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diff --git a/41656.txt b/41656.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5217f70..0000000 --- a/41656.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12312 +0,0 @@ - TOM MOORE - - - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: Tom Moore - An Unhistorical Romance, Founded on Certain Happenings in the - Life of Ireland's Greatest Poet -Author: Theodore Burt Sayre -Release Date: December 18, 2012 [EBook #41656] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM MOORE *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover] - - - - - _Here's a health to thee, Tom Moore!_--BYRON - - - -[Illustration: THE DESIRED IDEA FAILED TO MATERIALIZE.] - - - - - TOM MOORE - - _An_ Unhistorical Romance, Founded - _on_ Certain Happenings _in the_ Life - _of_ Ireland's Greatest Poet - - - By THEODORE BURT SAYRE - - - Author of "Two Summer Girls and I" - "The Son of Carleycroft," Etc. - - - - ILLUSTRATED - - THE MUSSON CO., LIMITED - TORONTO - - - - - Copyright, 1902 - By Frederick A. Stokes Company - - - Published in September 1902 - - - - FOURTH EDITION - - - - - _To_ - ANDREW MACK - - _With the author's grateful acknowledgment and appreciation - of the convincing art and rare personal charm of - the actor who has done so much to make - "Tom Moore" a success upon - the stage_ - - - - - Preface - - -In this book the author has endeavored to give to the reading public an -intimate presentation of one of the more famous of the literary giants -who made the beginning of the last century the most brilliant period in -the history of English Letters since the days of the Elizabethan -authors. - -Of Tom Moore's rank and attainments as a poet of the finest gifts very -little need be said. Posterity has placed the seal of everlasting -approval upon the best of his work and in the main is admirably ignorant -of his few less worthy productions. So it need not be feared that the -memory of the author of "Lalla Rookh," "The Last Rose of Summer," -"Love's Young Dream," and, lastly, the most tender and touching of all -love songs, "Believe Me, if All Those Endearing Young Charms," will ever -be less brightly preserved, less tenderly treasured, than it has been in -the years that have intervened since his death. - -"_Moore has a peculiarity of talent, or rather talents--poetry, music, -voice, all his own; and an expression in each, which never was, nor will -be, possessed by another.... There is nothing Moore may not do, if he -will but seriously set about it.... To me some of his Irish Melodies -are worth all the epics that ever were composed,_" wrote the hapless -Lord Byron, who was one of the gifted Irishman's most intimate and -faithful friends. - -"_The poet of all circles and the idol of his own._" - -No other words could so fitly describe the position of Moore in the -esteem of the public. His ballads are sung by peer and peasant, in -drawing-room and below stairs, and long ago the world at large began to -rival the affection and admiration with which the life work and memory -of the sweetest singer of them all has been cherished by the little -green island which so proudly proclaims itself as the birthplace of -this, its favorite son. But of the brilliant poet's early struggles, -failures, successes and ambitions little is known. From his own -writings and those of Lord Byron, Sir Walter Scott, Leigh Hunt and -Captain Trelawney, it has been gleaned that there never was a more -faithful friend, a more patient or devoted lover, a truer husband and -fonder father than Thomas Moore. His married life was as sweet and -tender as one of his own poems. Much is known of the happy years that -followed his wedding, but till now no attempt has been made to picture -the days of love and doubt that preceded the union which was destined to -prove so splendid an example of true connubial content. In regard to -historical accuracy, it is admitted that a certain amount of license has -been used. For the sake of gaining continuity, events spread over a -space of years have been brought within the compass of months, but aside -from this concentration of action, if it may be so described, the -happenings are in the main not incorrect. - -While it is true that Moore was never actually ejected from society by -the Prince of Wales, he did forfeit for a time the favor of that royal -gentleman until the authorship of certain offensive verses was -generously acknowledged by Lord Byron. The incident wherein Moore sells -his life-work to McDermot is pure fiction, but in truth he did succeed -in obtaining from Longmans an advance of L3,000 for "Lalla Rookh" before -it was even planned, an event which in this chronicle is supposed to -occur subsequent to his rescue from McDermot by Lord Brooking. Since -the advance really obtained was three times the amount he is made to -demand of the Scotch publisher the possibility of this particular part -of the occurrence is not to be questioned. - -For certain definite and easily comprehended reasons the real degree of -Moore's poverty when he arrived in London and previous to his talent's -recognition by the Regent, who did accept the dedication and thus insure -the success of his first volume of verses, has been exaggerated, but in -regard to his possession of the Laureateship of England the story deals -with fact. Nevertheless the correctness of this bestowal of favor by the -Prince of Wales was publicly denied in the columns of an influential New -York newspaper at the time of the play's first presentation in the -metropolis. For the enlightenment of those who may have been led into -error by this misstatement, at the time overlooked by the author, they -are referred to letter No. 63, from Moore to his mother, dated Friday, -May 20th, 1803, in the first volume of the "Memoirs, Journal, and -Correspondence of Thomas Moore," edited by Lord John Russell, in which -the poet gives his exact reasons for having recently relinquished the -post in question. - -It is also true that the first notable success of Bessie Dyke as an -actress was scored at Kilkenny, Ireland, instead of London. As her -elder sister, Mary, has no part in this story, she has been omitted -altogether, though her long and successful career upon the American -stage is a part of the national theatrical history. - -So far as the characters herein set forth are concerned but little -explanation is required. Those historical have been sketched in -accordance with the accounts of their peculiarities furnished by the -literature of the times. Several of the most important people are -entirely imaginary, or have been constructed by combining a number of -single individuals into one personage. - -In reply to the anticipated charge that the author cannot prove that the -incidents described in the progress of Moore's wooing ever happened, he -makes bold to answer that it is equally as impossible to prove that they -did not. - -With this explanation, necessary or unnecessary, as the future will no -doubt prove, the book "Tom Moore" is confided to the mercy of the public -which has so generously welcomed the play. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - _BOOK ONE_ - - _ONE AFTERNOON IN IRELAND_ - -CHAPTER - - I. Tom Moore goes Angling - II. Certain Happenings in Mistress Dyke's School - III. Tom Moore entertains Teacher and Pupils - IV. The Blackmailing of Tom Moore - V. Tom Moore gives Mistress Dyke an Inkling - VI. Two Gentlemen of Wealth and Breeding - VII. Tom Moore obliges a Friend and gets in Trouble - - - _BOOK TWO_ - - _ONE AFTERNOON IN ENGLAND_ - - VIII. Introduces Montgomery Julien Ethelbert Spinks - IX. Tom Moore receives Calls from Mrs. Malone and Mr. Dyke - X. In which the Landlady is played a Trick - XI. Tom Moore receives Visits from Two Cobblers and a Clerk - XII. In which the Poet warbles to Mrs. Malone - XIII. Tom Moore has a Bitter Disappointment and an Unexpected Visitor - XIV. Sir Percival Lovelace is favored by Fortune - - - _BOOK THREE_ - - _TWO EVENINGS IN HIGH SOCIETY_ - - XV. Sets Forth Certain Explanations - XVI. Tom Moore separates a Young Lady from her Skirt - XVII. Honors are Easy - XVIII. Tom Moore moves in Distinguished Company - XIX. Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Brummell, and Mr. Moore Hold Council of War - XX. Tom Moore makes a Bad Bargain - XXI. The Poet falls from Favor - - - _BOOK FOUR_ - - _A NIGHT OF ADVENTURE_ - - XXII. Tom Moore receives a Proposal of Marriage - XXIII. The Poet has Callers and gives a Dinner-Party - XXIV. Tom Moore hears of a Political Appointment - XXV. Sir Incognito receives a Warm Welcome - XXVI. Tom Moore's Servant proves a Friend in Need - XXVII. The Poet regains Royal Favor - - - - -The Play, founded by Mr. Sayre on the same incidents as the novel, was -produced by Messrs. Rich and Harris, with great success at the Herald -Square Theatre, New York, on the evening of the Thirty-first of August, -1901, with the following cast: - - TOM MOORE, Ireland's favorite poet . . . . . . . . . ANDREW MACK - PRINCE OF WALES, Regent of England . . . . . . . . . MYRON CALICE - SIR PERCIVAL LOVELACE, Boon Companion to the Prince GEORGE F. NASH - LORD MOIRA, Moore's friend and patron . . . . . . . THEODORE BABCOCK - ROBIN DYKE, an Irish minor poet . . . . . . . . . . GEORGE W. DEYO - SHERIDAN, the famous wit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . GILES SHINE - BEAU BRUMMELL, a leader of society . . . . . . . . . HARRY P. STONE - TERENCE FARRELL, a young Irishman . . . . . . . . . FRANK MAYNE - BUSTER, Moore's servant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . EDWARD J. HERON - MCDERMOTT, a publisher . