and trustee, I assure you."
+
+What had he said to Evans about the will? In his conscious moments he
+had no intention of saying anything to Evans about the will. The blows
+were coming too heavily and too quickly. His head--his head!
+
+"Strange! Evans ought to be more careful. He said he was not sure
+whether the others were living or not; but he mentioned the fact that
+it would be necessary to inquire and ascertain if they were living or
+dead."
+
+The attorney looked cautiously into the sarcophagus, as though he
+expected the bottom to disappear, disclosing the missing executors and
+trustees.
+
+Grey glanced at the other man in a bewildered way. The whole of his
+intellect must be going. Not only had he gone to Evans and given him
+important instructions about something or other, but, if he was to
+credit Evans and Barraclough, he had forgotten a feature in that will,
+and this very feature happened to be enough to destroy him instantly.
+Could it be, good Heavens, that there was a second name in the will, and
+he had forgotten it, and was roaming here about London instead of taking
+the precaution of blowing out his brains!
+
+He felt sick and faint. His head began to swim. What a blessed fate that
+of those men of Egypt who, three thousand years ago, had died, and been
+swathed up in bandages, enclosed in huge granite coffins, and buried in
+the inviolable silence and security of pyramids! Here was he, all naked
+and raw from crime, out in the rough winds, among the rough ways of
+unfeeling men; and add to all this his head--his head!
+
+"I am surprised at Evans," said Grey. "He ought to have known. He ought
+to have known better."
+
+"I should think he ought!" exclaimed the attorney warmly. "To fancy a
+man instructing another to move in an important matter of this kind, to
+write and say the consent of the trustees might be relied upon, and then
+to find out there was but one trustee! Evans must be going mad."
+
+"Yes; he or--I."
+
+"Nonsense," returned Barraclough. "There is no chance of your being
+wrong. Evans is either careless or mad."
+
+"What do you purpose doing?" asked Grey cautiously.
+
+That question might safely be put in the face of any facts.
+
+"I shall sell, of course. Evans tells me you agree to sell; so that if
+you are sole executor and trustee, there is no need to look up anyone
+for consent."
+
+What was he to hear next? This man was telling him he had a co-executor
+and co-trustee, and that he had authorised Evans to sell. Monstrous!
+Which was his period of insanity: when he had (if he had) given Evans
+the instructions, or now? Which was his madness: in giving such
+instructions, or in now believing his senses and the words of this man?
+He made a great effort, pulled all his faculties together, knit his
+brows, and put this question to himself: "Is the lead to overtake the
+gold--to-night?" Then he put another question to Barraclough:
+
+"What did Evans say altogether?"
+
+"That Mrs. Grey had come to him----" Arrested by the banker's manner,
+Barraclough paused.
+
+Grey had leaned suddenly forward, thrust a pale, shrivelled face close
+to Barraclough's, placed one hand on the attorney's shoulder, and,
+pointing over his own right shoulder with the other hand, whispered:
+
+"_This one?_"
+
+"You are ill?"
+
+"_No. Go on._"
+
+"You really look very ill. Let me----"
+
+"_No. Go on._"
+
+"He said she wished to sell out her annuity of two thousand a year----"
+
+"Who said that?"
+
+"Mrs. Grey, your mother."
+
+"_My mother?_"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Suddenly Grey's face changed. It flushed. He drew himself clear of the
+attorney, and, throwing his arms aloft, uttered a loud long laugh,
+followed by the words: "Before high Heaven I thought he meant my wife!"
+
+All eyes were now directed to where the tall banker stood, with his arms
+upraised, and a smile of joy upon his flushed face. Ere the last echo of
+his voice had died away among these galleries of relics from the wrecks
+of a hundred religions, Grey's knees shook, and, with a groan, he fell
+to the ground.
+
+It was hours before Walter Grey regained consciousness. His thoughts
+were sluggish and dull. The edges of his ideas were blurred, and
+wavering this way and that against the background. Around him all was
+dim. It was night. A shaded lamp was somewhere in the room. He did not
+know where the lamp stood.
+
+Where was that lamp? What a strange thing no one came there to tell him
+where the lamp lay! He himself could not of course get up to try and
+find out where the lamp was. Of course not.
+
+Why not? Ay, why not? Wasn't it very strange there should be no one
+there to tell him where the lamp was, particularly as he could not get
+up!
+
+But why--why--why?
+
+He lost the sense of sight, and felt his eyes pressed against
+illimitable void darkness. His ears, too, were dead, plugged with thick
+silence that was not clear, but confused silence, as in the ears of one
+deep in water. Then the darkness and the silence shuddered with horror,
+and he ceased to be aware.
+
+It was daylight, and his tongue was very thick--thicker than ever he had
+felt it. It was so thick and stiff he could not move it. This was
+strange. The light, too, was peculiar. It looked as though the dawn or
+daylight lay far from the window. Of course the dawn was far away from
+the windows always, but it seemed immeasurably far off this morning. But
+then the ringing of all those bells made up for the increased distance
+of the dawn. How dull he had been not to see that at first! Of course
+the bells more than compensated the distance of the dawn. How he hated
+Latin! He'd never even try to learn it--never. They might flog him as
+much as ever they chose, but Latin he'd never learn. Not for all the
+masters in England. No; not for his father. He would not even pretend to
+learn it, only for his mother. But for his mother he'd shy a slate at
+the head-master, and hit the Latin man with the heavy, very heavy knob
+of the big school-room poker on the bald part, right in the middle of
+the bald part, of his head. They were ringing a thousand bells more now.
+How the sound did thin out the dawn! It thinned it out until all was
+worn away. Well, he had better go to sleep. He had a hard day's work
+before him. He had promised Bee (this very day six weeks they had been
+married) to take her on the river, their own river, and show her what he
+could do with the sculls. He was to pull her down to Seacliff. And yet,
+with that run on the Bank, how was he to sleep? Bee too was worrying him
+a good deal. Why did they not stop those bells? They had changed the
+measure of the bells. They had been ringing peals of joy; they now rang
+ten thousand times more bells, but they were all ringing death-bells.
+Ah, yes; how stupid he had been! Of course, they were burying the
+universe in the Great Darkness, and these were the great bells swung in
+the peaked hollows of space, ringing for the burial in chaos of the
+dead stars. Now he must go.
+
+It was afternoon before he again opened his eyes. He felt something had
+happened, what he did not know. "I have had a bad fall, or an accident
+of another kind; my head feels queer and I am weak. What has happened?
+Where am I?"
+
+He lay still awhile to recover strength. Then he asked feebly: "Is there
+anyone here?"
+
+A nurse showed herself. She would not allow him to speak much, but she
+told him the history of his present position briefly:
+
+While speaking to Mr. Barraclough in the British Museum, he had had an
+attack, of what kind the doctor did not say. From the British Museum Mr.
+Barraclough had him conveyed to this place, the attorney's house, where
+he had been insensible for some hours.
+
+Had he raved?
+
+No; not a word.
+
+Had any message been sent home?
+
+Yes. Mr. Barraclough had telegraphed to Mr. Grey's chief man at
+Daneford, and the gentleman was now waiting below.
+
+Grey asked that Mr. Aldridge might be sent to him. The nurse agreed to
+admit the manager on an understanding the interview was to occupy no
+more than a quarter of an hour.
+
+In a few minutes Aldridge entered the room, and having expressed his
+regrets and hopes, and received suitable replies, Grey's first question
+was:
+
+"Have you told anyone of the contents of that telegram?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You are sure?"
+
+"Quite sure."
+
+"Tell no one on the face of the earth."
+
+"I promise not."
+
+"Aldridge, I have known you some time, and I have every reason to
+believe and trust you. I am under many obligations to you. Keep this
+matter entirely to yourself, and you will double all my gratitude."
+
+"Rely on me."
+
+"It may leak out through the telegraph office or through Barraclough. I
+want you to go back to Daneford at once, see Evans, and tell him not to
+say anything of my illness. This is most important. Now go. Barraclough
+may have told Evans. Go at once."
+
+"Any further orders?"
+
+"No."
+
+"I have paid Sir William Midharst's cheque for twenty thousand."
+
+"All right. Don't lose a moment. Don't miss the first train."
+
+Grey fell back exhausted. Though his head ached, it felt clearer than
+for many weeks.
+
+"It would never do," he thought, "to have all Daneford gossiping over
+the infirmities of a man who must one of these days be a candidate
+bridegroom. The least said about me the better. I have neither the
+humour nor the strength for criticism or sympathy at present."
+
+It was several days before he was well enough to go home. He went back
+straight to Daneford.
+
+The evening of his arrival he strolled through the city, and took no
+heed of the direction in which he had wandered until he was attracted by
+something unusual in a house over the way. The front of the house was
+all dark. It was his mother's house. The piers of the gate were covered
+with auction bills announcing in a few days the sale of the lease and
+furniture.
+
+He had, until now, forgotten what Barraclough had told him. All rushed
+in upon his mind.
+
+"She is going to sell her annuity, her lease, her furniture, poor old
+woman; and I, the only trustee living, cannot prevent her, cannot
+approach her. Poor old woman! Wat Grey, I never pitied you until this
+moment."
+
+
+
+
+PART III. HUSBAND AND WIFE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE SECRET OF THE SALE.
+
+
+Grey had taken all the precautions in his power to prevent a report of
+his illness spreading, because he did not wish anything to get abroad
+which might make his approaches to Maud seem unreasonable. That was an
+important consideration. But it sank into insignificance beside the
+enormous danger likely to arise from the concentration of public
+attention upon him at this time.
+
+Here was his own mother, the one owner of remaining claims upon his
+better nature, imperilling his fortune--his neck. By advertising this
+sale, the eyes of all Daneford would be drawn to his mother, and the
+tongues of Daneford would be busy with his name. He himself did not know
+why his mother had resolved upon converting all she had in the world
+into cash, though he had an uneasy suspicion he could guess if he tried.
+His great dread was that his mother might do some incautious thing, take
+some incautious measure, in carrying out her design.
+
+Suppose her action did not suggest examination of anything in connection
+with him, he would still be in a very uncomfortable position. Surely
+people would speak to him of the step his mother was about to take. What
+answer should he make? What explanation could he give? If anyone asked
+him why his mother was selling, he could not tell, for he did not know.
+It would soon be found out that, under the simple conditions of his
+father's will, his authority would be necessary to the sale. How could
+he justify so unwise an act on the part of his mother? How could he tell
+people he approved of it? And yet he must say he sanctioned it,
+otherwise people would think there was something wrong.
+
+But even if he said he sanctioned it, would they not think there was
+something wrong? People would look first with amazement and then with
+suspicion at the sale of an old woman's annuity, house and furniture,
+when he, her childless and only son, was reputed to be enormously rich.
+What could induce a woman like Mrs. Grey to sell her house in her native
+town, and the chairs her husband had used, the table at which he had
+sat, the back drawing-room furniture given her by him as a birthday
+present after the coming of their only boy? Clearly nothing but want of
+money.
+
+It would be known his mother and he had been on most affectionate terms
+all their lives. Why did not an affectionate son spare an affectionate
+mother the unpleasantness of a sale by giving her the paltry few
+thousands? Even if he was mean enough not to make her a present of them,
+he might advance them upon the security she had to offer. It could not
+be that mother and son had quarrelled; if that were so he would clearly
+refuse his assent. It could not be she was in difficulties while her son
+had money. The clear deduction, the only possible deduction left to the
+people of Daneford would be that the selling was with his, Wat's, full
+consent, and that the money was for him--for the Daneford Bank.
+
+All this was quite clear to Grey; beyond it he durst not go. No, he
+would not allow his mind to look behind the curtain drawn across the
+remote future.
+
+What should he do?
+
+All night he lay awake, trying to solve that question. Morning came and
+found him without a solution.
+
+He had recovered wonderfully. His mind was now clear and vigorous. He
+resolved not to go to the office this day. He could not face people
+without some answer to enquiries sure to be made, and he had not yet
+resolved upon the course he should pursue.
+
+He spent the forenoon reading and writing letters. One he wrote to the
+Castle to Miss Midharst, announcing his return, and that he should call
+upon her next day. A second he addressed to his mother in the following
+terms:
+
+     "MOTHER,
+
+     "One last word. If you persist in attracting attention to my
+     affairs, by selling out, the chances are I shall be ruined; and
+     such ruin will be mine that I shall not face it, but leave people
+     to discuss my conduct over my corpse."
+
+He did not sign this note. He sent it by James, the stupid, purblind,
+discharged soldier, and bade him wait for an answer.
+
+In an hour James returned with the answer. It was in a large envelope, a
+very large envelope. The reply must have been prepared in anticipation
+of the appeal. A reply so bulky must be a favourable one. If an adverse
+answer had to be given, it would be brief.
+
+With trembling hands he broke the seal as soon as he was alone. He drew
+forth several documents. But the first that caught his eye was the
+smallest of all--his own letter returned unopened! Upon the envelope was
+written, in the unsteady hand of his mother, these words:
+
+"Sign the enclosed papers. The signatures must be witnessed. They must
+be signed and with me before the sale. I have not opened your letter. I
+daresay it does not lie, but how could I be sure?"
+
+His hand ceased to tremble. He put the unopened letter into his pocket
+with a firm deliberate hand, calmly took up the legal papers, perused
+them carefully, critically, and paused now and then to extract the sense
+from the legal jargon.
+
+When he had finished reading he rang the bell. James answered it.
+
+"James, is there any other man who can read and write about the place,
+besides you?"
+
+"One of the clerks has just come with a message for you, sir."
+
+"Ask him to step this way, please, and come yourself."
+
+In a few minutes the clerk entered, followed by the servant.
+
+"Glad to see you, Doughty. Got a message for me? Take a seat."
+
+"Yes, sir. A message from Mr. Aldridge. This is it."
+
+"Thank you. I want you, now that you have come so opportunely, to
+witness my signature to documents of importance. They concern the sale
+of my mother's annuity and property. I am sole surviving trustee to my
+father's will, and I am now about to sign these documents, authorising
+those sales. Stand up, Doughty, and look at me as I sign. James, come
+near. You are near-sighted. Closer still. Now!"
+
+He signed, and they after him.
+
+"That will do, James. It is exceedingly unlikely there will be any
+dispute. In case there should, all you have to remember is that I signed
+these papers in your presence, and you in mine, and in the presence of
+one another. I am not sure the last is necessary, but never mind. You
+need not trouble yourselves to remember all I have said about the matter
+contained in the papers. You may go now, James."
+
+When the servant had retired he said to the clerk: "Thank you, Doughty.
+You came very luckily. I will ask you to take these documents back to
+Mrs. Grey's. Usually such matters reach one through an attorney, but I
+am sorry to say this is not a very ordinary or pleasant transaction.
+Leave the documents with Mrs. Grey. There is no answer. Then go back to
+the Bank, and ask Mr. Aldridge to come to me here this afternoon or
+evening. I shall not be in town to-morrow, and have something to
+communicate to him. This is the reply to the note you brought from him."
+
+When the manager of the Daneford Bank arrived at the Manor House he was
+shown into the presence of the banker.
+
+Grey received him with more of the old grave blandness than he had
+displayed for a long time.
+
+"Aldridge," he said, "I am sorry I have a little bad news. It does not
+concern the Bank. It is worse than that. I wish to Heaven it did concern
+the Bank. We can bear reverses in business better than home troubles."
+He paused, with his eyes fixed on the ground, in deep thought.
+
+Aldridge moved his chair closer to Grey's, to show he was giving his
+best attention. He did not speak.
+
+"You can meet a business difficulty face to face; but you shrink from
+difficulties or unpleasantnesses which bring the names of those you love
+and honour into the public mouth."
+
+It was plain to Aldridge Grey was weighing his words with the nicest
+care. The manager considered it better to preserve his silence still.
+
+"I am going now," pursued Grey, "to place myself upon your honour----"
+
+"I am sure you may do that," interrupted Aldridge with respectful
+emphasis. The respect in the emphasis was not that of employed to
+employer, but of sympathiser for a fellow-man, an esteemed fellow-man in
+trouble.
+
+Something in Aldridge's tone struck Grey. He stood up, stretched out his
+hand to Aldridge, took the manager's hand in his, and said impressively:
+"Aldridge, I am sure of that."
+
+"Thank you. Now you may go on. I will not interrupt again."
+
+"You know my mother has advertised her house and furniture for sale?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And that she is about to sell her annuity."
+
+"So I have heard."
+
+"I, as trustee, have just signed the documents. There is talk about
+this affair in town?"
+
+"There is; a good deal. People cannot understand it."
+
+"It came as a great shock and surprise to me when I heard it. It was
+that shock knocked me up in London."
+
+"I thought it must have had something to do with it."
+
+"It was the cause of it. Well, I am placed in a horribly awkward
+position. My mother is called upon to pay a large sum of money, say
+eight to ten thousand. Of course, we could easily manage that."