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . RICHARD J. DILLON - SERVANT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . JOHN NAPIER - - MICKEY } { JOHNNY COOKE - WILLIE } { WILLIE COOKE - PATSEY } { AUGUSTUS WILKES - DICKY } { GEORGIE CADIEUX - JOHNNY } { JOHNNY WILKES - TOMMY } School { HAROLD GRAU - LIZZIE } Children { VIVIAN MARTIN - NELLIE } { ETHEL CLIFTON - MAGGIE } { MARY McMANUS - KATIE } { SYLVIA CASHIN - BRIDGET } { ISABEL BARRCACOLE - MARY } { LORETTA RUGE - - BESSIE DYKE, an Irish girl . . . . . . . . . . JOSEPHINE LOVETT - WINNIE FARRELL, an heiress . . . . . . . . . . SUSIE WILKERSON - MRS. FITZ-HERBERT, the Prince's favorite . . . JANE PEYTON - MRS. MALONE, Moore's landlady . . . . . . . . MAGGIE FIELDING - Courtiers, Ladies, Footmen, Servants, etc. - - - - - Book One - - - -"_The time I've lost in wooing,_ -_In watching and pursuing_ - _The light, that lies_ - _In woman's eyes,_ -_Has been my heart's undoing_" - - - - TOM MOORE - - - - _Chapter One_ - - _TOM MOORE GOES ANGLING_ - - -Mr. Thomas Moore was certainly in a very cheerful mood. This was -evidenced by the merry tune with which he was delighting himself, and a -jealous-minded thrush, with head cocked on one side, waited with -ill-concealed impatience for his rival to afford him the opportunity of -entering into competition. As this was not forthcoming, the bird took -wing with an angry flirt of the tail and mental objurgation levelled at -the unconscious head of the dapper young Irishman, who lilted gayly as -he wandered along the path worn in the sward of the meadow by the school -children on their way to and from the institution of learning presided -over by Mistress Elizabeth Dyke. - - "The time I've lost in wooing, - In watching and pursuing - The light, that lies - In woman's eyes, - Has been my heart's undoing." - - -Moore paused in his ditty and sat down on a convenient stone, while he -wiped his brow with a ragged silk handkerchief which, though of -unmistakably ancient origin, was immaculately clean. - -"Faith," he murmured, "there's no fiction in that last stanza. It's -broken-hearted I am, or as near it as an Irishman can be without too -much exertion." - -He sighed almost unhappily, and drawing a knife from his breeches pocket -proceeded to manufacture a whistle from the bark on the end of the long -willow wand he had cut a few moments before to serve as a fishing-rod. - -This last was accomplished after some little effort accompanied by much -pursing of lips and knitting of brows. - -His labors completed, Moore regarded the whistle with the critical -approval of an expert, and putting it to his mouth blew a shrill blast. -As the result was eminently satisfactory, he bestowed the toy in the -crown of his beaver and, crossing his legs comfortably, proceeded to -take his ease. - -His appearance was decidedly attractive. While quite a little below -middle size, his wiry figure was so well proportioned that in the -absence of other men nearer the ordinary standard of height, he would -have passed as a fine figure of a lad. He carried himself with easy -grace, but affected none of the mincing, studied mannerisms of the dandy -of the period. He had a round, jolly face, a pleasing though slightly -satirical mouth, an impudent nose, and a pair of fine eyes, so brightly -good-humored and laughingly intelligent, that no one could have looked -into their clear depths without realizing that this was no ordinary -youth. And yet at the period in his career from which dates the -beginning of this chronicle Tom Moore's fortunes were at a decidedly low -ebb. Disgusted and angry at the ill success which attended his attempts -to sell his verses to the magazines and papers of Dublin, for at this -time it was the exception, not the rule, when a poem from his pen was -printed and paid for, Moore gathered together his few traps, kissed his -mother and sisters good-bye, shook the hand of his father, then -barrackmaster of an English regiment resident in Ireland, and hied -himself to the sylvan beauties of the little town of Dalky. Here he -secured lodgings for little more than a trifle and began the revision of -his translation of the Odes of Anacreon, a task he had undertaken with -great enthusiasm a year previous. Thus it was that he chanced to be -wandering through the fields on fishing bent this bright and beautiful -morning in the year of our Lord 179-. - -[Illustration: Tom Moore] - -A small boy, barefooted and shock-headed, came across the meadow in the -direction of the schoolhouse visible in the distance on the crest of a -long, slowly rising hill. He carried a bundle of books and an old slate -tightly clutched under one arm, while from the hand left disengaged -swung a long switch with which he smartly decapitated the various weeds -which had achieved altitude sufficient to make them worthy of his -attention. - -Noticing Moore for the first time, the boy's face brightened and lost -its crafty look of prematurely developed cunning and anxiety, as he -approached with a perceptible quickening of his gait. - -"Is it you, Mr. Moore?" he said, a rich brogue flavoring his utterance. - -"Unless I am greatly mistaken, Micky, you have guessed my identity," -admitted the young man, making a playful slap with his rod at the -new-comer's bare shins, which the lad evaded with an agility that -bespoke practice, at the same time skilfully parrying with his switch. - -"Goin' fishin'?" - -"Shooting, my boy. Don't you perceive my fowling-piece?" replied Moore, -waving his fish-pole in the air. - -"Sure," said Micky, grinning broadly, "you will have your joke." - -"None of the editors will, so, if I did n't, who would?" responded -Moore, with a smile not altogether untinged by bitterness. "Where are -you going, Micky?" - -"To school, sir, bad cess to it." - -"Such enthusiasm in the pursuit of education is worthy of the highest -commendation, my lad." - -"Is it?" said Micky doubtfully. "What's that, Mr. Moore?" - -"Commendation?" - -"Yis." - -"Well, if I said you were a good boy, what would that be?" - -"Father would say it was a d--n lie." - -Moore chuckled. - -"Well, we will let it go at that. You seem to be in a great hurry, -Micky." - -"So do you, sir." - -"Humph!" said Moore. "I perceive you are blessed with an observing -mind. Have you observed the whereabouts of a trout brook that is -located somewhere in this neighborhood?" - -"Yis," replied Micky, himself an enthusiastic fisherman. "I have that. -Don't ye know the place, Mr. Moore?" - -"Not I, my lad, but, since Providence has sent you along to show me the -way, I 'll speedily be possessed of that knowledge." - -Micky looked doubtfully in the direction of the schoolhouse. It was -almost time for the afternoon session, but the day was too beautiful to -be spent in the dull depths of the school without regret. - -"I 'd show you the way, sir, gladly, but it 'll make me late." - -"Are you afraid of Mistress Dyke?" queried Moore, noticing the boy's -hesitation. - -"Yis, sir." - -"So am I, my lad." - -Micky looked surprised. That this dashing young blade in whose person -were apparently embodied all the manly virtues, at least from the lad's -point of view, should stand in dread of such a soft-eyed, red-cheeked -little bundle of femininity as his schoolmistress was a matter beyond -his juvenile comprehension. - -"And why, sir?" asked the boy curiously. - -"She 's very pretty," replied Moore. "When you are older you will -understand what it is to be in awe of a trim little miss with the blue -sky in her eyes and a ripple of red merriment for a mouth. In the -meantime you shall show me the way to the brook." - -"But she 'll lick me," objected Micky, numerous ferulings keenly in -mind. - -"Not she, my laddybuck. To-day I 'm coming to visit the school. Tell -her that and she 'll not whack you at all." - -"Won't she?" - -"No, she will be so pleased, she will more than likely kiss you." - -"Then why don't you go and tell her yourself? You would like the kiss, -would n't you?" - -"Micky," said Moore solemnly, "you have discovered my secret. I -_would_. Ah me! my lad, how little we appreciate such dispensations of -Providence when we are favored with them. Now you, you raparee--you -would much rather she did n't practise osculation upon you." - -Micky nodded. He did not understand what his companion meant, but he -was quite convinced that the assertion made by him was absolutely -correct. - -What a beautiful thing is faith! - -"A pretty teacher beats the devil, Micky, and you have the prettiest in -Ireland. I wish I could be taught by such a preceptress. I 'd need -instruction both day and night, and that last is no lie, even at this -day, if the lesson were to be in love," he added, a twinkle in his eyes, -though his face was perfectly sober. - -"Sure," said Micky, "she don't think you nade lessons. I heard her tell -Squire Farrell's daughter blarney ran off your tongue like water off a -duck's back." - -"What is that?" said Moore. "I 'll have to investigate this matter -thoroughly." - -At this moment the metallic clang of an old fashioned hand-bell sounded -faintly down the hillside mellowed into comparative melodiousness by the -intervening distance. - -"Ah," said Moore, "your absence has been reported to Mistress Dyke, and -she has tolled the bell." - -It seemed as though the young Irishman's execrable pun decided the -ragged urchin that the way of the transgressor might be hard, for, -without further hesitation, he took to his heels and fled in the -direction of the schoolhouse. - -After a moment's thought Moore followed him, beating time with the -willow fishing-rod to the song which half unconsciously issued from his -lips as he turned his steps in the direction of the headquarters of -Mistress Bessie Dyke. - -Tom Moore was going angling, but not for trout. - - - - - _Chapter Two_ - - _CERTAIN HAPPENINGS IN MISTRESS DYKE'S SCHOOL_ - - -Over her desk, waiting for developments, leaned Mistress Dyke. A moment -passed, then the tousled head of the tardy Micky appeared above the -level of the bench behind which he had secured shelter after carefully -crawling on hands and knees from the door, having by extreme good -fortune, made the hazardous journey undetected. Only the fatally -unwelcome interest displayed in this performance by the red-headed boy -on the front row prevented the success of Micky's strategy. As it was, -the blue eyes of Bessie met his with a glance of reproof as he slid -noiselessly into his place. - -"Micky." - -The boy rose reluctantly to his feet. - -Bessie looked at him severely. To his youthful mind she appeared very -stern indeed; but, if the truth were known, to the ordinary adult eye -she presented no fiercer exterior than that ordinarily produced by a -slight feeling of irritation upon the aspect of a kitten of tender age. -Smiles always