+
+"Easily, I should think," said Aldridge, thinking with pride of the
+gallant stand the Bank had made in the late ruinous times.
+
+"But," continued Grey, "if I paid the money now, I might be called upon
+to pay a similar or even a larger sum in six months, and again six
+months later, and I could not stand that kind of thing."
+
+Aldridge shook his head and looked grave in confirmation of Grey's
+decision.
+
+"The things must be sold," continued the banker. "When she has no
+property to pledge, no annuity to pawn, I can make a suitable allowance
+to her. The fact is, Aldridge, my poor mother has lost all her money in
+gambling on the Stock Exchange. Her name does not appear. She did it
+through some fellow in London. Now you see how there is nothing for it
+but to sell out. You see that clearly?"
+
+"Nothing in the world could be plainer. A woman of her age!"
+
+"Isn't it extraordinary in a woman of her years?"
+
+"Wonderful!"
+
+"Now I told you I threw myself on your honour, and what I want you to do
+is to keep the matter rigidly to yourself, except in such cases as you
+in your judgment think silence would injure the Bank, and then you must
+not reveal the facts except upon a pledge of strict, the strictest
+secrecy. No earthly consideration would induce me to allow my poor
+mother's name to become a byword in Daneford, where she has been
+respected for so many years. Aldridge, Aldridge, my friend, I count on
+you to do this for me."
+
+This time it was the manager who stood up. He went to the banker, caught
+his hand, and said: "You may count upon me in this, Mr. Grey, as upon
+yourself. I should be the last in the world to make idle talk about the
+name of Grey, and you may rely upon my keeping the secret from everyone,
+except when the interest of the Bank is at stake."
+
+"Thank you, my dear Aldridge. It is a great relief to me to have opened
+my mind to you. You are the only man whose discretion I could trust in
+so delicate a matter."
+
+In a little while Aldridge took his leave, and Grey was left alone.
+
+"By Jove," he mused, "that returned letter was a splendid tonic. It
+pulled me together like magic. I feel a new man now--a new man. Now I
+have only one person to take care of--myself. She would not hear me.
+Because I tried to save her the misery I myself endured, because I
+represented things to her as flourishing when all was gone, she turns on
+me, throws me off, draws attention to my credit and my reputation when I
+should have neither if the truth were known, if the lesser truth were
+known; and by opening up inquiry leading to the discovery of the lesser
+truth, the disclosure of the greater was risked.
+
+"By Jove, that returned letter was my salvation! She thought she was
+treating me as I deserved, severely; all the time she was only nerving
+me to lace my armour and prepare for the great fight. I can easily
+provide now against any course she may take short of denunciation, and I
+don't think she will go so far as that.
+
+"The reason for the sale, as Aldridge has heard it, will be known under
+pledges of secrecy to-morrow to half-a-dozen of the most important men
+in Daneford. That will be more than enough to counteract any sinister
+rumours. The pledge of secrecy extracted from the men whom Aldridge
+tells will not operate at all, save in making those to whom they give
+the news very careful as to whom they in turn tell it. Thus it will
+never come to her ears, even if she stays in Daneford, which I doubt;
+and thus she will never have an opportunity of denying it."
+
+He got up and walked about. His elation was great. He swelled out his
+chest, threw back his shoulders, and allowed his arms to swing at his
+sides. His thoughts ran on:
+
+"I have been fencing with death, and for the moment I have disarmed my
+foe. That sale might have ruined me, given me over to the hangman; I
+have averted the danger, and turned the attack into a source of
+security. In a moment of weakness I told her, in a moment of strength I
+turned the feeble act into a fresh rampart; for how can I tell, if
+things went on smoothly, as they had been going (had she not shown the
+danger-signal at the Consols), I might not, in the weak and pitiful
+state I then was in, have told her all? Now a gulf lies between her and
+me. It is unlikely we shall ever meet again. She had the power of
+exercising an influence over me which might not be to my safety. I have
+ensured my future safety by getting away from the influence of the only
+person who could make me indiscreetly talkative."
+
+He paused in his walk and drew himself up before the glass. Much of the
+haggard expression had left his face. He was flushed and
+handsome-looking as of old. His eyes shone with excitement and the
+anticipation of triumph.
+
+Once more he strode up and down the room.
+
+"I feel five-and-twenty to-day. Five-and-twenty; not a month older. And
+though in spirits and health and strength I feel no more than half my
+age, I am conscious I carry the experience of a second quarter of a
+century on the shoulders of the first. I could command an army or make
+love to a school-girl. I shall win yet. I shall win in spite of that
+lanky nigger, Sir William. I shall win I know, I feel. These muscles are
+more than a match for his; this head is more than a match for his; and
+in spirits I am a long way his junior. I shall win now, for all
+obstacles are out of my way. She is gone for ever, and she was the last
+link with----Bah! the old time is dead. Earth to earth. I am a new man,
+I say."
+
+In all this he never thought of her as his mother. He always looked upon
+her as she or her; never as mother. He treated her as if the spirit of
+his mother had left the body, and the spirit of another, a stranger, had
+entered in.
+
+That night he slept well, and started early for the Castle the next
+day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+"SIR WILLIAM----" "NO; MIDHARST."
+
+
+"The day after to-morrow I must leave, Maud. I shall have to spend a day
+or two in London, and then I sail."
+
+He was looking down very gravely at her.
+
+She looked up gravely at him. "I wish you had not to go away."
+
+"So do I, but there is no help for it. I would much rather stay in
+England and look after affairs here. You never can trust anyone to carry
+out your plans. You must see the men at work, or they must know you may
+at any moment see them. I have planned my own designs and decorations,
+and tradesmen consider it a point of honour to rob an amateur. They will
+not do what an amateur tells them, and they are sure to cheat him most
+liberally. The father of a friend of mine determined upon doing up his
+house himself. He was not a good man of business like me, but, like me,
+he knew what he wanted done. He made a rough estimate of what the job
+would cost him, and when it was finished he found the bills came to
+about three times his estimate. He got an accountant to look through the
+bills. The first item the accountant called the attention of my friend's
+father to was six white marble chimney-pieces for bedrooms at two
+hundred pounds each. He had told the builder to get three
+chimney-pieces; there were places in the house for only three of the
+sort. On investigation the builder stated six had been got, three
+having been broken after arrival. 'But,' said the accountant, 'you have
+not allowed anything for the old ones. What did they fetch?' 'Oh,' said
+the builder, 'they fell to pieces, and I broke them up.' Subsequently,
+when going over the newly-built house of a friend, he found two
+chimney-pieces, one like his old and one like his new ones. 'Where did
+you get these?' 'Bought them for a dead bargain. Some man, who heard I
+was building, sold me the old one for thirty-five, and the new one for
+seventy.' The visitor asked for a description of the seller. It exactly
+corresponded with the builder. Subsequently it came out that the new
+chimney-pieces had been kept buried in sand until they could be removed
+in a cart under a load of straw, and that the old ones had gone out
+covered with a layer of rubbish!"
+
+"Do you not think, William, that if Mr. Grey would consent to look after
+the men, such things might be prevented?"
+
+"Yes; I have thought of asking Mr. Grey. But he is such a busy man. He
+will have, I daresay, a great deal to do on account of your father's
+will. It would be too much to expect him to spare time for coming down
+here and looking after a lot of lazy workmen. In fact, it would be out
+of the question. As to a clerk of works, or anything of that kind, I
+would not dream of such a thing. They wink at scamped work for a
+consideration, and order things they do not want. Dear Maud, I weary you
+with lime-and-mortar matter."
+
+"No, no, no; I like to hear you talk in this way. It is as if--as
+if----" She paused, unable for the moment to mould her thoughts into
+words.
+
+"As if what, Maud?"
+
+"As if you liked to talk to me in this way."
+
+Her eyes were fixed on his, his on hers. For a moment neither spoke.
+Then he said:
+
+"Yes, I do like to talk to you in this familiar business-way. You know
+we are alone now in the world; and if I don't talk freely to you, to
+whom else on earth am I?"
+
+"I had a note from Mr. Grey this morning, saying he has returned, and
+will be here to-day. Had you not better speak to him?"
+
+"I will. That is settled. If he hesitates, I shall not allow him to do
+it; but I shall try what he will say. Even if he refuses he may be able
+to suggest some trustworthy person he knows. You see, I have been so
+short a time in England, and am such an utter stranger here, I know no
+one."
+
+When Grey came he found the cousins together. Some routine matters
+having been disposed of, Sir William asked the banker if he would take a
+stroll with him across the Island, as he wished to speak to him about
+business.
+
+The banker would be most happy.
+
+Arm-in-arm the two left the Castle-yard, gained the grass, and walked
+towards the Ferry.
+
+"Mr. Grey," began the young man, "I leave this neighbourhood the day
+after to-morrow."
+
+"I am sincerely sorry to hear you say so."
+
+"Thank you. Now I am going to try and induce you to let me get even
+further into your debt----"
+
+"Sir William, it is quite unnecessary for you to say a word with such a
+view. I told you to draw for any moderate sum you might require, and
+your cheque would be honoured----"
+
+"I am much obliged to you; but it is not money this time."
+
+Grey bowed. He wondered: "Has he already proposed, and is he going to
+talk to me about the will? This looks bad."
+
+"You know what rogues there are in the world?"
+
+"I should think I do. I have excellent cause to know of some kinds of
+rogues," Grey said. He thought: "This is becoming exciting--diverting."
+
+The banker was in the most excellent spirits this morning. He felt like
+an unruly schoolboy when the holidays come. He was beyond the arm of
+physical punishment still, and the phase of mental torture in which he
+had existed for some time had yielded to his present jovial bravado. His
+old sense of the ridiculous had returned upon him and expelled
+self-consideration. While he felt profoundly the necessity for
+precautions, he was careless as to the means he used, and inclined to
+estimate nothing as more than a grim joke.
+
+"You see," continued Sir William, "now that I am leaving, I am going to
+throw myself upon your indulgence and good-nature. You and I have a lot
+of waiting upon legal forms before we can act officially or
+authoritatively in the new positions we find ourselves."
+
+"A lot of waiting upon legal forms," assented Grey; and added mentally,
+"Thank God!"
+
+"But I suppose no one is going to say I am not the right man."
+
+"You may build on that. I daresay"--with a bland humorous smile--"I
+daresay few have greater interest in disputing your identity (there can
+be no dispute of your descent) than the representatives of Miss
+Midharst; and I"--with a bow and deprecating wave of the long arms and
+white hands--"have no such intention."
+
+"That is all right. Well, now I want to spend the most of that money you
+were so kind as to advance me on this place"--with a comprehensive sweep
+of the hand taking in the Castle and all the Island.
+
+"Quite so. I understood that from you before. I do not think you could
+do better with the money, Sir William."
+
+"I am glad you approve. I not only want your approval, but your
+co-operation also. Will you help me?"
+
+"To the utmost of my ability."
+
+"I do not intend beginning for a month or so; but as I shall then be
+away, I shall be unable to ensure the carrying out of my plans unless I
+can count on the friendly supervision, however slight, of someone who
+would take an interest in the work of renovation and improvement----"
+
+"And," interrupted the banker with a cordial smile, "you wish to know if
+I would undertake to see your wishes carried out. Nothing in the world
+could give me greater pleasure. I do not think you could suggest
+anything I would more gladly undertake."
+
+"Allow me to explain a little."
+
+"I assure you no explanation is necessary."
+
+"Excuse me, I think it is. It would be the height of impertinence in me
+to ask you to do anything of the kind, but----"
+
+"But that you know I shall always be only too glad to be of any service
+to Sir William Midharst."
+
+"You really overwhelm me with your goodness. I feel very much at taking
+such favours from one who has known me so short a time."
+
+"When people are well met, good-feeling ripens very quickly. Do you,
+Sir William, believe in love at first sight?"
+
+"Yes," said the baronet, looking up with an expression of surprise and
+curiosity. "Why?" he asked, in a tone of perplexity.
+
+"Because," answered the banker, "I believe in friendship at first sight;
+and, if you will allow me to say so, I took a most friendly interest in
+you from the first moment I saw you and knew who you were."
+
+"Indeed!" murmured the young man, in a tone of reverie. Then, with a
+faint smile, he added: "I certainly thought we waited a little time to
+understand one another."
+
+"I have no doubt it appeared so to you; but I was impressed at the very
+beginning. You must remember the circumstances under which we met. I
+had no idea who you were, and I was then under the impression the full
+responsibility of Miss Midharst's guardianship lay on me. In her
+interest I was bound to be cautious. Believe me, my theory of friendship
+at first sight is quite as true as that of love at first sight."
+
+"It may be--you may be right. I have never considered the question
+before. I was about to explain a few moments ago that I could not think
+of asking you to take any trouble in this matter, only I know you will
+often be here to see Miss Midharst on business, or through kindness; and
+I thought perhaps you would not consider it too much trouble to watch
+how these men get on now and then, once a fortnight or so."
+
+"Rely upon it I shall look after them much oftener than that. You may
+put your mind perfectly at rest, Sir William. I have some knowledge of
+things of this kind; a banker meets all sorts of men as customers, and
+picks up all sorts of odds and ends of knowledge, so that there is
+scarcely a trade or profession I am not familiar with the roguish side
+of."
+
+"I must extract one promise from you."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"That you will not put yourself to any inconvenience in this matter."
+
+"I promise you most unhesitatingly. A little change will do me good, and
+it will be a most salutary change to come down here now and then and see
+how things are going on."
+
+"But you really need never come unless you want to see Miss Midharst."
+
+"Quite so."
+
+They separated soon afterwards.
+
+"What luck I have had!" thought Grey, as he drove towards home. "To
+think of how that young man played into my hands is most amusing, quite
+comic. He seemed to divine that I wanted an excuse for being as much at
+the Castle as possible. What more ample pleas for going than that I have
+to confer with Miss Midharst over matters connected with her father's
+will, and have undertaken to overlook the works about to be started by
+Sir William at the Island? Stop! That thought is worth consideration."
+
+For a few minutes he lay back in the fly perfectly still, profoundly
+absorbed in thought.
+
+"It's worth doing, and I'll do it," was the concluding link in his
+thoughts.
+
+"Driver!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Back to the Ferry again. I have forgotten something."
+
+"All right, sir."
+
+When he arrived at the Castle he asked for the baronet, and found him at
+once.
+
+"By the way, Sir William, a matter of no absolute importance, but still
+of some sentimental value to me, escaped my memory when I was a while
+ago saying good-bye to you, as I thought, for some months."
+
+"And what was that?"
+
+"You know there is no hurry about Sir Alexander's will?"
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Well, nothing need be done about it for months."
+
+"What then?"
+
+"You will be back in a few months, less than six?"
+
+"Let us hope so."
+
+"Well, I shall do nothing about the will until you come back. We can
+then put our heads together and see what is best for Miss Midharst's
+interest."
+
+"I do not fully understand you, Mr. Grey."
+
+"What I intend doing is this," Grey explained: "I am not bound to do
+anything immediately about the will. I know the will is all right. I
+will pay the small legacies myself and get rid of them, and when you
+come back you and I shall go over the whole matter. I shall prove the
+will and administer to the estate, and then you and I will consult as to
+what had best be done for Miss Midharst's interests with the money."
+
+"But what is your object in delay?"
+
+"Just a whim."
+
+"I hope, Mr. Grey," said the young man, with warm indignation, "you have
+not for a moment fancied I do not think you fully capable in every way
+of acting in this matter?"
+
+"The shadow of such a suspicion never crossed my mind, I assure you, Sir
+William. But cannot you understand that the position I occupy of common
+friend to the two who now compose the house of Midharst would make me
+desirous of having the advice of the head of the house on important
+matters, such as the disposal of Sir Alexander's fortune?"
+
+The young man looked fixedly, searchingly, at the banker's face for a
+moment before he answered. When he spoke, he replied with great
+deliberateness:
+
+"There may be a good deal in what you say."
+
+"You give me your confidence. You leave me to act as your deputy while
+you are away. You, in a manner, place yourself in my hands; and you are
+content with me as the guardian of your cousin's fortune. You rely upon
+my integrity, upon my honour. I feel the burden I lie under. I should
+feel less weighed down if you will accept my proposal as a small sign of
+the esteem I hold you in, and of my simple faith with regard to your
+cousin's affairs."
+
+The banker held out his hand. He had made his speech in his old and best
+manner.
+
+The young man caught his hand swiftly, eagerly.
+
+"Grey, I did not hope to find a man like you in you when we met first. I
+know what stuff you are made of now. We shall be close friends while we
+live."
+
+"Sir William----"
+
+"No; Midharst."
+
+"Midharst, we shall."
+
+They parted.
+
+When Grey found himself alone once more, he whispered to the leafless
+trees:
+
+"Now, Mr. Prompter, ring down the drop. That's a very pretty end of the
+fourth act."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE PARTING.
+
+
+Sir William dined with his cousin that day. He was to say good-bye to
+her that evening; for, although he did not intend leaving the
+neighbourhood before the day after next, he had put off some business
+until the last hour, and had been compelled to give up his remaining day
+to dry detail and humdrum affairs.
+
+It was only latterly, within the past few days--in fact, since he had
+come into the neighbourhood of Daneford--he had discovered dry detail
+and humdrum affairs. Of old details had been to him fascinating, and
+affairs a passion. When a new subject came to his hand he devoured it.
+When a novel situation presented itself, he dashed at it as impetuously
+as a brave soldier at a breach.
+
+Now all was changed. When he saw the Castle first his impulse was to set
+men at work on it instantly. He wished to have it put in order at once;
+and nothing but the appearance of indecent haste deterred him from doing
+so. To-morrow he had to meet, among others, the people to whom he had
+entrusted the work, and he wished them all at the bottom of the
+Weeslade.
+
+"I never knew until now I had such a taste for rural scenery. When I was
+away I used to think that if I got back to England I should spend all my
+time in London. Now the 'Warfinger Hotel,' overlooking the broad placid
+Weeslade, seems to me all I could desire, with now and then a visit to
+the Island--a stroll through its grounds and halls alone, or with
+Cousin Maud.
+
+"How cool and fresh the air is around here! Coming into a place like
+this out of the great cities of the world is like escaping from a
+riotous street into a cathedral where a choir is practising hymns.
+
+"I wonder does she sing? I know she loves pansies best of all the
+flowers.
+
+"But, as I was saying, it is strange how one's most settled ideas change
+as one grows older. Of course, that is but natural. When I got that pony
+first I thought all living creatures must admire and envy me. There was
+only one thing I envied of those around me, and that was their privilege
+of standing and seeing such a splendid sight as I and my pony going
+past. I would freely have given all my possessions, except my pony, for
+the power of admiring on foot at the roadside the fine spectacle I and
+my mount made riding by.
+
+"Fancy Sir Alexander not keeping a horse and groom for Maud! He didn't
+ride of late years, but that is no reason why she should not. She can
+ride; she told me so. It is too bad to think of the dark seclusion the
+poor girl has been kept in. I wonder how she lived. Upon my soul it was
+a shame! There all day long, all the year round, in this gloomy relic of
+the cold past, with no other change than a few hours in this sleepy
+place--this humdrum city of Daneford. I am surprised she did not die. It
+was enough to kill anyone. Fancy passing a whole lifetime away in that
+old place and this dull town! Monstrous!
+
+"Of course I shouldn't mind it, as I was saying a moment ago, for I have
+been in the world and seen as much as I want to see. I should feel quite
+content to live here always. I should never care for anything better
+than a bed at the 'Warfinger Hotel,' and a stroll now and then about the
+Midharsts' old place where the Fleureys once lived, a power in the
+state. But Maud living here! Monstrous!
+
+"I know what I'll do when I come back--I never thought of that
+before--I'll get the house in St. James's Square put in order, and she
+and Mrs. Grant shall go up there, and someone will bring out Maud, and
+she shall be the beauty of the year. All the town will talk of the
+lovely Miss Midharst. Then I can go and stay at Warfinger and--and see
+to improvements, and so on; and then if Maud wanted me she can write or
+telegraph. I can fill up a telegraph-form with only the word 'Come,' and
+she can keep it in her purse and send it off the moment she wishes to
+see me. I'll leave word at the telegraph-office in Daneford, that
+anyone bringing me that telegram in half an hour shall have a
+sovereign.
+
+"I daresay I could have a wire to the Island, so there need be no delay.
+But it would look strange. I'll make the messenger's fee five pounds,
+that will be better.
+
+"I shall keep a portmanteau always ready packed, so that there will be
+no delay after getting the telegram. Even supposing the telegram does
+not come for a week or fortnight, I may run up to London to see Maud and
+Mrs. Grant, and make my mind easy about them.
+
+"While they are away I can have alterations made. I can have all the
+repairs and alterations done while I am in Egypt overhauled and
+perfected. Maud may like many things changed; and, of course, anything
+Maud wants to be done shall be done. Of course. Fancy Maud saying she
+would like something or other done, and my saying, 'No, Maud; I cannot
+do that!' Fancy such a thing! I wish she would ask me for something. It
+is so dull to have nothing to do for Maud.
+
+"Before I knew Maud--it seems a long time, and yet it is only a few
+days: it is strange to think how long ago my previous life seems--how
+much time the past ten or a dozen days cover. I have often seen
+painters, when they had painted-in the solid objects of their pictures,
+go over parts with thin transparent colour, and, as if by magic, the
+ruin or the mountain that a moment ago pressed offensively forward
+retired into its proper place in the composition, and gathered round it
+mellow repose and forgetfulness. This glaze takes the heat and worry out
+of the picture. It gives it moist perfume and collected dignity. The few
+days I have spent here have acted like the glaze on the substantial
+background of facts in my past life. Why?
+
+"Why? Never mind why; I am content. I like the collectedness that has
+come upon me. It cannot arise from the title or the estates. I am
+leaving all the money behind me, and for all practical purposes the
+title also. When I go away I shall be nothing more than a Government
+clerk in the foreign service. When I get there, the few Europeans I know
+may not have heard of Sir Alexander's death. It is not the title or the
+money. What has done it?
+
+"Before I knew Maud I always fancied anyone called Maud should be young
+and fragile and exquisitely fair; and my Maud (she is mine, for are we
+not of the one house?) is young and fragile and exquisitely fair.
+
+"Maud.
+
+"What a musical name it is! The lips and ears never tire of it. The
+oftener you say it the more beautiful it seems. It is a name you must
+speak softly. You cannot shout it out or fancy yourself saying it
+angrily. Imagine for a moment my speaking angrily to my Maud!
+
+"Speaking angrily to Maud! The mere supposition is like a blow. Maud is
+sanctified to me doubly, as being the last daughter of our family, and
+as being friendless.
+
+"When I go away I shall leave my fortune and my title behind me. Shall I
+leave anything else? Yes, everything else. Maud.
+
+"If I leave my fortune and my title and Maud behind me, what do I take
+with me?
+
+"Nothing worth the carriage.
+
+"Bounteous God, I thank Thee with all my heart, and all my soul, and all
+the faculties of my nature, for having given love to man, and having
+given me to love!"
+
+The evening of the day Grey had visited the Island after his return from
+London, the two cousins sat alone in the little drawing-room after
+dinner.
+
+"Maud, will you take great care of yourself while I am away?" he asked
+very earnestly.
+
+She was sitting by a small ebony table in front of the fire. He reclined
+in an easy-chair at the opposite side of the grate.
+
+She looked up with a childish amused smile, and answered:
+
+"Yes; I will try and take care of myself while you are away. This is a
+very safe place to live in. No one can get near us without a boat, and
+everyone knows that a farmer's house would be better for thieves than
+Island Castle."
+
+"And yet, Maud, though no man come, something very precious might be
+stolen by a thief while I am away." He spoke gravely, with that old
+far-away look in his eyes.
+
+"And who is the thief, and what is the thing?" she asked, with a bright
+smile.
+
+"Ruffian Death," he answered, for a moment overwhelmed by some dark
+dread and chilling foreboding.
+
+She grew paler in her black dress; the hand resting on the table seemed
+whiter than life.
+
+"But, William, I am quite well; I never felt better in all my life; and
+I think, considering what has lately happened, that is very wonderful."
+She was anxious, and looked into his face with eyes of grave solicitude.
+
+Still he was following up the chain of his thoughts, and for the moment,
+unaware, he uttered them:
+
+"There is death in every day, danger in every hour; you must encounter
+the danger. The way in which you meet the danger decides your relations
+with death. Life is a series of compromises with death. I wish I were
+not going away."
+
+"So do I, indeed, William," she said earnestly. "But you must not be
+uneasy on my part; I am quite well, and shall keep quite well while you
+are away. I should be most unhappy if I thought you went away
+uncomfortable on my account."
+
+The tone of the girl's voice brought him back to a consciousness of the
+situation. His manner changed. He looked up at her and smiled.
+
+"Unhappy about you, Maud! Not I. You must not think that. I was talking
+generalities; I was not alluding to your case. You see, when a man has
+been a long time in a foreign country, where the speech of the people
+in the streets is unknown to him, and where, among the few people who
+speak European languages, there are only a couple for whose society he
+cares, he falls into one bad habit certainly, that of looking at all
+things in the abstract; and into another bad habit probably, that of
+muttering aloud to himself. I am afraid I have been treating you to a
+small example of both vices." He smiled brightly, and held out his hand
+to her.
+
+She took the small white hand off the ebony table and placed it in his.
+The brown fingers closed over the white ones, and looking down at the
+joined hands he said:
+
+"Like the rough brown sheath of the cocoa-nut, and the snow-white fruit
+within."
+
+"What?"
+
+"My hand round yours."
+
+She said nothing.
+
+He released her hand.
+
+"You will take care of that hand, Maud, while I am away? Some time
+someone will value that hand more than the regalia in the Tower. It will
+be to him above all price. He would like to set guards over it as they
+set guards over the royal jewels, and yet would allow no one to act as
+sentinel but himself."
+
+Such talk was new to her. She did not say anything.
+
+"We have grown good friends in the few days we have been meeting one
+another?"
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"The best of friends?"
+
+"The best of friends."
+
+"And all the time I am away you will never cease to think of me as your
+best friend?"
+
+"Never."
+
+It almost made her cry, she could not tell why, to hear him asking such
+a question.
+
+"And should you be in any need of aid or advice, you will let me know at
+once?"
+
+"At once."
+
+There was a pause during which Mrs. Grant entered the room.
+
+The baronet got up, and sitting down beside the widow, said to both the
+women:
+
+"I had a chat with Mr. Grey to-day apropos of my going, and nothing
+could have been nicer or more gratifying. He is, without exception, the
+most straightforward and honourably-minded man I have ever met. He has,
+Mrs. Grant, not only undertaken to keep his eye on the workmen when they
+come here, but he has without any hint or suggestion on my part,
+proposed not to do anything final with Maud's fortune until I return.
+And, in addition to all this, he will pay all the legacies out of his
+own pocket and at his own risk. Maud, I cannot say how grateful I am
+that you have fallen into such excellent hands. You may place yourself
+wholly under his direction while I am away. You need not consult me on
+any subject of business; you will be quite safe with him, and he has a
+thousand times my knowledge of business."
+
+"Did I not tell you so?" asked Mrs. Grant of Miss Midharst.
+
+"Yes," answered Maud softly.
+
+"What was it?" asked the baronet, turning with a gratified smile towards
+the widow.
+
+"I told dear Maud long ago that she might have full confidence in Mr.
+Grey," answered Mrs. Grant, with lively self-satisfaction.
+
+"And you told her what was perfectly true. I must go now. I shall not
+see you again, Mrs. Grant, until I come back from Egypt. I cannot tell
+you how happy it makes me to know how good, how loyal Maud's two
+friends are--yourself and Mr. Grey."
+
+He had shaken both Maud's hands, and kissed her lips for the first time,
+and shaken hands with Mrs. Grant, and was gone.
+
+Her cousin William was gone, and she should not see him again for
+months. What a pity he had to go! When he was by her side, or in
+Daneford, she felt quite safe; nothing could harm her while he was near.
+When her father died she had felt alone and cold in the world. She had
+been susceptible to attack on all sides. She had no confidence in
+herself; and although Mr. Grey had done everything man could do for her,
+she owned no claim upon him.
+
+But this cousin, this man of her own family, who, finding her timid and
+unguarded, sought the privilege of shielding her from the world and the
+bleak unknown lying beyond Island Castle--was a new experience, a
+delightful improvement on the present.
+
+But no sooner had she learned to lean upon his reassuring strength than
+he must hurry away. What a pity!
+
+Her cousin William would come back, no doubt; but Egypt was far off,
+very far off, and the power of his protection was reduced greatly by
+distance.
+
+Why should she think she would need protection of any kind? Surely Mrs.
+Grant and Mr. Grey were protection enough in a quiet well-ordered place
+like Daneford and its neighbourhood?
+
+Yes; but Cousin William had been more than a protector; he had been a
+companion as well, and there was something in his talk and manner
+neither Mrs. Grant nor Mr. Grey possessed. She was always content with
+what Mrs. Grant said, or what Mr. Grey said. Their words always
+exhausted the topic; but when he had spoken she felt led on to wonder
+what lay behind and beyond what he had said.
+
+She had told Mrs. Grant truly he had interested her; and although he
+always had spoken to her as though there could be no question of the
+supremacy of his will over hers, she liked that.
+
+When Mrs. Grant told her to do a certain thing, the doing of it was dry
+and uninteresting. When Cousin William had told her to do a thing, she
+always did it with the sound of his voice in her ears; or she had
+thought what mystery of Egypt he had before his eyes when he gave her
+the command; or she had tried to fathom his mind as to the manner in
+which he would best like to see the thing done.
+
+But now all was cold and monotonous and dull. Really the place had got
+so quiet of late that she found her chief delight in her old books of
+Egypt, and in the geography of that country, and in following on the map
+the overland route he had taken to Africa.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+BETWEEN THE LIGHTS.
+
+
+The day Henry Walter Grey bade good-bye to the young baronet he went
+home to the Manor House in the best spirits.
+
+That latest stroke of his had proved marvellously successful. In fact,
+the result completely astonished him. Sir William had been civil,
+polite, conciliatory to him up to that last interview. During it the
+young man had thrown aside all reserve and rushed into his arms with
+enthusiasm. This young man, of whom he had stood in dread a few days
+ago, had been not only neutralised, but converted into a friend.
+
+And at what cost? The voluntary promise that he, Grey, would take no
+steps about the will until the return of the head of the house. What a
+transcendent joke! There was nothing like it on the stage. Nothing
+approaching it. He had won the young man by undertaking not to invest
+money already stolen and made away with!
+
+And how had he done it? Not by worrying and sneaking and shivering and
+anticipating all kinds of evils; not by thinking and attending to his
+own fears and hopes connected with matters which had been done and could
+not be undone. No; but by thinking of what other people might do adverse
+to him, and trying to out-manoeuvre them. The general who, upon
+hearing the enemy is advancing, does nothing but contemplate the horrors
+of defeat, will inevitably be defeated. It is with matters of business
+as with a general in the field--to provide against nothing but defeat
+is to ensure defeat and final disaster. To dread a disease is to open
+the door for its reception.
+
+Away then for ever with doubts and fears! He was still a player in the
+game. It was a game of skill, and he must win. The way to win is never
+to think of yourself or of the result of winning or losing, but to
+concentrate every human faculty upon the game itself, and the plans for
+effecting the defeat of your opponents.
+
+And now how did his great game stand? Let him see.
+
+Sir William Midharst would be away in Egypt some while, some months, say
+three to four months, during which time it was necessary to win, by any
+means he could employ, this girl Maud. He was the guardian of her
+fortune and the superintendent of works about to be carried on at the
+Castle. This gave him not an excuse so much as a command to be
+frequently there. Thus he should have excellent opportunities of
+pressing his suit. He was to consult Miss Midharst upon alterations, _et
+cetera_; and that supplied the means of obtaining frequent and long
+interviews with her in which they should often be alone. Good, very
+good!
+
+He felt strong and healthy and capable. His illness had cleared away the
+confusion which had been gathering round him; he slept better of nights,
+and awoke cheerful.
+
+He knew he should be able to interest Maud, and to interest a woman is
+to win her. Those solemn, lank, poetical men, like the new baronet, took
+such a time to make up their minds, that a man of sanguine temperament
+like himself won a woman before one like Sir William determined on the
+first sigh. Girls don't like sighs; they prefer laughter. Good!
+
+The Bank was all right now, and when he had married Maud there was no
+one to come and pry into matters. Every one would think by his marriage
+with her he had acquired upwards of half a million; and for a man in his
+position to have the reputation of riches is almost as good as to have
+riches. Splendid!
+
+He had provided against injury arising out of that sale of the lease and
+furniture and annuity. He had not been in a position to resist his
+mother. He knew that, having made up her mind to sell, she would sell,
+no matter what it cost her feelings. She would threaten to denounce him
+rather than be baulked in doing what he supposed she intended with the
+money. He did not think she would have gone the length of denouncing
+him. She had done worse. She had shown herself indifferent to anything
+he might have to say. She could not know but that letter of his told her
+he had paid back all the money, or that it contained a plea for a short
+respite. She had not cared what happened to him; and he--he had taken
+means to protect himself. He did not feel angry with her in the least.
+He had simply cut her off from his mind. There was no such person any
+longer. That returned letter informed him of her death. Those documents
+he had signed for her were announcements of her decease. That auction
+bell would ring for the interment of the past and the future which had
+of late given him trouble. With her went everything he loved. He was
+alone now, face to face with his fate, and free from any unmanning
+influence or depressing considerations. This was best of all!