lurked in Bessie's big blue eyes, and little waves of -mirth were ever ready to ripple out from the corners of her mouth at the -slightest provocation, so it can readily be understood that it was no -easy task for her to sternly interrogate the freckle-faced youth who, -beneath her disapproving gaze, shifted uneasily from one bare foot to -the other. - -Mistress Dyke ruled by love, and if she did not love by rule, it is -merely another instance where exception can be taken to the old saw -which so boldly and incorrectly states that a good maxim must of -necessity be reversible. - -"Why are you late, Micky?" demanded Bessie. - -"Sure, mistress, I dunno," was the hopeless response. - -"You don't know, Micky? How foolish!" - -"Yis 'm," assented Micky. "I was foolish to be late." - -Bessie smiled and then tried to deceive the school into the belief that -it was only the beginning of a yawn by patting her mouth with a dimpled -palm. The school knew better and anxiety grew less. - -"But there must be some reason for it," she persisted. - -"I know," said a little lad with long yellow curls, which were made -doubly brilliant by the red flannel shirt that enveloped him, materially -assisted by diminutive trousers, with a patch of goodly proportions upon -the bosom. "I saw him goin' fishin' wid Mr. Moore." - -"Tattle-tale! Tattle-tale," came in reprimanding chorus from the other -pupils. Dicky, quite unabashed by this disapproval, made a gesture of -defiance and returned to his place. Unfortunately the copper-tipped -brogan of one Willy Donohue, who chanced to be sitting immediately in -the rear of the youthful informer, was deftly inserted beneath Dicky as -he started to seat himself. - -The result of this was that the cherubic Richard arose, with an -exclamation of pain and surprise, much more quickly than he sat down. - -"Dicky, you may remain after school. I want no tell-tales here," said -Bessie. - -"Teacher, Willy Donohue put his foot in me seat," expostulated Dicky, on -whom the lesson was quite thrown away. - -"Willy shall stay after school, also." - -"Ah-h-h!" remarked Dicky, mollified at the prospect of his unkind fate -being shared by an old-time enemy. - -"I wish you wuz big enough to lick," growled Willy, under his breath. -"Your own mother would n't know you after the flakin' I 'd give you. I -'d snatch you baldheaded, baby." - -Dicky turned his head far enough over his shoulder to prevent Mistress -Dyke from observing the protrusion of his tongue, and was so unlucky as -to be hit fairly in the eye with a paper pellet, amply moistened, -propelled with all the force the vigorous lungs of the prettiest girl in -school, aided by a tube of paper torn from the back of her geography, -could impart to it. - -"Teacher, Milly O'Connor hit me in the eye wid a spit ball," snivelled -Dicky, who, being of tender years, did not share in the general -masculine scholastic worship of the youthful belle, who was admired and -fought over by the larger boys, on whom she bestowed her favors quite -impartially. - -"Oh dear!" sighed Bessie. "Was there ever such a lot of children? -Milly, rise." - -Milly stood up without any visible sign of contrition or embarrassment. -She was a pretty, dark-curled lassie of ten, dressed neatly and -becomingly, which made her doubly prominent in her present surroundings, -for most of the children were of such poverty-stricken parentage that -the virtue possessed by their wearing apparel consisted almost entirely -in sheltering and hiding rather than ornamenting their small persons. - -"What shall I do to punish you?" asked Bessie, wearily. - -"You might ferule her, teacher," suggested Dicky, good-humoredly coming -to the rescue. - -"Dicky, mind your own business," said Bessie severely, "or I 'll ferule -you. Now I shall punish you both. Milly, kiss Dicky immediately." - -"I don't want to kiss a tattle-tale," said Milly, who placed fully the -proper valuation on her caresses. - -"Exactly," said Bessie. "This is a punishment, not a reward of merit." - -"Not for Dicky," corrected Milly. "He will like it, teacher." - -But here the little lady was in grievous error, for when she, resignedly -obedient, approached the small rascal, he promptly burst into tears and, -dropping on the floor, hid his head under the bench. This was more than -Bessie had bargained for, and she was about to motion Milly to return to -her seat when Patsy, a youth with carroty red locks already mentioned, -rose from his place on the front bench, burning with the noble flame of -self-sacrifice. - -"She can kiss me instead, teacher," he announced heroically, "and you -can let Dicky off this time." - -Bessie laughed outright in spite of herself, but Milly, regarding -Patsy's suggestion as nothing short of positive insult, turned her back -on the admiring gaze of the gallant youth. - -"I think we will excuse you, Patsy. Dicky is punished sufficiently, and -I fancy Milly will behave herself in the future." - -Patsy sat down with a gulp of regret, not comforted by Milly's whisper: - -"I 'd do anything rather than kiss that red-headed monkey." - -Micky, to whom she had imparted this