+
+As to the other and greater danger, that was scarcely worth counting. So
+far there had not been the shadow of menace. Farleg had, no doubt, got
+out of the country, and was now settled with his wife somewhere out
+West. No reason existed for supposing Farleg would betray him; for he
+had taken hush-money, and no reward had been offered, as nothing had
+been suspected. No; he need not fear that source. Only one thing
+remained to be done. He had shaken off those superstitious terrors which
+had haunted him for a while. He was still menaced by the cancelled pages
+in London; that was the only danger ahead. All his energy for the future
+should be directed towards avoiding the consequences of his theft.
+
+The day Sir William left Daneford Grey spent at the Bank. His private
+correspondence and such account-books as he himself kept, to which no
+one but himself had access, were in arrears, and had to be brought up to
+the current day. He had to give a long audience to Mr. Aldridge, and
+several merchants wanted to see him, so that the hours were fully
+occupied, and when he got home he felt tired; it was dark, and he
+resolved not to go to the Island until the early part of the next
+afternoon.
+
+When next day he got to the Castle, he found Mrs. Grant in the great
+hall about to go out.
+
+"I am lucky to meet you, Mrs. Grant. If you are not in a great hurry I
+should like a few words with you."
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Grey; I shall be most happy. I am going to town for a
+few things Miss Midharst and myself want. I have not been out since poor
+Sir Alexander's death; but I'm in no hurry."
+
+They were now in the open air.
+
+"I hope Miss Midharst is quite well?"
+
+"Quite well, thank you."
+
+"And not pining after her handsome cousin?" with a gay smile.
+
+"Handsome! Do you too think him handsome?"
+
+"Yes. But who else thinks him good-looking?" with a still brighter
+smile.
+
+"Miss Midharst says he is one of the handsomest men she ever saw."
+
+"Upon my word I am inclined to believe with her." This was accompanied
+by the brightest smile of all. "It is useful to know what she thinks of
+her cousin's appearance," thought Grey gravely.
+
+"Well, Mr. Grey, I can see nothing handsome about him. I like an
+Englishman to look like an Englishman; but I forgive him his looks
+because of his good behaviour. Nothing could have been better than his
+conduct from first to last. He makes Miss Midharst stay here; he
+promises to do up the Castle and grounds; and last of all, Mr. Grey, he
+speaks of you before he goes away in words which do him credit."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Yes. Nothing could have been more manly than the way he spoke his mind
+to Miss Midharst and myself about you the other evening, the last day
+you were here. I don't think he liked you at first; but he made up for
+that at last. Nothing could be better than what he said."
+
+"I am glad to find he does not misunderstand me." These were two useful
+and significant facts: that Maud thought her cousin good-looking, and
+that her cousin had been favourably impressed by him. "Mrs. Grant," he
+said, after a pause, "you said you were going to town to buy some things
+for yourself and Miss Midharst."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Will you have the goodness to put this parcel in your purse? It is what
+you are entitled to under the will of Sir Alexander."
+
+He held out his hand to her with a bundle of notes.
+
+"I really don't want it now, Mr. Grey," she said, remembering what Sir
+William had told her.
+
+They had already reached the Ferry-slip. He held out his hand to her.
+She held out the notes to him. He smiled, shook his head, shrugged his
+shoulders, and said:
+
+"Give me your hand only. I want to help you into the boat. Put that
+bundle in your pocket. I hope you do not think I want it."
+
+He handed her into the boat, raised his hat, and, when the ferryman had
+pulled a dozen strokes from the slip, raised his hat again and turned
+towards the Castle.
+
+As he walked he thought: "That is not the worst investment I ever made.
+Prompt payment and attention go a long way with women who are no longer
+young. Now for a woman who is young and charming."
+
+"What an agreeable man Sir William is!" said Grey, when he had been some
+time seated with Maud. "So affable, good-natured, and amusing. He is one
+of the most pleasant young men I ever met."
+
+"I am glad you like him," said Maud, a little surprised.
+
+"Like him! Of course I do. He is a man after my own heart. So
+open-minded and full of go, of animal spirits. You very seldom find a
+man who has been long out of Europe retain his animal spirits. The
+inhabitants of Asia and Africa are always afraid of sunstroke or snakes,
+tigers or tyrants. In the tropics no one ever makes a joke. Life is
+always serious there. Who ever heard of an Eastern Joe Miller? No; they
+have proverbs and poetry, but no jokes. When you are always expecting
+to find a snake coiled round the leg of the table, or an official
+waiting outside the door with a drawn sword to cut off your head, you
+are afraid to laugh. Now what I admire most in Sir William is that,
+although he has been long in Africa, he has kept his animal spirits
+unimpaired. Isn't it a great blessing?"
+
+"Yes," answered Maud, in amazement.
+
+"I know it is not what very straitlaced people would like, but the views
+he holds of all serious things are most diverting. I am very sorry I had
+to go away while he was here. It is such a privilege to meet a man like
+him--a man of the world who knows everything, and can laugh at the
+weaknesses and follies of the world, under which heads of weaknesses and
+follies he classes much of what smug respectability calls the Generous
+and Noble Aspirations of Men. I will not say I hold his views, but I
+hold my sides when he tells them. Did you hear any of his stories?"
+
+"No, Mr. Grey," answered Maud, ready to cry. Was there really this
+other, this light and frivolous side to her cousin's character? She
+could hardly believe it. Yet here was Mr. Grey telling her about it, and
+no one could think of doubting Mr. Grey's word.
+
+"Ah! Quite so. Yes. It is likely he thought you might not care for them.
+They might seem profane to you. I have been most unwise. I felt sure he
+had told them to you. He might be displeased with me if he knew I had
+mentioned them to you. Will you promise not to allude to them when you
+speak or write to him? I daresay he will write to you, and you will
+write to him."
+
+"He promised to write, and I promised to write to him."
+
+What a revelation was in the banker's words! Could it be her cousin had
+two sides? If it was so, where did the insincerity end? This was a
+miserable discovery after she had lifted him up in her mind as a perfect
+model of what a man should be.
+
+"Of course you will write to your guardian and your only cousin; but
+mind you are not to say anything about what I have been saying to you. I
+should not mind speaking of it to him in your presence, but a thing of
+that kind in black and white looks very bad. Have you heard from him
+yet?"
+
+"Yes; I got a note saying he was about to set off. It was written
+yesterday."
+
+Her face looked wan and weary. It was disenchanting to hear all this of
+Cousin William. How could it be?
+
+"A bad sign. A very bad sign," thought the banker. "But we must be a
+match for him. We must be a match for him. No precaution shall be
+neglected." Then he said aloud: "I shall be very often at the Castle
+now; for not only shall I have to come and see you, but I am also to
+look after the workmen for Sir William, so that I fear you will have to
+make up your mind to endure a great deal of me."
+
+"I shall be very glad to see you every day. But I think you are doing
+too much for me--for us."
+
+"Miss Midharst, you must understand once for all that there is
+absolutely nothing in my power I am not anxious to do for you
+personally."
+
+He said this with great emphasis and precision, raising his right hand
+slightly towards the ceiling while he spoke, as though calling Heaven
+to witness his words.
+
+She did not know what to say. There was an earnestness in his manner
+forbidding commonplace thanks.
+
+His face suddenly lightened.
+
+"I was about to say that either I or a messenger from the Bank will be
+here every day, and whoever comes can take any orders you and Mrs. Grant
+may have for town. This will save Michael's going in so often. I will
+get you a letter-bag. You shall keep one key and I the other, so there
+will be no danger of letters getting lost. In old times Michael was, of
+course, as safe as the post; but now we shall have comparative
+strangers--clerks and so on--whose honesty has not been so well tried as
+Michael's."
+
+Soon he took his leave. Next day he did not call, but a clerk came with
+a letter-bag and a key. There was nothing in the bag. Miss Midharst had
+no letters. One from Mrs. Grant went back to town. That was all.
+
+When the clerk got to the Bank, he handed the bag to the banker. The
+banker opened it, glanced at the one letter it contained, smiled, put
+Mrs. Grant's among his own letters for post, and whispered to himself:
+"Everything is fair in love and war. If this had been Maud's, I should
+have had just one peep."
+
+Now he began to visit the Castle almost daily. The men had not yet been
+set to work, but already the furniture makers and upholsterers were busy
+in the work-shops. Hangings had been ordered at Paris; designers were
+carrying out plans for restoring the great banqueting-hall to its olden
+splendour; brass-founders were casting fittings; and gardeners had
+inspected the grounds with a view to ascertaining their capabilities.
+
+At first Grey made it a point not to see Maud every time he called. By
+the end of a month he was at the Island six days out of the seven, and
+never left without seeing her.
+
+During that month she had twice written to her cousin. He had carried
+the letters from her to the Bank, and there opened and read them. He
+closed them and sent them on. There had been nothing particular in
+either, beyond copious praise of Grey's great kindness to her, and his
+ceaseless attention to the business of her cousin.
+
+So far all went well. He continued in good spirits, and the people of
+Daneford said he had never looked better or seemed gayer.
+
+His mother's place had been sold out, and she had gone he knew not
+whither.
+
+"That is all the better," he thought. "The stage is clearer, and nothing
+remains to distract my attention from the main thing."
+
+He had been very cautious in his interviews with Maud. He had said or
+done nothing which could give her a hint of his aim. He had been
+good-humouredly and sedulously careful to do all she wished as she
+wished it done. He had taken her and Mrs. Grant for drives in quiet
+country places, where the freshness of their mourning would be free from
+observation and remark. On these occasions, although Maud occupied the
+seat of honour, he was more attentive to her companion.
+
+But the time for winning had a limit, and at the end of the first month
+he gradually changed his manner.
+
+When they met he gazed into her eyes longer and with more interest than
+of yore. He pressed her hand more warmly, and retained it longer. His
+voice, when he spoke to her, was lower and softer. His solicitude for
+her health gained daily, and when they walked out into the grounds
+together, he chose for her the easiest ways, and showed his anxiety that
+her feet should not touch the wet grass, or the ragged brambles her face
+or figure.
+
+He prolonged his visits. He always found an excuse for getting her out
+into the grounds, or into some room where for a time they might be
+alone. When parting from her, he would say, if no one was by:
+
+"I am sorry I must leave now. I am sorry I am obliged to go back to
+Daneford and that lonely Manor. I wish I could stay here."
+
+And she would say:
+
+"I am sure, if you will stay, Mrs. Grant will make you comfortable. But
+you lose too much time for us."
+
+He would answer:
+
+"No. Oh no, dear Miss Midharst. The only pleasant time I have now is
+when I am here, in your society, trying to make this place better for
+you."
+
+Then he would say good-bye impressively, and move off with a dejected
+look, and turn round, when he had taken a few paces, and wave his hand
+to her in a way that said: "Do not grieve because I am sad. I am
+nobody."
+
+This manner set the girl pondering, and she said to the widow one day:
+
+"Mrs. Grant, I think living all alone in that house, where his wife was
+once, is bad for Mr. Grey."
+
+"There is no doubt of it, my child. It will kill him, I am sure. He
+ought to marry again soon."
+
+"Marry again soon!" cried the girl in surprise. The idea that he might
+marry again had never suggested itself to her mind, and it seemed very
+wonderful.
+
+"Yes, my dear. He's a young man. A much younger man than many men of
+thirty."
+
+"I know he is very amusing, but I had never before thought of Mr. Grey
+marrying again."
+
+To Maud the idea was not only novel, but a little shocking at first. She
+had been in the habit of classing him with her father. Now for the first
+time she had come to think of him as a man who was not only not nearly
+so old as her father, but relatively young.
+
+All at once the recent change in his manner towards her struck her, and,
+little as had been her experience of the world, or her knowledge of its
+ways, she could not but see a desire on Mr. Grey's part to be
+particularly agreeable to her. This, coupled with the fact that she
+could no longer regard him as a man the events of whose life were merely
+awaiting the final audit to be posted into the eternal ledger, made her
+feel an awakened interest in him. He was a new man, an individuality
+hitherto unexplored.
+
+Another thing struck her at the same time.
+
+Her cousin, whom she had taken as a grave, serious-minded, chivalric
+soul, turned out to have two sides to his character. When not with her,
+he could be light, trivial, profane.
+
+The banker also had two sides to his character. He was robust, honest,
+jovial, in general. But at home sorrow and loneliness were eating him
+away in the house where once he had been happy with the wife so suddenly
+taken from his side.
+
+What a strange discovery! Were all men who were not as old as her
+father double-sided like these? She should not like to ask even Mrs.
+Grant that question. Then what a contrast did these two men afford: the
+one assuming or wearing naturally towards her the manner of earnest
+collectedness, while towards others he showed questionable levity; the
+other showing her a steady brightness, while in reality his heart was
+consumed by a great sorrow! Were all men like these? How wonderful it
+seemed!
+
+The contrast revealed to her by these two men first aroused Maud
+Midharst to perceive men's minds and ways differed widely from the minds
+and ways of women. Of old she had known men were stronger than women,
+had greater capacity for affairs, more knowledge of the world and more
+wisdom. Until now she had never reached the fact that there were in the
+minds of men faculties differing from those of women, not only in
+quality and intensity, but also in kind. Instantly her wonder at the
+superiority of men left her. She no longer felt astonished at disparity
+between mental faculties common to men and women. She suddenly awakened
+to a curiosity never felt before. She was now interested in all things
+which enabled her to discover where the thoughts of men differed from
+the thoughts of women.
+
+When she had heard her cousin speak on the day her father was buried,
+she had felt surprise and interest. What he said had given her a
+pleasant shock. Now she had gone a post farther on the great road of
+life. She had learned to speculate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+"A WOMAN OF NO NAME."
+
+
+One day when Maud was sitting alone in the library by the fire reading,
+a servant entered with word a lady who declined giving any name wished
+to see Miss Midharst. She was, the servant said, a thin, tall, old lady,
+dressed in black.
+
+No ladies called at the Castle. What could this woman want? Maud
+wondered. Who could she be? A tall, thin, old lady, dressed in black.
+Had she asked by name for Miss Midharst?
+
+"Yes; she said she wanted to see Miss Midharst. I asked her would Mrs.
+Grant do, and she said No, she wanted to see Miss Midharst alone."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Alone."
+
+Who could it be? The last person who had asked to see her and declined
+to give a name was William. (She would write to William to-day and tell
+him what she thought. It was a strange thing for her to have to write to
+him. But she did not know what to do. William was her only friend. She
+was afraid to speak to Mrs. Grant about it. If she mentioned the matter
+to Mrs. Grant, no one could tell but it might get back to Mr. Grey's
+ears, and that would never do. Never.) Ah, the servant is waiting yet.
+
+"Where is the lady?"
+
+"In the hall-room, madame."
+
+"Tell her I will come to her at once."
+
+Maud rose slowly and put down her book. As she moved along the
+corridors, she thought:
+
+"This is most unpleasant, it is terrible. My father is not yet two
+months dead, and Mr. Grey's manner frightens me. At first I did not
+notice it, but now--now I can have no doubt. He has not said anything
+plain yet, but he can mean nothing else. He calls me Maud, and not Miss
+Midharst. He takes my hand, too, when we are alone, and looks in my eyes
+and frightens me. His eyes are queer. When he is looking at me he seems
+suddenly to forget who I am, or where he is. It is only within the past
+week I noticed this; and yesterday he looked at me with those awful
+eyes, and begged me to be good to him and come, for God's sake, and take
+the thing away from the dark passages and the doorways. Then he asked me
+if I smelt blood, and burst out laughing, and said all this was part of
+a play he was writing. Judas Iscariot, the hero of his play! What a
+horrible thought!"
+
+She reached the hall-room. It had long ago been used by the family as a
+breakfast-parlour when few guests were at the Castle; for many years it
+had been made a waiting-room.
+
+Maud opened the door and entered. The day was cold, and she directed her
+glance first towards the fire. No one was there, but she saw standing
+with her back to the window a tall, thin, old woman.
+
+The stranger did not move. She fixed her eyes on Maud, and stood staring
+at the girl.
+
+Maud moved slowly and timidly up the room. When within a couple of yards
+of the other she said:
+
+"I am Miss Midharst. You wish to see me. Will you not take a chair near
+the fire?"
+
+"Yes, I wanted to see you. I want to see you."
+
+She did not move. Her voice was firm and hard, with a tone of menace in
+it.
+
+"I--I cannot recall your face, and the servant did not bring your name."
+
+"We never met before. The servant did not bring you any name, for I have
+none. I am a woman of no name."
+
+"A woman with no name!" cried Maud, with a feeble attempt at a smile.
+There was no provocation for smiles in the words or manner of the
+unknown, and Maud felt uneasy.
+
+"Yes; I once had an honourable name, and was connected with honourable
+people who bore it. But that name was dishonoured by one who owned it,
+and the name died. My name would not live dishonoured." The voice was
+firm and hard still, and the original pose unbroken.
+
+"I am sorry for that," murmured Maud, not knowing anything else to say.
+What a contrast between this unknown visitor and the former! And yet,
+although a strong contrast appeared, there was a subtler similarity.
+
+"And I am sorry for you."
+
+Maud started and repeated: "Sorry for me! Why are you sorry for me?"
+
+"Because you are young. I used once, until lately, to think it a
+privilege to be young; now I consider it a privilege to be very old or
+dead."
+
+Maud felt more and more uncomfortable. This was not a cheerful way of
+looking at things. Maud had quite enough unpleasant matters to occupy
+her mind, and she was quite unstrung. What business had this woman with
+her? She would try. She spoke somewhat tremulously:
+
+"Can I be of any use to you?"
+
+"No. Nor can I be of much to you."
+
+"To me!" said Maud in surprise. "I hope no one has been asking you to
+do anything unreasonable for me. Of course, as I did not know you until
+now, and never heard your name, you will excuse my not thanking you for
+what you may have done for me."
+
+"I have done nothing for you but evil."
+
+"Evil! I assure you you must be mistaken. No one has done me harm, as
+far as I know."
+
+"But there may be evil you do not know of, and I may have been the
+innocent cause of it."
+
+"But if you were innocent you must not trouble yourself about it; and
+besides, whatever the harm was, it has not hurt me, so that you must
+make your mind easy."
+
+"The evil may be done, and yet unfelt, and may be felt later on, and the
+evil may not be done yet."
+
+"I do not clearly understand you."
+
+"I do not intend you should. I do not know why I have spoken so much. I
+cannot say more. I have merely called to deliver into your hands a
+parcel of some consequence. The contents of this parcel is yours. I said
+I cannot do much for you. I can do no more than give you this. You must
+promise me not to open this parcel until to-morrow morning. You need not
+be afraid of it. The things in it are good things. You promise?" The
+woman held out her hand with a small parcel in it.
+
+"Yes," answered Maud, taking the parcel.
+
+At that moment the door opened, and a voice said:
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Midharst; I did not know there was anyone
+here."
+
+Maud turned round, and saw Henry Walter Grey smiling and bowing in the
+doorway. With the handle of the door still in his hand, he took a
+backward step, when the old woman said:
+
+"Come in. I have finished with Miss Midharst."
+
+At the sound of the voice Grey sprang back a step, thrust his head
+forward, and uttered a low cry of surprise and pain.
+
+Maud moved towards him, saying:
+
+"Are you ill, Mr. Grey? Are you ill?"
+
+His face was shrivelled and his mouth hung open.
+
+Before Maud could take another step the hand of the old woman was on her
+shoulder, and the voice of the old woman was in her ear, firm and hard
+as before:
+
+"Remember your promise! Good-bye."
+
+With erect head, bright eyes, and a quick step, the stranger walked to
+the door, on the outside of which Grey stood paralysed. He bowed and
+groaned as she approached, and as she passed him he crouched against
+the wall.
+
+She swept by him without looking at him, turned the corner of the
+corridor and passed out of sight.
+
+Maud, transfixed with amazement, stood where the old woman had arrested
+her.
+
+When the stranger had disappeared, Grey made a prodigious effort, shook
+himself, assumed a sickly smile, and straightened his figure.
+
+The action of the banker dissolved the stupefaction of the girl, and she
+moved rapidly towards the door to escape. Just as she reached it the
+manner of the man suddenly changed. His face became dark and
+threatening, and he bounded into the doorway, barring the exit and
+crying:
+
+"Stop! I must speak with you before you leave the room!"
+
+The girl recoiled in terror, and began with "Mr. Grey!" in a tone of
+fear and expostulation.
+
+"Go back. I say I _must_ speak with you before you leave this room!"
+
+She struggled with herself for a moment, and then summoned courage
+enough to begin with:
+
+"By what right, Mr. Grey----"
+
+"By any right or by any wrong you must speak with me. Do I look like a
+child, or a fool, or a woman?"
+
+His manner was vehement and over-powering. For an instant she resolved
+to defy him, but by a powerful sweep of his arm he indicated that denial
+was out of the question. With a palpitating heart and confused head she
+stepped back into the room.
+
+He followed her and locked the door. When she heard him do this her
+strength gave way altogether, and she sank on a chair.
+
+He walked up and down the room some time before he spoke.
+
+"Tell me, what did that wretched woman say to you? What was her business
+with you? What brought her here?"
+
+"She told me she had wronged me innocently."
+
+"How?"
+
+"She would not say."
+
+"What do you mean, girl? Do you dare to tell me she said she had wronged
+you and did not tell you how?" He drew up in front of her chair.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is that a lie?"
+
+"Is what a lie?"
+
+"Have you, girl, told me a lie?"
+
+"Mr. Grey, I----"
+
+"Girl, I will have no pretty sentiments! I am talking business now. Such
+business as you never even heard of. You may not know the results
+hanging on your words. Did that wretched woman tell you the injuries she
+had done you?"
+
+"She did not." Maud felt she should faint.
+
+"Listen to me now, girl: this is business. Attach ten thousand times
+more value to the answers you are going to make me than to any other
+answers you gave in all your life. My question is: What names did she
+mention?"
+
+"None. She mentioned no name."
+
+"Absolutely and literally no name?"
+
+"She mentioned no name."
+
+"Not even her own?"
+
+"Not even her own."
+
+"But you know, of course, who she is?"
+
+"I never saw her before. I do not know who she is."
+
+"The servants know her name."
+
+"Jordan told me a lady wished to see me in private. He did not know her
+name."
+
+"Are you sure of all this?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What was her business with you?"
+
+"She left me that packet on the table."
+
+"Did she say nothing about it?"
+
+"That it contained something of mine, and that I was not to open it
+until to-morrow morning."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+"That is all."
+
+"Swear it to me."
+
+"Mr. Grey!"
+
+"I know; but swear all the same."
+
+"I will not."
+
+"Then you have been lying."
+
+"I have not. How dare you say such a thing, Mr. Grey!"
+
+"Well, there, Maud, dear Maud, let us drop the comedy. I am afraid I
+have carried it too far already. You know really who the poor creature
+is?"
+
+"I have told you I do not."
+
+"She is a harmless old woman who is mad on religion, and goes about
+doing this kind of thing, and leaving bundles of tracts like this." He
+took up the parcel off the table. "She must not be allowed in here
+again. I will give orders that she shall not be admitted. And now can
+you guess the reason for my comedy?"
+
+"I cannot."
+
+"It was, dear Maud, because I heard to-day there is some chance of the
+will being disputed, and I wanted to try how you would go through the
+ordeal of a severe cross-examination. And I must say, anything to equal
+my Maud's admirable coolness I never saw. You did not for a moment fancy
+I was in earnest?"
+
+"I don't know what I thought. I was greatly frightened."
+
+"Well, I admit I did go too far. But it was in your own interest, dear
+Maud--in your own interest. You are all right again, dear Maud?"
+
+He took her hand in his.
+
+"I feel a little nervous and hysterical. Please open the door and let me
+go."
+
+"Certainly; it was carrying the joke too far to lock the door; but I was
+borne away by the spirit of the thing. You will forgive me."
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"Well, dear Maud, good-bye now. You are leaving your parcel of tracts
+behind you. Never mind; I'll read them for you."
+
+When she had left the room he took up the parcel, dropped it into his
+pocket, and started at once for the city.
+
+That day Maud wrote to her cousin, Sir William Midharst. The concluding
+paragraph of her letter ran thus:
+
+"I do not know what is the matter with Mr. Grey; his manner terrifies
+me. If you can, come back at once."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+PENNILESS.
+
+
+As Grey drove home he thought: "Was ever man so lucky as I! She did not
+denounce me. She did not give her name. She did not mention mine. She
+did not tell the nature of the injury she had been the innocent cause
+of, and I was in time to prevent surprise being aroused by the contents
+of that packet. Was ever man so lucky as I!
+
+"I think I half convinced Maud the scene between her and me was a
+rehearsal. If I have not, I am sure to be able to do so later on. Maud
+had no suspicion that woman was my mother; and if she had she could in
+no way trace my manner to the presence of my mother. Even if she
+discovers later on it was my mother, I shall be able to find out some
+back door, some means of escape. It is time enough to say good-day to
+the devil when you meet him; so I will not waste time in providing for
+what may never arise.
+
+"This parcel is money, of course. It is a large slice out of the sales
+of the annuity, house, and furniture. I don't know what the gross sum
+was, but I should not be surprised if she left half of it with Maud. Let
+me see."
+
+He cut the cord, and opened out the parcel. There were two or three
+folds of brown paper; then came a bundle of notes, and in the middle one
+note doubled up, and in this innermost note four sovereigns, seven
+shillings, and a fourpenny-piece. There were seven one thousand pound
+notes, three one hundred, and eight tens, making seven thousand three
+hundred and eighty pounds in notes, and four pounds seven shillings and
+fourpence in coin; in all, seven thousand three hundred and eighty-four
+pounds, seven shillings and fourpence.
+
+Grey knit his brows, counted the money over again, twisted the gold and
+silver inquisitively through his fingers, and uttered an exclamation of
+dissatisfaction.
+
+"Of course," he thought, "they could have traced these notes to her as
+easily as though her name was written on the back of each. I can now cut
+off their history as long as I like. I cannot understand how she got so
+much for the lot. Double this would be a thing far above my estimate. At
+the very outside I don't think the three things were worth more than ten
+thousand. It might have gone to eleven thousand. I should not have
+thought so much, certainly not a penny more. This would be about
+two-thirds of eleven thousand--a trifle more than two-thirds. Can this
+woman have given Maud two-thirds of what the property brought, and left
+herself with short of four thousand pounds, when she may live ten or a
+dozen years yet? Monstrous!
+
+"My mother, upwards of seventy years of age, with a bankrupt son and
+four thousand pounds--a hundred and fifty pounds a year! Monstrous! I'll
+go to Evans and find out the facts of the case, and relieve myself of
+this heavy suspicion."
+
+He drove to Evans's. The solicitor was in an outer office among his
+clerks. Grey was too impatient to wait until they could reach the
+private room, and too cautious to allow Evans to answer his question
+aloud. He took up a sheet of paper and wrote on it:
+
+"What were the net proceeds of my mother's sale?"
+
+He handed this to Evans.
+
+The solicitor wrote some figures, and returned the paper to Grey.
+
+The banker turned down the side of paper with the figures, and went to
+the window. With his back to the attorney and clerks he read the
+figures. The paper fell from his hand. He raised his face against the
+thin winter light. He folded his arms tightly across his chest. A
+convulsive movement began at the shoulders and descended throughout his
+body. He swayed to and fro violently.
+
+Evans raised his head, and saw something was wrong. He stole softly
+behind the banker, and placed his hand on the other's arm.
+
+"Come this way. Come to my private room," whispered the solicitor
+gently.
+
+Grey moved away mechanically. Even with the attorney's assistance he
+walked unsteadily.
+
+When he had reached the private room Evans pressed Grey into a chair,
+locked the door, and said:
+
+"Rest a while. Rest a while, and then tell me."
+
+Grey rose to his feet laboriously, as if his joints were frozen. He
+placed a hand on each shoulder of Evans, and said, in a heavy husky
+voice:
+
+"Evans--my God! Evans--do you know what has happened?"
+
+"No."
+
+"My mother, upwards of seventy years of age, has left Daneford and gone
+I don't know where; and she has not a roof to cover her, a meal to eat,
+or a shilling in her pocket."
+
+The sum Evans had written on that piece of paper was seven thousand
+three hundred and eighty-four pounds, seven shillings and fourpence.
+
+"Evans, she hasn't kept a copper. By this time she may be without a
+shilling."
+
+Half an hour elapsed before Grey found himself able to command himself
+sufficiently to face the public eye.
+
+Evans offered to do anything in his power. He undertook to find Mrs.
+Grey and ascertain her condition; but Grey refused all help. He felt
+perfectly convinced his mother would allow nothing to be done for her by
+him. If she beggared herself to pay some of the stolen money, it was not
+likely she would accept money from him who had committed the theft.
+
+When he left Evans's office he walked slowly and sadly towards the Bank.
+It was now dusk. He went to his private-room, and, flinging himself into
+a chair, sat long gazing at the fire.
+
+He had, he had fancied, banished all thought of his mother from his
+mind for ever. He had flattered himself he had cast off all his old
+affection, so that it might be no longer a stumbling-stone in the path
+of his ambition. But this horrible discovery of the old woman's absolute
+destitution could not be resisted.
+
+His mother a homeless wanderer among strange people in the winter time!
+Unendurable thought! She to whom he had looked up with love and
+reverence all his life, who had soothed and cheered him in the little
+griefs of his boyhood and the trials of his manhood, now without a
+fireside of her own!
+
+He had himself never known what poverty, actual poverty, was; but he had
+heard and read of it, and had come in contact with it as a man connected
+with the treasurership held by him. There were people in the world at
+this moment who were hungry and had not a penny to buy bread. Had not a
+penny such as this.
+
+He had taken a coin out of his pocket, and now held it in his left hand.
+He was bent forward; his right elbow rested on his knee; his head
+drooped over the left palm, in which lay the coin.
+
+People who starved for want of such a coin as this! Under privation it
+was the children and the old people succumbed first. People of middle
+life like him lived through sieges and famines when the young and the
+old died.
+
+To think of people being hungry for want of such a coin as this!
+
+He had seen the old hungry. As president of the Coal Fund he had visited
+poor old people. He had seen their dropped jaws, their dim eyes, their
+feeble gait, their degraded humanity. He had seen women, old women who
+had once occupied comfortable positions, hobbling along the frozen
+streets with tickets for coal in their hands, while boys followed
+jeering at them. He had heard these respectable old women utter words of
+gratitude so humiliating to themselves, that he had felt to listen was
+more the punishment of a crime than the reward of a humane action.
+
+Once at a Christmas-time he went to see a poor widow on behalf of whom
+application had been made to the fund. Her husband had been a well-to-do
+tradesman of Daneford. He found the poor creature in a most pitiable
+plight. She had nothing but a bundle of straw for a bed, and the ragged
+remains of an old patchwork counterpane. There were two broken chairs, a
+delf cup, and no saucer. This was a full inventory of the widow's goods.
+The old woman said she did not feel hunger half so much as cold. She was
+used to hunger all the year round, now and then; but the winter cold
+was terrible. When hungry and cold, you were tortured from within and
+without. For twelve months she had not tasted hot meat, and for six
+months neither eggs nor butter. Sprats were then three-halfpence for two
+pounds, and bread three-halfpence a pound. Two pounds of sprats, two
+pounds of bread, and the use of a neighbour's fire, carried her over two
+days very nicely, but that came to fourpence-halfpenny; and when she had
+paid eighteenpence a week for the room, it was not easy to find
+fourpence-halfpenny every two days for living. In coming away he gave
+her half-a-sovereign. She threw herself down on her knees to him, and
+thanked him and Providence that she should now have warm stockings and
+taste meat once more before she died. That thin old woman had thrown
+herself on her knees to _him_ because she was hungry and cold, and he
+had given her half-a-sovereign! Thrown herself on her knees to him! When
+he came home he told Bee, and Bee had wept and sent the old woman
+clothes. He told his mother, too, about this old woman, and his mother
+had gone to see her and sat with her, and never lost sight of her until
+the poor woman died.
+
+What changes since then! Bee had gone, and his mother was a pauper
+fugitive.
+
+His stately keen-minded mother a penniless fugitive! Intolerable! There
+must be some mistake. Fancy for a moment his proud high-spirited mother
+being obliged to stoop and accept help! Fancy such a thing, she who had
+always had a full larder and purse at the service of royal generosity!
+The mere idea was preposterous on the face of it. And yet there were the
+figures of Evans. His mother prostrate at the feet of a stranger,
+thanking him for food!
+
+"Oh, God, who is our master, and who is the master of our joys and our
+woes, afflict me with what Thou wilt, but take away that vision! Take
+away that vision from before my eyes! Give me all other pains but that
+sight, the result of my misdoings."
+
+He had risen, and was praying with all the might of his soul, his face
+and hands thrown up, and the tones of terrible beseeching in his voice.
+
+Suddenly he sank to his knees and drew his arms swiftly and strongly
+across his eyes; swaying his body to and fro, he moaned out in piteous
+entreaty:
+
+"Oh, God of mercy, show mercy to me, and turn away from me my mother's
+eyes!"
+
+There was a knock at the door.
+
+He staggered feebly to his feet, and took a few hasty inspirations
+before asking:
+
+"Who's there?"
+
+"I, sir."
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"The mail is going out, sir."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Have you any letters to go?"
+
+"No, Doughty."
+
+"But there's the Castle bag, sir. I want the letters out of that."
+
+"True; thank you for reminding me of them." He opened the door. "Here is
+the key." He handed it through the door, adding: "I am most particularly
+engaged. Let no one come to me."
+
+He retired from the door feebly. He went back to the fire and sat down.
+
+In half an hour he rang his bell. The porter entered.