welcome information, nodded -approval. - -"Wait till I catch him after school," he murmured hostilely. "I 'll -dust his jacket for him." - -Meanwhile Bessie had rescued Dicky from his grief and apprehension, and, -when the curly-headed youth had had his nose blown and resumed his seat, -school assumed its wonted quiet until the sight of a tiny mouse nibbling -a bit of cracker under an unoccupied bench drew forth a scream of terror -from Milly, who considered herself entitled by age to the enjoyment of -all the follies peculiar to her sex. - -"A mouse!" she shrieked. "Oh, teacher, teacher, save me!" - -And she immediately sought a position of safety upon the seat. - -Pandemonium broke loose. The other little girls not to be outdone -became equally as frightened, and followed Milly in her ascent, an -example which was most shamefully emulated by Bessie herself, with her -desk as the base of operations. - -Patsy plunged headlong in the direction of the small disturber bent on -demolishing it with his geography. The other boys were equally prompt in -following the chase, with the exception of Micky, who, realizing this -was an excellent opportunity for administering a rebuke to his latest -rival's amatory ambition, stepped quickly behind his enemy and kicked -him in the place handiest at the time with an enthusiasm worthy of a -better cause. Patsy, justly aggrieved, abandoned the pursuit, and, -rising to his feet, smote Micky in the neck with a force that jarred him -mentally as well as physically. Retaliation followed in a swinging blow -on Patsy's snub nose, and a clinch ensued which continued in spite of -Bessie's desperate remonstrances until Tom Moore put his head in the -window, realized the necessity for prompt action, ran to the door, -entered, and, seizing the combatants by their collars, tore them apart -by main strength. - - - - - _Chapter Three_ - - _TOM MOORE ENTERTAINS TEACHER AND PUPILS_ - - -Moore held the boys at arm's length, thus frustrating their desperate -attempts to continue the battle, and glancing up at Bessie, who was -still perched on the desk, favored her with a look of mingled -astonishment and admiration. - -"What a nice quiet time you have been having! Quite like a baby -Donnybrook," he remarked cheerfully. "Are you trying to fly, Bessie, -that you are up so high?" - -"Oh, Tom, you came just in time." - -"That is a habit of mine," replied Moore, and then, turning his -attention to his prisoners, he continued: - -"Now, my bully gladiators, what is the cause of this gentle argument?" - -"Misther Moore, he said I looked like a monkey the other day," answered -Micky, harking back to an insult that had long rankled in his memory. - -"He kicked me, he did," said Patsy, "and I gave him a oner in the neck -for it, I did." - -"Red-head!" ejaculated Micky in tones of scorn. "He wanted Milly to kiss -him, the puckorn!" - -"Which is Milly?" inquired Moore, scanning the other scholars -interrogatively. - -"I am," answered that young lady, delightfully free from embarrassment. - -"I don't blame you at all, Patsy," observed the poet regarding the -youthful belle with approval. "Are you desperately fond of her?" - -"To be sure," responded Patsy, valiantly. "I 'm going to marry her." - -"As though I 'd marry _that_," remarked Milly, in accents by no means -admiring. - -"Never mind that, Miss Milly! An honest man's love is not to be scorned -even when it's in short breeches," said Moore, reprovingly. "So it is -jealousy that is at the bottom of this quarrel? Faith, I 'll settle it -right here. Neither of you lads shall have Milly. I 'll marry her -myself." - -"All right," said Milly, cocking her eye at Bessie, "if teacher has no -objection, I haven't." - -"What an idea!" ejaculated the schoolmistress, descending from her desk. -"Tom, how can you talk such nonsense?" - -"Don't mind her, Milly. It's only jealousy," said Moore. "Boys, this -fight is postponed till after hours." Then he added, in a whisper, "I -'ll referee it myself. Go to your seats." - -"Each of you boys will remain in an hour after school is dismissed," -said Bessie, severely. - -Moore stepped quickly to the desk where she had seated herself -preparatory to continuing the session. - -"Oh murder, no!" he expostulated in an undertone. "How can I talk to -you, Bessie, if they are here?" - -"Do you wish to talk to me, Mr. Moore?" asked the guileless maiden, as -though surprised. - -"I am dying to, Bessie," said he. - -"On second thoughts, boys," she announced, "since Mr. Moore has -interceded for you, you need not stay in, but there is to be no more -fighting after school. I don't like quarrelling." - -"Then you have made up your mind to be an old maid, have you?" murmured -Moore. - -Bessie tossed her head disdainfully. - -"Are you sure the mouse is gone?" she asked, evading the question. - -"I think I see it there," exclaimed Moore. "Look out, Bessie!" - -"Oh!" cried the girl, relapsing into fright and seizing hold of her -companion for safety's sake. "Don't let the horrid thing come near me!" - -Moore chuckled and released himself from her appealing grasp. - -"Please be more