+
+"Are the letters posted?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"All gone?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"That will do." To himself he thought with his hand on his brow: "I
+forgot something about the Castle letters. I forget still what it was. I
+should have--I remember now. Well, it does not make much difference."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+LOSING.
+
+
+For a few days after the meeting between Grey and his mother at the
+Castle he did not go to the Island. Something repelled him. The thought
+of the Castle made him chill and uncomfortable now. He had never gone so
+far as to try and persuade himself he was in love with Maud. He never
+pretended to himself he felt more than a mild interest in her. The
+nature of the circumstances surrounding him and impelling him towards
+Maud had almost wholly obliterated the personality of the girl. She was
+a minus quantity in the equation of his life. Could he bring her over
+to the other side, the minus would become a plus, and he should be
+saved. He was too much impressed with the necessity of winning her to
+regard her personality with much interest.
+
+Now he seemed to have receded further from her. He was no less impressed
+with the necessity of winning her than before, but between her and him
+had come of late a shadow, stretching from that interview at which his
+mother, Maud, and himself, had assisted.
+
+At first this shadow was vague, indistinct, a source of indefinable
+uneasiness rather than absolute pain. Gradually, hour by hour after that
+interview, his subsequent discoveries in the fly, and at Evans's office,
+the appearance of vagueness disappeared, the repelling image took
+absolute form, and between the girl and himself flitted the form of a
+feeble beggared mother.
+
+He had made no effort to trace Mrs. Grey. He knew nothing on earth would
+induce her to take aid from him. He knew she could not be reached
+indirectly, for she would suspect any side approach to be of his
+contriving. When she would not keep a shilling of her own honest money
+to buy bread, there was no likelihood of her receiving stolen money from
+his hand.
+
+"I have already sacrificed two women, am I about to sacrifice a third?"
+He put this question to himself often, but took little interest in the
+answer. If any other means of extricating himself offered, he would have
+abandoned his design of marrying Maud. He saw no other loophole of
+escape.
+
+"If I don't marry Maud, sooner or later it will be found out I have made
+fraudulent uses of my power of attorney, and they will seize me, search
+the Bank and the Manor, and--hang me out of one of the crossbars of
+that tank--always supposing I do not take the liberty of cheating the
+hangman by making away with myself."
+
+He began to feel jaded, and people saw changes in him, and asked him if
+he was quite well. When not racked by dread or torn by remorse, a
+strange languor fell upon him, and he could not rouse himself to do
+anything not absolutely necessary.
+
+In these languid moments he would think to himself: "I have been
+over-trained by crime, and I am not capable of fighting as of old."
+
+The first day he called at the Castle after meeting his mother there,
+Maud could not be seen. She sent down Mrs. Grant to say she hoped Mr.
+Grey would excuse her, as she had a headache, and Mrs. Grant had
+recommended her to keep to her room.
+
+This was an agreeable disappointment. He had come to the Island and
+requested he might see Maud, not as a matter of liking at the moment,
+but as part of a scheme of self-protection laid down when full of life
+and vigour, and now carried out with diminished forces.
+
+He formally examined the work upon which the men were engaged, and took
+an early leave of the Island.
+
+A meeting with Maud that day would have been too much for him. He did
+not feel equal to urging his suit; allusion might have been made to his
+manner on the last occasion, and he felt he could not carry off the
+fiction of the imaginary dispute of the will with a hand sufficiently
+light and firm.
+
+He had now a vague fear--it went beyond fear, and assumed the settled
+form of conviction--that his explanation of his violence had not
+satisfied Maud. She might really have been indisposed, but of old so
+slight an indisposition as headache would not have excluded him from her
+presence. He was quite sure Maud had told him the truth, and that his
+mother had divulged nothing prejudicial to him. But this was not all.
+His mother may have divulged nothing, and yet his manner, his terror at
+the sight of her, his violence when she had gone, and his subsequent
+statement that litigation was not impossible, might have created an
+impression not to be removed easily from the mind of the girl.
+
+He allowed a few days more to elapse before calling again.
+
+Mrs. Grant came to him and said Miss Midharst was so miserably wretched
+and unwell she must ask Mr. Grey to be good enough to excuse her not
+receiving him.
+
+"I have been very unfortunate with Miss Midharst of late," said the
+banker, with a smile to the little widow.
+
+"She is so nervous and excitable," said Mrs. Grant, who seemed uneasy
+and disconcerted.
+
+"Until quite lately I have had the pleasure of seeing Miss Midharst
+daily. I have not been able to come here so often as of old, and when I
+do come I am so unfortunate as to find Miss Midharst laid up." There was
+complaint in his tone.
+
+Mrs. Grant felt exceedingly awkward. Maud had told her of Mr. Grey's
+extraordinary conduct at their last interview. At her suggestion Maud
+had written to Sir William and avoided an interview with the banker.
+Maud had had a headache when he called last, but it was not bad enough
+to prevent her seeing him if nothing unusual had happened. To-day she
+was not unusually nervous, but she dreaded an interview with the banker
+so much she became hysterical when his name had been announced. Still
+Mrs. Grant's old feeling for Mr. Grey could not be put aside in a
+minute, and now that she was face to face with him who had been so
+useful and so kind, and found him complaining of exclusion from the
+presence of her over whose fortunes the dead baronet had made him
+guardian, she felt powerless and wretched. She said, in an unsteady
+voice and confused manner:
+
+"I am sure I am very sorry you should have been twice disappointed in
+seeing Miss Midharst. It is unfortunate. But I hope you will not think
+she intends any disrespect to you. I know nothing is further from her
+thoughts."
+
+Grey took the widow's hand gently in his. He felt conscious he was not
+as strong as formerly. He had now no friend in the world. A woman, a
+widow, had been his greatest friend. He knew Mrs. Grant meant him well.
+
+"Mrs. Grant," he said, "I am sure I have a sincere friend in you."
+
+"I am sure you have," she answered tremulously.
+
+"Will you do me a great favour?"
+
+"There is no one in the world, except Maud, for whom I would so soon do
+all I can," she said earnestly.
+
+"You will be candid with me, I know. You will be candid with me because
+you could not be otherwise with anyone, and you will answer my question
+as a favour?"
+
+"If I can I will; you may rely upon that."
+
+"I knew I was right. My question is: Has anything occurred to make Miss
+Midharst disinclined to meet me?"
+
+"She is not very well."
+
+"You were good enough to tell me that some time ago. My question has
+reference to something else. Has anything of a personal nature occurred
+to make Miss Midharst disinclined to meet me?"
+
+"You know, Mr. Grey, that when Sir William was here Maud made a promise
+to him."
+
+"Yes. That she would look upon him as her personal guardian. Is it to
+that you refer?"
+
+"It is. I believe Miss Midharst wishes to consult her cousin on some
+subject of importance. She has written to him."
+
+"And will not receive me until she gets his reply? Is that what I am to
+understand, Mrs. Grant?" Grey's voice quavered, and his whole body
+shook. How had that letter escaped him?
+
+"I do not think Maud will be quite strong enough to see you for a few
+days more."
+
+"That is, until she hears from her cousin?"
+
+"Until she sees him."
+
+"_Sees him!_ What do you mean?"
+
+"She wrote him, asking him to come back, if he could."
+
+"That is not true. I never saw the letter," he whispered.
+
+"Yes. She wrote him the day she saw you last, and he is coming back. He
+has telegraphed to her saying so."
+
+"The day she saw me last! The day I met another woman talking to her."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was it at the suggestion of that woman she wrote for Sir William to
+come home?"
+
+"No; that lady did not, as far as I can hear, mention Sir William's
+name."
+
+"And that was the day," said Grey, letting fall Mrs. Grant's hand and
+pressing it against his throbbing forehead--"that was the day I forgot
+the bag. How soon is Sir Alexander expected here?"
+
+"Sir William, you mean."
+
+"Ah, yes; Sir William I mean, of course. I forgot--I forgot!"
+
+"We don't know exactly when he may be here, but he will certainly not be
+longer than a fortnight."
+
+"And between this and then Miss Midharst will not see me?"
+
+He had still his hand on his brow. She did not answer.
+
+Without taking any further notice of her he walked feebly out of the
+room. For an hour he wandered aimlessly about the Castle grounds. There
+were men at work, but he took no notice of them. When it grew dusk he
+crossed over in a boat to the mainland, and set out to walk home.
+
+The cool air and the walking gradually improved his tone, and little by
+little he became familiar with the new aspect of affairs. He was
+conscious of mental indifference, weakness, or numbness--he did not know
+exactly what it was. Thoughts and ideas and things had lost half their
+values to him. He felt like a man who wakes for the first time in a
+prison where he is to pass his life, only the prisoner's heart is
+afflicted with the memory of a better past. Grey, as he walked along,
+did not once turn his eyes back. He kept them fixed rigidly forward.
+
+In the immediate future he saw he should lose all influence at the
+Castle. The moment Sir William came home his suspicions would be
+aroused. He would make inquiries, and find not a single shilling of Sir
+Alexander's money in the books of the Bank of England.
+
+Then would come ruin and death, or death and ruin--put it either way. He
+was beaten. He confessed it to himself. Discovery could not be three
+weeks off. There was no loophole--no means of escape. The days of
+abduction were dead and buried long ago. He could not carry Maud away
+forcibly and marry her. He had, by law, no control over her person. She
+would not see him until Sir William's return. Most likely she was acting
+under the young man's advice in not seeing him.
+
+A month ago he was keener, and would have felt angry at the interference
+of this young man and the stubbornness of this girl; but he was past all
+that now. He was beaten, beaten beyond all hope of retrieving his
+fortune. His life was forfeit. His name would be branded for ever in the
+town where it had been almost worshipped for years.
+
+And when he had died by his own hand, and all had been discovered, his
+mother, a wanderer on the land, would, as she sank into a pauper's
+grave, learn the enormity of his crime, and call out that the sin of
+having brought such a monster into the world might be taken away from
+her in consideration of the wrongs he had done her.
+
+No! no! no! Ten thousand times No! His mother should never hear the
+awful words: "Henry Walter Grey found guilty of Wife Murder," or,
+"Discovery of the body of Mrs. Henry Walter Grey, with a history of her
+murder by her husband."
+
+No; that must never be. But how was he to prevent it? Only one way
+remained.
+
+If he could hide the embezzlement, he could hide the murder. There was
+now only one way of hiding the fraud: he must throw himself on the mercy
+of Miss Midharst and her cousin. The moment Sir William returned, he
+should make a full confession. While there is life there is hope, and
+that was not a foolish hope. Sir William was young and chivalric. Sir
+William would listen to his prayer and show mercy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+"I AM HE. FIRE."
+
+
+The morning after Grey had been at the Castle, he awoke cold and
+depressed. The magnitude of the misfortune just come upon him was more
+apparent than the evening before. Up to yesterday he had been fighting
+to defeat the past and render the future glorious. Henceforth all
+thought of glory must be cast aside, and the struggle conducted solely
+with a view to prevent fatal disgrace. He had lost the stake, and ran a
+grave risk of losing his life. He had been playing against Sir William
+Midharst. Now he was playing against the hangman.
+
+The day of the baronet's return was not known. The young man must pass
+through Daneford on his way to the Castle. More than likely he would
+call at the "Warfinger Hotel," to leave his luggage there before setting
+out for the Island.
+
+Grey went to the "Warfinger Hotel," saw the landlord, told him Sir
+William was expected home; and requested him to send instantly to the
+Bank word of the baronet's arrival.
+
+He felt queer to-day. That old sensation of everything being far away
+and of little interest to him had come back upon him fourfold. He went
+through the routine business of the Bank with as little interest as a
+copying-clerk. He signed papers without reading them, and did not
+understand those he read.
+
+And now day after day the banker lived without change or adventure. All
+his life he had been a man of action, a leader, and now he was wearily
+waiting, waiting in weak hope haunted by fierce terrors. He felt his
+physical health declining under the ordeal, but he had no alternative.
+
+At last one afternoon, as he was sitting alone in his private office a
+messenger came from the "Warfinger Hotel" announcing the return of Sir
+William. The baronet had just arrived and ordered luncheon, so that in
+all likelihood he would be at the hotel for an hour or two.
+
+Grey rose heavily and walked to the hotel with a misgiving heart. He
+carried in his hand his small black bag.
+
+What reason had he to think this young man would take a merciful view of
+the case? All his pride was gone now, except the pride in a good name he
+did not deserve. He would crawl on his knees in private to this young
+man, rather than lower his front a jot before the public. If he could
+win over this young man he might save his name. It was not the hangman
+he dreaded most. It was not death. It was the groans and execrations of
+people over whom he once held imperial sway, and by whom he had been
+regarded as the high-priest of humanity and justice.
+
+When he arrived at the hotel, he sent in his card and was instantly
+admitted.
+
+The young man fixed his dark dreamy eyes upon the other as he entered,
+rose slowly from his chair, and held out his hand freely, saying:
+
+"I am very much obliged to you for calling. I wanted to see you
+particularly."
+
+This was unexpected. Grey thought Sir William would refuse to meet him
+until after a visit to the Castle. What did the young man know? Grey
+said:
+
+"I have to speak to you on a very important matter indeed, and I would
+wish to speak to you about it at once."
+
+"I am quite at your service for an hour. Sit down. You are not looking
+as well as I should like to see so good a friend."
+
+"Friend!" sighed Grey. "Don't use that word again until I have
+finished."
+
+A quick look of present interest came into the dreamy eyes. The baronet
+said: "I am ready to hear."
+
+"I have been told by Mrs. Grant that you have come home to consult with
+Miss Midharst about some important matter--I do not know what, and I do
+not seek to know. Before you see Miss Midharst, I want to say to you
+some words of the deepest importance, and I want you to permit me
+to--lock the door." He was grave and collected in manner, and as he said
+the last words he waved his hand softly towards the door.
+
+"You may lock the door," said Sir William, taking an easy-chair, and
+relapsing into his dreamy manner.
+
+The banker walked slowly to the door, locked it deliberately, and then
+came back to the window at which the young man was sitting. Then he sat
+down on a chair opposite Sir William, having placed his bag on a small
+table that stood between them.
+
+The day was bright and clear. Past the wall of the hotel through which
+that window looked ran the Weeslade. It was ebb tide, and now and then
+down the river shot a small boat or glided a barge, while from the upper
+wharves came the sound of chains and tackles, and the hoarse hoot of the
+steamboat blowing off steam.
+
+For a few seconds Grey sat silent, resting his head upon his hand. At
+last he spoke:
+
+"You have been asked to come back from Egypt to give advice to Miss
+Midharst on some subject of importance. You are by your relationship
+with her, and by her own agreement with you, the guardian of her person.
+I am by the will of her father the guardian of her fortune. _Yours_ is a
+precious trust."
+
+Grey paused here to give the young man an opportunity of saying
+something. Sir William merely said: "That is so."
+
+"What I have further to say to you," continued Grey, "is in the nature,
+Sir William, of a confession. A confession so degrading and humiliating,
+that I have debated a thousand times whether I should make it or put an
+end to my life."
+
+"I am sincerely glad you adopted the alternative of confiding in me."
+
+"Sir William, what do you consider the greatest calamity which could
+befall Miss Midharst?"
+
+"Really I have not thought of such a question, and could not answer it
+off-hand."
+
+"What would you do to the man who behaved in an unscrupulous manner to
+Miss Midharst?"
+
+Suddenly the young man lost his languid manner, sat bolt upright in his
+chair, looked with a strong present interest in his eyes at the banker,
+and demanded sharply: "What do you mean?"
+
+Grey raised his head, and for the first time the eyes of the two men
+met.
+
+"A terrible injury, an irreparable injury; who had inflicted upon her an
+injury so great that the sacrifice of his life could not atone for it,
+not the devotion of a lifetime undo it?"
+
+"Shoot him. Where is he?"
+
+Grey opened the black bag, took out the revolver, and holding the muzzle
+pointed at his own breast, handed it to the baronet, saying: "I am he.
+Fire."
+
+The young man sprang to his feet, seized the revolver, and keeping the
+banker covered with it, said thickly through his clenched teeth: "A
+moment. Wait a moment."
+
+For some seconds there was neither motion nor word. The one man stood
+over the other, the revolver in his hand, his finger on the trigger.
+
+"I have thought of Maud until I am ready to shoot you here. Now speak.
+What was it?"
+
+"She is a beggar."
+
+"How?"
+
+"I have stolen all her fortune. I sold out the Consols and used the
+money. The money is all gone."
+
+"Have you confessed all?"
+
+"Yes; all."
+
+"And are you ready to die for that?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"There is nothing for you to add about Maud?"
+
+"No. I have told you all candidly."
+
+The young man seized Grey by the throat, and pulled him upon his feet.
+For a moment he swayed the banker to and fro.
+
+"Not this. Fire if you are a man. Not this."
+
+"Damnation seize you for a fool! You terrified me about nothing." He
+flung Grey violently from him.
+
+"About nothing! I told you all her money is gone."
+
+"And when did I tell you I wanted her money?"
+
+"You never said anything to me about it."
+
+"You are a fool, sir, and have terrified me for nothing."
+
+Sir William stooped down, picked up the revolver, which had fallen from
+his hand in the scuffle, and raising the window quietly dropped it into
+the Weeslade. Then turning to the banker he said:
+
+"Who knows of this?"
+
+"Only you and I and my mother."
+
+"That is true, is it?"
+
+"It is."
+
+"Miss Midharst has no suspicion of it?"
+
+"Not the slightest. Only three people on earth know it. The three I have
+named."
+
+"Keep the secret where it is, and meet me here to-morrow at noon. I
+shall then let you know what I intend doing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+BANKER AND BARONET.
+
+
+Next noon, as appointed, Grey called at the "Warfinger Hotel" and saw
+Sir William. The interview was a brief one. Sir William informed the
+banker he had made up his mind to only one thing so far, namely, to keep
+the secret and do nothing for a month or two. "This looks very like
+compounding a felony," said the young man, "but I am prepared to take
+that risk."
+
+Grey went away respited. It was a great relief nothing was to be done at
+once, but when something came to be done what would it be? That was the
+question which followed Grey day and night, waking and sleeping, through
+two long weary months. One qualifying fact operated greatly in his
+favour: day after day he lost susceptibility. Something was happening
+which dulled his sense of danger or exposure. He had begun to forget
+more and more, and it was only on rare occasions he had a clear and
+well-defined idea of his position. He had a weak conviction Sir William
+would not have him prosecuted, but what would the young man do?
+
+But if the tyranny of the theft had lost its poignancy, he had two
+fiercer troubles left.
+
+Every old broken-down woman he met in the street was his mother. By day
+he met his mother a thousand times; she crawled close to the wall, she
+had sold all her clothes for bread, she had worn out her boots, and her
+bare feet, her poor old bare feet, touched the cold wet streets. If he
+took up a paper his eye fell on some paragraph relating to the death in
+great misery of an old woman over seventy who had seen better days.
+
+But it was when the twilight had died, and all the land lay in the dark
+trance of night, the prime actor in his mental disaster entered on the
+scene.
+
+In order that he might marry Maud and so cover up his robbery, he had
+taken upon him the awful burden of blood. Now Maud had slipped through
+his grasp, and there was a chance his theft might still remain
+undisclosed. What was his position with regard to the deed of the
+seventeenth of August? If the warm-breathing body of his wife were by
+his side he should be in no worse position.
+
+When the dusk came down upon the earth, when the fields lay under the
+shadow of the wings of ill angels, the warm and breathing body of his
+wife was not at his side, but there, no matter where he might sit, was
+the clammy cold thing he had left that night on the top of the Tower of
+Silence. It lay in passage and hall, and in the dining-room it was
+always stiff and stark behind his chair, where he could not see it, but
+whence the clammy chill radiating from it reached his back and froze his
+spirit.
+
+That was not the worst, for it was vague; not the figure of his wife so
+much as that of the victim of murder. Over one shoulder, he knew not
+which, came that face, not now calm and passionless as before, but full
+of love and tender reproach, an expression in which the love
+out-measured the reproach ten thousand-fold. It was this new look of old
+love made him shut his fists, and grind his teeth, and sob and groan.
+
+From the ghastly caverns of night's silence whispers of her voice came
+to him pleading for mercy.
+
+"Do not, for God's sake, Wat, do not send me in my sin before my Maker!"
+
+These awful whispers made him start and stare, and caused the cold sweat
+to start from all the pores of his body.
+
+Then followed night and dreams. When he awoke after dreams he always
+thought the dreaming worse than waking. When he sought his bed at night
+he prayed for dreams as a relief. In the privacy of his own room, and in
+the still deeper privacy of dreams, he was always in her presence when
+the rustle of her dress made his pulses thicken with joy.
+
+These dreams were his only resting-places. But, unfortunately, not only
+did they not last always, but towards the end of each it changed and
+died in an awful sense of unascertainable disaster. Something had
+happened to his love, something so hideous and unheard of, that not man
+or woman, beast or stone, would tell him the secret. With a great shout
+he awoke, sprang out of bed to seek for his love through all the world,
+tore open the door, and found his murdered wife lying across the
+threshold, and upon his hands her blood.
+
+Day by day the influence of these terrors wrought on Grey until his eyes
+grew dim, his hands palsied, his gait feeble, and his mind dull. He
+forgot oftener now than formerly. In the midst of business transactions
+he would stop suddenly, put his hand to his head, mutter a few
+incoherent words, cease speaking for a while, and then exclaim
+piteously: "I have forgotten something! I have forgotten something!"
+
+All who came in contact with him saw he was breaking down. They said:
+
+"Poor Grey loved his wife so deeply, so tenderly, he is losing his
+reason for loss of her."
+
+This popular verdict was not only a great cause of drawing sympathy
+towards the widower, but almost wholly washed away the stain which had
+smirched his dead wife's name. For those who had heard of her failing,
+and believed it fact, now asked themselves:
+
+"How could any man care for a woman so afflicted? How could any man wear
+away his life in sorrow for the loss of an intemperate wife?"
+
+The evening Grey first visited Sir William Midharst at the "Warfinger
+Hotel" the young man went to the Castle and had a long talk with Maud,
+in which she told him of Grey's extraordinary conduct on the occasion of
+the unknown old woman's visit. She did not tell him she suspected the
+banker had been trying to make himself more than agreeable to her. He
+did not say anything to her of the scene between the banker and himself
+at the "Warfinger." He heard all Maud had to say to him without comment
+beyond expressions of surprise.
+
+"I know the whole secret," he thought, "but I must have time to think
+out the situation before I decide on a course of action. When I have
+considered all the points I shall not be slow to move."
+
+As he was going down a corridor after saying good-night to Maud Mrs.
+Grant overtook him.
+
+She said: "How can you account for Mr. Grey's conduct, Sir William? I
+cannot understand it at all. Of course Maud told you all. You do not
+think his manner of wooing likely to win?"
+
+"His manner of wooing! I was told nothing of his wooing. Did he make
+love to Maud?"
+
+"Ah, did she not tell you. I suppose the poor child felt it might not
+be delicate to mention the matter. He has been making downright love to
+her. She told me all about it. That's the extraordinary part of the
+thing; he has been making love to her, and then he breaks out into that
+violent manner all at once. Acting, indeed! I don't believe a word of
+it."
+
+"So," thought Sir William to himself, as he went home to his hotel, "I
+did not know the whole secret, but I think I have it all now. Of course,
+if he married Maud he need say nothing about the money. It's all gone,
+no doubt. A man would not tell such a lie and offer to back it up with a
+bullet. Let me see now. My return has forced his hand. He saw he had no
+chance of winning Maud. What a preposterous idea to think of his making
+love to my angel Maud! What insolent presumption! Poor Maud a beggar
+through his means! It is well I am not. I suppose we can live on the old
+estate as the Midharsts have done for generations before us. I am full
+of hope. I am drunk with the belief Maud shall be mine. I think she is
+glad I am back, and will be glad to see me every day. Fancy seeing Maud
+every day from this out! Fancy being permitted to take her hand, and to
+feel that hand on my arm! Fancy being able to say 'Maud' a thousand
+times a day to herself and not to an image of her. Oh, Maud, my
+beautiful, be with me for ever as the flowers are with summer.
+
+"What shall I do with this scoundrel Grey? He was very nearly too deep
+for me. He imposed on me, but that is all over now. What am I to do with
+him? If he is prosecuted there will be worry, and the past will be gone
+into, and the peculiarities of Sir Alexander, among other things his
+hatred of me and the, let me say, friendship between his daughter and
+me.
+
+"They might call Maud, these lawyers have no taste, no sense of
+propriety. Think of putting Maud in the box and cross-examining her,
+and--yes, by Heavens, some of those legal bullies might be ungentle to
+my lily sweet Maud.
+
+"What a wonderful thing Maud's hand is. It is like the moon, always the
+same, and yet you can't be in sight of it without looking at it often.
+
+"But this scoundrel Grey. I wish I were done with him. I have given up
+all taste for affairs and difficulties. I am become bucolic. Suppose he
+is prosecuted we can't get the money back, for such a prosecution would
+shut up his Bank. We should have all the trouble and worry for nothing.
+Then what is the object of prosecuting the scoundrel?
+
+"It is strange about Maud's hand. I thought as I looked at it this
+evening that if I were dying of wounds on a battle-field, parched with
+that last terrible thirst, and Maud came and put her hand on my
+forehead, the thirst would leave me. I know it would.
+
+"But about Grey?
+
+"Yes. Isn't it too bad that when I have Maud to think about this
+wretched Grey should thrust himself in between Maud and me. I wish the
+devil would take Grey. He'll want that bland burglar sometime, and he'd
+oblige me greatly by taking him now.
+
+"What a beautiful thing Maud's ear is. While I was looking at it
+to-night I found out why when I speak to her I seem to pray; it is
+because I know my words must reach the spirit of a saint.
+
+"But here is this Grey. I am to meet him to-morrow and let him know my
+decision. I wish the devil would take him now, or Heaven would inspire
+me what to do with him. If the money had been mine I should before going
+to bed to-night sign a receipt for the full amount, send the receipt to
+him, and beg of him never to allude to the matter again.
+
+"If the money was mine!
+
+"Ah! That is a thought worth considering twice.
+
+"If I marry Maud the supposititious money will be mine. I don't want the
+money if I could get it, and I can't get it, or any of it, if I wanted
+it. The prosecution would involve nothing but trouble and worry.
+
+"Come, on the day I marry Maud, I'll give him a clear receipt for it!
+But I'll put him off for a couple of months and then tell him.
+
+"If all the rest of the world were mine on the day I marry Maud, and it
+would save her worry not to take it, I should pass it by.
+
+"My gentle Maud, you are the infinite sum of all my earthly hopes to
+which nothing can be added, from which nothing can be taken away."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+GREY REMEMBERS.
+
+
+Grey sat in his breakfast-room turning over his letters. Suddenly his
+eyes fell on one and remained fixed on it.
+
+"At last," he thought, "at last I am to hear something of her, of my
+poor old mother. Whatever this tells me is all I am likely ever to know
+of her until I die. To-night I cut off for ever my connection with the
+career of Wat Grey. To-day Wat Grey departs this life of Daneford."
+
+He broke the envelope and found these unsigned, undated words:
+
+"Through the kindness of some honest friends of your honest father I am
+now in a London almshouse, so I am fully provided for. I think it only
+right you should know this. I have seen by the papers that Sir William
+Midharst will, the morning you get this, marry Miss Midharst. I handed
+that lady all I had in the world to the last penny. I do not know how
+you have evaded discovery so long. But follow my example, and give back
+to the robbed all you have left in the world. These are my last words to
+you."
+
+He put down the letter, sighed, and muttered:
+
+"An ungracious final leave-taking, mother, an ungracious farewell. The
+giving back forms no part of my plan. Sir William would not touch a
+penny. You yourself will relent and be sorrowful when you hear of this
+day's events, for they will get into the papers as well as the marriage
+of Sir William. The newspapers will have the marriage paragraph, and
+then one headed, 'Shocking Death of Mr. Henry Walter Grey.'
+
+"No, mother, I must save my name and save my reputation, and both can be
+best preserved by sacrificing Wat Grey. Wat Grey must go to keep his
+name good. There is no need he should really die. It will be quite
+enough if he change his habitation and his name.
+
+"I am not strong enough to fight it out any longer. I cannot leave this
+house as it is, and this house is killing me. It is killing me slowly
+with its awful sights and sounds and memories. I must, I will fly. This
+very night I shall leave it for ever, and I shall leave it incapable of
+telling any tales.
+
+"At one blow I shall destroy its sights, and its sounds, and its
+memories, and cut myself off from it, Daneford, and the past for ever.
+I shall get rid of all the burden I bear. I shall break away from all my
+old associations, all things to remind me of the past. With twenty
+thousand pounds in my pocket, and the whole breadth of sunny France
+between me and this place, I shall be at ease. They may charge my memory
+with the crime of theft, but I shall leave evidence of my innocence
+behind me. Farleg may come back and accuse my name of murder; but he
+will have neither Wat Grey nor evidence against Wat Grey, for Wat Grey
+and the evidence against him will disappear together, and I will live a
+quiet life beyond the Alps or the Pyrenees."
+
+He leant back in his chair and reviewed his preparations with the
+deliberate complaisance of one whose plans were unassailable.
+
+"Yes, everything so far is arranged. I have the money. I have the
+letter written to Aldridge, saying I enclose Sir William's
+acknowledgment for the amount of Consols converted into cash at his
+request, and handed to him on this the day of his wedding with Miss
+Midharst. I also tell Aldridge I send him this to put in the
+strong-room, as I shall not go into town to-morrow, but stay at home
+attending to some final business connected with the Midharst affairs. I
+have paid all the small legacies, and made investments to yield the
+annuities. For two months I have been sleeping in the tower-room, so
+that no one will expect me to sleep anywhere else. I have got that
+rope-ladder ready to hook on the bar of the back window, and the piece
+of twine rove through the hook to unship the ladder when I am down safe
+on the ground. Once I am on the ground I start on my way to France, and
+I walk to-night at the burial of the past. There can be no hitch.
+Things must run smooth. To-morrow I shall be free! Free!"
+
+He stood up and looked around him triumphantly. Suddenly his face grew
+pale and expressionless. He pressed his hand to his forehead, his lips
+opened feebly, and he muttered:
+
+"I have forgotten something! I have forgotten something!"
+
+He dropped down in his chair, and for a few minutes his face did not
+alter. All at once the natural look came back. He rose again, shook
+himself briskly, and said:
+
+"Another of those half-fainting fits I have been free from so long. They
+were worst when my mind was most tortured. Of late I have been almost
+free from them. They will disappear altogether when I get south, and
+to-morrow at this hour I shall be out of bondage."
+
+It was now time to set out for the Castle. It had been arranged that he
+should attend and give away the bride. "If I am not present," said the
+banker to Sir William, "there will be no end of remarks made, and if I
+do attend it will be as Miss Midharst's guardian, in which capacity,
+there being no relative, I ought to give away the bride." And Sir
+William, seeing no harm in this, and wanting to avert comment as much as
+possible, consented.
+
+A full year had not elapsed since the death of Sir Alexander, but
+several considerations beyond the impatience of the baronet made it
+desirable the wedding should take place at once.
+
+Maud was alone in the world and had no protector but him. She was in
+mourning, and objected to go to London and be brought out so soon after
+her father's death. The Castle was lonely and dreary. They were engaged
+to be married, and it could make no difference to anyone, and could be
+no offence against the puny laws of society, if they got married within
+the year and lived quietly at the Castle until the time of mourning had
+passed. Then they could go to London. They should know very few people
+at first, but that would soon be altered.
+
+So the marriage had been fixed to take place on Wednesday the 8th of
+August, 1877.
+
+The wedding was to be strictly private. No one was to be present but
+Mrs. Grant and Mr. Grey. The ceremony was to be performed by the rector,
+and the tenants were informed that the bride and bridegroom desired no
+demonstration of any kind.
+
+After the ceremony Sir William and Lady Midharst were to return to the
+Castle, where no unusual preparation would be made to receive them.
+
+This simple programme was carried out without let or accident. Grey and
+the baronet drove from Daneford, Maud and Mrs. Grant from the Castle, to
+the quiet country church, where the rector performed the short service
+by request. In the vestry Sir William handed Grey an envelope containing
+something. He said, "This is it, Grey." No more.
+
+From the church the four drove back to Island Ferry. Here Grey bade the
+party good-bye. Sir William in saying good-bye added, under his breath,
+so that no one but Grey heard him, "for ever." Grey echoes the "for
+ever" in his heart, but took no further notice of the supplement to the
+farewell.
+
+The banker then drove back to the Manor House.
+
+"My last visit to the Castle," he thought, as he swept up the
+carriage-drive. "My last entry into the Manor House. To-day I bid a
+life-long adieu to the Weird Sisters. I am not sorry. I am over weary
+and want rest. I have allowed nothing to stand between me and ambition.
+I have lost the game and now I want only peace. What I have done cannot
+be undone. In a new climate, among new people, the past, the Weird
+Sisters, the Towers of Silence, and the story of my tower will fade into
+the background, and the things of the seventeenth of August will become
+as vague and shadowy to my mind as the story of the Spanish lady whose
+bones were found on the top of the tower in Warfinger Castle."
+
+He had many things to arrange at the Manor that day, and had determined
+not to go to the Bank. He opened the envelope Sir William had given him,
+and found in it what he had been promised: a receipt in full for claims
+upon him in settlement of Miss Midharst's money. This receipt he put
+into the letter he had ready written for Aldridge and posted it. There
+had been trouble about the marriage settlement, but as Grey was
+guardian, and the baronet knew all about the money, things had gone
+smoothly in the end.