respectful, Mistress Dyke," he said reprovingly. "I 'll -not have you seizing hold of me like this. It is entirely too familiar -treatment for a young unmarried man to submit to at such short notice -and unchaperoned. Have you no bringing up at all? What do you suppose -my mother would say if she thought I permitted you to take such -liberties?" - -"Oh, never mind your mother," said Bessie pettishly, deciding that she -was in no particular danger at the present moment. - -"That is nice advice to give a young lad," commented Moore, drawing a -rose from his button-hole. "See, Bessie, I have brought you a posey, the -last blossom on the bush. Some day, if I have the time, I shall write a -poem on the subject." - -"Thank you, Tom." - -As she spoke, Bessie put the flower in a glass of water on the desk that -already held a bunch of clover plucked for her by the grimy fingers of -one of her pupils. - -Dicky stood up and raised his hand. - -"Please, teacher," he lisped, "is Mr. Moore going to sing for us?" - -"Sure as life," said Moore, his vanity tickled. - -A murmur of approval came from the children. The young Irishman had -amused them with his fine voice more than once, extracting in return -from their evident enjoyment quite as much pleasure as his music -afforded them. - -"What shall it be, teacher?" he asked, turning to Bessie. - -"Oh, anything but one of those odes from Anacreon, Tom. They are simply -terrible." - -"But you read them all." - -"I blush to admit it," answered the girl, frowning at his lack of tact -in recalling such an indiscreet proceeding. - -"Ah, Bessie," he murmured tenderly, "I'd admit anything for the sake of -seeing the roses steal in and out of your dear cheeks. Why, it is like -watching the sunset sweeping over the clouds in the west on a summer -evening." - -"Sing, Thomas Moore," commanded the girl, but a softer look came into -her eyes as she settled comfortably back in her chair to listen. - -"I 'd like to pass my life singing to you, Bessie." - -"That's all very well, Tom, but the notes from your throat are not taken -at the bank." - -"Well," retorted he, cheerily, "to get even, it is not many bank-notes I -take." - -Moore, after fetching a high stool from a distant corner of the room, -perched himself upon it and began to sing, the school-room echoing with -the clear ringing voice that was destined in after years to be the -delight of the most fashionable circle in Europe. He had selected an old -ballad setting forth the emotions felt by a world-worn traveller as he -threaded the streets of his native village after years of wandering -abroad, and, as the chorus was composed of the various song-game rhymes -sung by the children in their play, it was quite familiar to the pupils -of Mistress Dyke, who joined in heartily. - -"Ready," cried Moore, beckoning the children from their places. "Now, -all together. - - "'I came to see Miss Jenny O'Jones, - Jenny O'Jones, Jenny O'Jones, - I came to see Miss Jenny O'Jones, - And how is she to-day?'" - -[Illustration: "'Ready,' cried Moore, 'Now, all together.'"] - -Hand in hand the children, their shrill voices raised tunefully under -the leadership of Moore, marched gayly forward and back, the poet -prancing as joyously as any of them, as he beat time with a ruler. - -"Second verse," he said, and, enjoying every note, sang it through to -the huge delight of his audience, who, when the chorus was reached a -second time, danced around him in a circle, their pleasure proving so -infectious that Bessie herself deserted her desk to take part in the -wind-up, which was both uproarious and prolonged. - -"That will do you," said Moore, mopping his face with his handkerchief. -"Faith, it is great fun we have been having, Bessie." - -"So it appears," she replied, rapping on the desk for order. - -"You have a fine lot of pupils, Bessie. I 'd like to be father of them -all." - -"Mr. Moore!" exclaimed the girl, horrified at such a wish. - -"I mean I 'd like to have a family as smart as they look," explained -Moore, helping himself to a chair. - -"That would not require much effort," replied the girl, coldly. - -"But it would take time," suggested the graceless young joker. Then he -continued, as Bessie gave him a freezing glance, "I mean, never having -been married, I don't know, so I will have to take your word for it." - -"You deserve to be punished for your impudence, Tom Moore." - -"Since I 'm a bachelor, that is easy brought about, Bessie." - -"Who would marry such a rogue as you?" - -"I 'm not going to betray the ladies' confidence in my honor by giving -you a list of their names," replied Moore, virtuously. Then he added -softly: - -"I know something--I mean _some one_--I deserve, whom I am afraid I -won't get." - -"Sooner or later we all get our deserts," said Bessie, wisely. - -"I want her for more than dessert," he answered. "For three meals of -love a day and a light lunch in the evening." - -"It is time to dismiss school." - -"I am not sorry for that; send the darlings home." - -"And another thing, Tom Moore, you must never come here again during -school hours. It is impossible to control the