+
+He spent most of the remainder of the day in the library looking through
+various books and accounts, but having slight interest in them. The day
+before a girl marries she cannot take a very lively interest in the
+gardener's work at her father's house. She is going to wear another
+name, break from old associations, and take up her residence in a new
+home. By to-morrow Grey would have changed his name, broken from old
+associations, and taken up his residence in a new home.
+
+Day grew on and at last dinner-hour arrived. He was too much excited to
+eat; he played with a cutlet, and drank three glasses of marvellous
+brown sherry for which he was famous. After dinner, although he rarely
+touched spirits, he had a glass of brandy-and-water with his cigar.
+
+At eight o'clock he rang for coffee. When James came with it he said: "I
+am going to bed soon. I shall not require you or any of the others again
+to-night. I shall want breakfast half an hour earlier than usual in the
+morning, at eight o'clock. Call me at five minutes to seven. I am not
+going to town to-morrow, but shall stay at home all day. Good-night."
+
+Grey waited a few minutes to give James time to get out of hearing. Then
+he rose, and took his way to the room he had slept in of late, the first
+floor of the Tower of Silence.
+
+It was now half-past eight.
+
+"In half an hour I shall be free," he exclaimed rapturously to himself,
+as he turned up the gas.
+
+He shook the thick shutters of the window to ascertain that they were
+secure. He lit a candle, went up those hideous stairs to the first
+floor, bolted the shutters on the front window there and the shutters on
+the landing window.
+
+"I do not want the neighbours to see it too soon or they might come and
+_rescue_ me." He chuckled at the idea of being rescued, and descended to
+the storey beneath. On the landing here the window stood open. He looked
+out. All was still below. None of his household had ever occasion to go
+to the rear of the house after nightfall. No stranger could approach the
+house at the rear unless by passing through that hideous grove.
+
+The night was calm and dark and still. "Nothing could be better,"
+thought Grey, as he fixed the hooks of a ladder of ropes to an iron bar
+of the small balcony, and ascertained that the twine by which these
+hooks were to be unshipped ran freely through the ring screwed into the
+window-frame.
+
+"All's well," he thought. "Now be quick!"
+
+Going back again into the first-floor room, he rapidly took off his
+black frock-coat, light trousers, and waistcoat, and put on a
+tight-fitting corduroy suit, a pair of false whiskers and moustaches,
+and a low round hat.
+
+When this was done he looked in the glass, and started back with a
+shout. "By Jove!" cried he, after a moment; "I thought all was lost. I
+thought my own reflection was another man's! I _am_ already another man.
+I feel it in every fibre. No one who knew me, and thinks I am dead,
+would recognise me. I might walk down the streets of Daneford
+to-morrow, and talk about my own sad end to my most intimate friend, and
+he would not recognise me. The Daneford Bank would open an account for
+me to-morrow in the name of Grey, and observe no likeness between their
+new customer and their old master. I am a new man already. I feel new
+blood in all my veins, new sinews in all my limbs; the nightmare of the
+past is vanishing; I shall sleep now of nights, and whistle once more
+while I dress of mornings. Ten thousand times better this feeling than
+all the pomp my ambition longed for with the canker and the care."
+
+He took from the pocket of the coat he had removed a small packet,
+thinking: "All I want is the money. Twenty thousand pounds will be a
+large fortune in either Spain or Italy."
+
+He threw the clothes he had worn on the bed, opened the cupboard, and
+took out one after another four cans. Two of these he emptied over his
+own bed, one on the floor and furniture, and one on the landing and
+first flight of the stairs. Turpentine!
+
+He then threw the four cans on the bed, wrenched off the gas-brackets
+and set fire to the gas at the ends of the broken pipes.
+
+He cast one hasty glance round.
+
+"All right!"
+
+He struck a match and held it to the saturated bed.
+
+A little spirt of flame shot out of the counterpane to the match. The
+spirt of flame then fell back and spread slowly until it formed a spire
+as large as a pine-cone.
+
+Grey backed to the door and seized the handle.
+
+From that cone flashed twenty javelins of light this way and that. The
+air of the room sobbed, and a solid mass of white flame stood up over
+that bed.
+
+Swiftly opening the door Grey sprang out, and shut the door leading to
+the landing. A second he stood there, threw up his hands, and cried in a
+husky voice:
+
+"Saved!"
+
+He looked out of the window.
+
+"All right."
+
+He put his hand on the iron bar.
+
+"Quite firm."
+
+Suddenly he drew back. Had he seen anyone below?
+
+No.
+
+He put his hand on his breast.
+
+"The money is here," he whispered to himself, "but I have forgotten
+something. What is it?" A few seconds passed and he yelled: "I know! I
+know! What I forgot is on the roof."
+
+With furious speed he dashed up the noisome stairs.
+
+As he did so there arose a soft flapping sound at the door on the
+landing, and a lazy serpent of white flame crawled across the landing
+and climbed up the stairs.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A sweetheart of one of the maid-servants, leaving the Manor House by the
+side door at half-past nine, saw fire issuing from the window on the
+first floor of the tower, ran back to the servants' hall, and gave the
+alarm.
+
+By that time the fire raged madly, rioting on the parched woodwork of
+the staircase and the dry joists and planks of the floors. The staircase
+was a cavern of white flame. In front of the glare rushed a fierce
+column of black suffocating smoke. Twice already had a man tried to
+force his way down, and twice had he been driven back before the
+scalding vapour. Now he crouched on the roof in the corner furthest from
+the tank.
+
+By ten a small crowd had assembled and he could hear men at work. The
+roof was getting hot; now and then the opening from the staircase panted
+forth a cloud of sparks.
+
+"If they see me they will try to save me. They will come here, find out
+all, and save me--for the gallows. Better the fire."
+
+He crouched closer and held his breath lest they should hear him
+breathe. He had no memory of how he came to that roof. He must have
+rushed there in one of those unconscious moments.
+
+At half-past ten red tongues began to issue from the opening in the
+roof.
+
+By a quarter to eleven the weight of the tank told on the sapped roof.
+That portion showed signs of subsidence.
+
+Still the man crouched low, his eyes now fixed in agonised expectation
+on the tank.
+
+The man on the roof heard the clocks of Daneford strike eleven. Just
+then the tank trembled, swayed a moment, then shot downward with a roar.
+Up the hole made by it danced a cloud of flame.
+
+The man on the roof sprang to his feet, and with a shout leaped on the
+parapet crying:
+
+"Help! Help! For God's sake, help!"
+
+With that tank the evidence against him had vanished.
+
+A groan came up from the people below, and then a cheer.
+
+"The fire-escape is coming. Have courage!"
+
+Shading his eyes with his hands he looked in the direction of the lodge,
+and saw approaching by the carriage-way the fire-escape.
+
+"Help! Quick!"
+
+"Courage, Wat! We will save you!"
+
+Another crash. Something warm struck his back. He turned round. All the
+roof was gone now. He looked into a pool of flame.
+
+A fiercer blow than the former. Sight gone. Head giddy. Ah!
+
+They saw the flame touch him; they saw him thrust his arms before his
+face. They saw him sway, and fall into the crater.
+
+They knew he had lost his life in the tower that night, but they never
+knew that tower was the tomb of husband and wife.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well, Maud, as we are not leaving home for our honeymoon, and there is
+only one place in the Castle where you have never been--the top of the
+Tower of Silence, suppose we take lanterns and go there for an hour. I
+am curious to see this historic tower, this Weird Sister dowered with a
+legend of blood. You are not afraid to go."
+
+"I should like to go. There is nothing I would like better. It will be
+an adventure."
+
+When they were there he said: "I am glad we came. We are promised a
+glorious view presently. There is the moon rising."
+
+"The moon does not rise there. It rises here," pointing.
+
+"Then there must be a fire."
+
+"That is the direction of the Manor House----."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS, GREAT NEW STREET, FETTER LANE, E.C.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOTICE.
+
+Now ready, at every Library in the Kingdom,
+
+THE MYSTERY OF KILLARD.
+
+A New Novel.
+
+By RICHARD DOWLING,
+
+AUTHOR OF "THE WEIRD SISTERS." In Three Vols.
+
+     "A noticeable book; it contrives to arouse and maintain interest
+     with a very small number of incidents and personages, dramatically
+     handled. Hugo might in his younger days, and before he had learnt
+     the fatal lesson of setting his own personality above the claims of
+     art and reason, have given us such pictures."--_Academy._
+
+     "All things being taken in consideration, it may be pronounced a
+     decided success ... This work alone would have been enough to have
+     established the author's claim to a place amongst the first of
+     living writers of exciting fiction of the more intense
+     kind."--_Morning Post._
+
+     "Full of dramatic action. Clever delineations of strongly
+     contrasted human eccentricities, interwoven with which is a
+     love-story of singular freshness."--_Illustrated London News._
+
+     "The nature of the novel is indeed uncommonly fine."--_World._
+
+     "Novels are so apt to belie their name by running in the most
+     well-worn of ruts, and by exhibiting a striking deficiency of
+     novelty, that we welcome with special eagerness any outcome of real
+     imaginative invention; and the conception of the original
+     situation, the nature of which is sufficiently indicated here,
+     amply proves that Mr. Dowling possesses a large measure of genuine
+     creative power."--_Spectator._
+
+     "There is not a single bit of 'good society' in the whole book, an
+     omission for which readers may well be thankful. The story is kept
+     mysterious with success."--_Athenæum._
+
+     "The novel is unquestionably powerful, well written, true to the
+     life which it describes, and eminently pure and healthy in
+     tone."--_Globe._
+
+     "Mr. Dowling has wisely avoided the footsteps of his predecessors,
+     and has given us a powerfully realistic picture of the wild
+     unexplored beauty of the coast of Clare and its inhabitants, not
+     relying upon such poor phrases as 'begorra' and 'bedad' for humour.
+     The characters are well drawn, the descriptions are almost
+     photographic, and the story is vigorously written."--_Whitehall
+     Review._
+
+     "He has given us a book to 'read,' and one we can commend to all
+     who care for a realistic picture without the too common trash
+     associated with the ordinary novel."--_Examiner._
+
+     "Is a psychological study. The style is all that it should be:
+     simple, graphic, and at times powerful. We have not read a novel
+     with so much pleasure for a long time."--_John Bull._
+
+     "_A book to read and be thankful for. It will be a day to be marked
+     by a white stone when Mr. Dowling gives us another
+     novel._"--STANDARD.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TINSLEY BROTHERS' NEW NOVELS.
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "A LONDON SEASON."
+
+COUNTY PEOPLE. By Mrs. PENDER CUDLIP, author of "A London Season,"
+"Denis Donne," &c. 3 vols.
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "PRETTY MISS BELLEW."
+
+A GARDEN OF GIRLS. By THEO. GIFT, author of "Pretty Miss Bellew," "True
+to her Trust," "Maid Ellice," &c. 3 vols.
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "A WOMAN SCORNED."
+
+MOLLY CAREW. A New Novel. By E. OWENS BLACKBURN, author of "Illustrious
+Irishwomen," "A Woman Scorned," &c. 3 vols.
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "WILD GEORGIE."
+
+SEALED BY A KISS. By JEAN MIDDLEMASS, author of "Mr. Dorillion," "Wild
+Georgie," &c. 3 vols.
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "JENNIE OF 'THE PRINCE'S.'"
+
+NELL-ON AND OFF THE STAGE. By B. H. BUXTON, author of "Jennie of 'The
+Prince's,'" "Won," "Fetterless," "Great Grenfell Gardens," &c.
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE MYSTERY OF KILLARD."
+
+THE WEIRD SISTERS. By RICHARD DOWLING, author of "The Mystery of
+Killard," &c. 3 vols.
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "AN INNOCENT SINNER."
+
+OUR BOHEMIA. By MABEL COLLINS, author of "An Innocent Sinner," "In this
+World," &c. 3 vols.
+
+"You shall see great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your
+Sicilia."--_Winter's Tale._
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WEIRD SISTERS."
+
+THE MYSTERY OF KILLARD. By RICHARD DOWLING, author of "The Weird
+Sisters" (see "Tinsley's Magazine"). 3 vols.
+
+
+BY MAURICE LEE.
+
+O WHERE AND O WHERE? 2 vols.
+
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF "JULIET'S GUARDIAN."
+
+POOR WISDOM'S CHANCE. By Mrs. H. LOVETT CAMERON, author of "Juliet's
+Guardian," &c. 3 vols.
+
+THE BLACK COTTAGE; Or Tom Brace's Picture: _A GHOST STORY FOR THE
+FIRESIDE._ BY W. E. BROUGHAM.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TINSLEY BROTHERS' NEW PUBLICATIONS.
+
+Illustrated with upwards of 400 ENGRAVINGS from DESIGNS by GERMAN
+ARTISTS.
+
+Now ready, in 2 vols.
+
+BERLIN UNDER THE NEW EMPIRE.
+
+Its Institutions, Inhabitants, Industry, Monuments, Museums, Social
+Life, Manners, and Amusements.
+
+By HENRY VIZETELLY.
+
+AUTHOR OF "THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE," ETC.
+
+     "There is no lack of lively matter in Mr. Vizetelly's volumes,
+     while they embrace a vast amount of information of general interest
+     and permanent value. In a book which goes far beyond Berlin, Mr.
+     Vizetelly sketches with a vigorous hand the political and social
+     system of the Empire.... Nor less entertaining than these clever
+     social sketches are the political portraits, including public men
+     of all parties and of any note, from the Emperor and his mighty
+     Chancellor to the Socialist members of the Chambers. Nor, talking
+     of sketches, can we conclude our notice without referring again to
+     the excellent illustrations, chiefly of a humorous character, which
+     makes one smile over the perusal of the gravest chapters. The
+     selection is worthy of the author's reputation as an
+     artist."--_Times._
+
+     "We have to thank Mr. Henry Vizetelly for a really instructive
+     book. 'Berlin under the New Empire,' published by Messrs. Tinsley
+     Brothers, is a work of substantial information, conveniently
+     arranged, clearly and agreeably written, and mingled with
+     entertaining descriptive passages, and with lively notices of the
+     habits of the townsfolk.... These volumes contain, in short, a
+     large amount of materials for the understanding of present home
+     affairs in Prussia and North Germany, which are frequently made the
+     topic of remarks in the current journals of political
+     discussion."--_Illustrated London News._
+
+     "Mr. Vizetelly seems to have forgotten and omitted nothing that
+     could render these volumes instructive or contribute to the
+     entertainment of the reader; and the plentiful drawings with which
+     every page is furnished bring home to us with striking reality the
+     scenes so graphically described by the author."--_Daily News._
+
+     "Mr. Vizetelly's book, every page of which is interesting, is
+     unquestionably one of the best books of its kind that has appeared
+     in England for many years. In fact, we scarcely remember ever to
+     have read a more entertaining volume, or one which contains so much
+     valuable and evidently accurate information. It instructs and
+     amuses in equal degrees."--_Morning Post._
+
+     "After having discovered that a tribe of savages live in a sandy
+     desert somewhere in the north of Germany, and that their chief
+     kraal, a miserable stucco erection, is called Berlin, the author
+     proceeds to tell how those creatures manage to exist, what are
+     their institutions, manners, amusements, industries, and so
+     on."--_Athenæum._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FEMALE WARRIORS. Memorials of Female Heroism, from the Mythological Ages
+to the Present Era. By ELLEN C. CLAYTON, author of "Queens of Song,"
+"English Female Artists," &c.
+
+     English and Scotch Heroines; French, German, and Genoese Amazons;
+     Female Warriors of the Reformation; Heroines of the Irish
+     Rebellion; Captain Rodeaux, Female Officer in the French Army;
+     Christian Davies, Female Soldier in the 20th Foot; Hannah Snell,
+     Private in the Line and Marines; Phoebe Hessel, Private in the
+     5th Regiment; Hannah Whitney and Ann Chamberlayne, Female Sailors;
+     Mary Ralphson, Jenny Cameron, Pretty Polly Oliver, &c.
+
+     "The most successful of Miss Clayton's attempts to fittingly
+     commemorate the actions of the illustrious members of the softer
+     sex."--_Court Journal._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TYPICAL WORKING MEN AND WOMEN.
+
+By a WORKING MAN.
+
+     The Lushington, The Above-their-Business Order, The Club Man, The
+     Job-for-Life Man, The Rolling-stone, The Handy Man, The Workshop
+     Bully, The Workshop Oracle, The Saint Mondayite, The Unskilled
+     Labourer, The Regular Roadster, The Workshop Orator, The Hard
+     Bargain, The Cas'alty Man, The Thoroughly Domesticated Man, The
+     Evening-from-Home Man, The Single Man, The Wasteral, The Scholar,
+     The Last-Year Apprentice, The Bred-and-Born Housewife, Mrs. Muddle,
+     The Motherly Woman, Mrs. Meddle, The Woman who Works, Dorothy
+     Draggle-tail, &c.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Weird Sisters, Volume III (of 3), by 
+Richard Dowling
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41554 ***