children when you are -around." - -Moore laughed. - -"You had them nicely controlled when I arrived, didn't you?" said he. -"Oh, well, I'll come later and stay longer. Dismiss them." - -Bessie rang the bell, and school broke up for the day immediately. - - - - - _Chapter Four_ - - _THE BLACKMAILING OF TOM MOORE_ - - -After bidding good-bye to the visitor most of the children crowded -noisily out of the door, rejoicing at their resumption of freedom, but -Patsy, he of the red hair, seated himself deliberately on the front -bench and immediately became deeply interested in his arithmetic, his -presence for the moment being completely overlooked by Moore, whose -attention was attracted by the attempt of a ragged little miss to make -an unnoticed exit. - -"Little girl," said Moore, gently, "why are you going without saying -good-bye to me? What have I done to deserve such treatment from a young -lady?" - -The child thus reproached, a tiny blonde-haired maiden, dressed in a -faded and ragged frock, looked timidly at her questioner, and flushed to -her temples. - -"I thought you would n't want to say good-bye to me, sir," she answered, -shyly. - -"And why not, alanna?" - -"'Cause I 'm poor," she whispered. - -A tender look came into Moore's eyes and he crossed to the side of the -child, his generous heart full of pity for the little one's -embarrassment. - -"I 'm poor, too," he said, patting her yellow curls. "Where do you live, -my dear?" - -"Down by the Mill, sir, with my auntie." - -"And is this the best dress she can give you?" he asked, trying the -texture of the little gown and finding it threadbare and thin. - -The child looked down at her feet, for the moment abashed, then raising -her eyes to the young man's face, read only sympathy and tenderness -there, and, thus encouraged, answered bravely: - -"It is better than _hers_." - -"Then we can't complain, dear, can we? Of course not, but is n't it -very thin?" - -"Yes, sir, but I would n't mind if it was a bit more stylish." - -Moore looked at Bessie, smiling at this characteristic manifestation of -femininity. - -"The size of her!" he said. "With a woman's vanity already." - -Then, turning to the child again, he continued: - -"Well, we poor people must stick together. I 'll call on your aunt -to-morrow." - -"Will you?" cried the girl in delight. "And you 'll sing to us?" - -"That I will," said Moore, heartily. "Now run along like a good girl, -and mind me, dear, never be ashamed of your honest poverty. Remember -that the best man of us all slept in a manger." - -"Yes, sir," responded the child, happily, "I 'll not forget." - -As she started for the door Moore called her back and put a shilling in -her little pink palm. - -"What will you do with it?" he asked, chucking her under the chin. - -"Buy a ribbon, sir." - -"A ribbon?" echoed Moore in imitation of her jubilant tone. - -"For me auntie." - -"Bless your generous little heart," said Moore, drawing another coin -from his pocket. "There is the like of it for yourself. Buy one for -each of you. Now off you go. Good-bye." - -The child ran lightly to the door, but, as she reached the steps, -turned, as though struck by a sudden thought, and beckoned to Moore. - -"You may kiss me, sir," she announced with as much dignity as though she -were bestowing upon her benefactor some priceless gift, as indeed she -was, for certainly she possessed nothing more valuable. Then, after he -had availed himself of her offer, she courtesied with childish grace and -trotted gayly off, her two precious shillings tightly clutched in her -hand. Believing himself to be alone with Bessie, Moore hastened toward -her with outstretched arms, but was suddenly made aware of the presence -of a third party by Patsy, who discreetly cleared his throat as he sat -immersed in his book. - -Moore turned to Bessie. - -"What is that lad doing there?" he whispered. "Does n't he know school -is over?" - -"How should I know?" she answered, though a glint of fun in her eyes -showed she was not without her suspicion as to the reason of Patsy's -presence. - -"You might ask him what he wants," she suggested encouragingly. - -"I will," said Moore, approaching the interrupter of his wooing with a -disapproving expression upon his face. - -"Look here, my son, don't you know school is dismissed?" - -"Yis, sir," replied Patsy, loudly. - -"And yet you are still here?" - -"Yis, sir." - -"Bad luck to you, can't you say anything but 'Yis, sir'?" - -"No, sir," responded Patsy, not at all intimidated by Moore's glowering -looks. - -"That is better," said Moore. "You are going home now?" - -"No, sir." - -"There you go again! Faith, I wish you would say 'Yes' and stick to it. -What are you doing here at this unseasonable hour?" - -"I wish to study me lessons," replied Patsy, enthusiastically. - -Fairly dashed, Moore returned to Bessie. - -"I never saw a lad so fond of his books before," said he. - -"It is a new thing for Patsy," said Bessie with a laugh. "There is no -bigger dunce in school." - -"Is that so?" asked Moore. "Faith, I'm beginning to understand." - -Patsy looked sharply over his book at the young poet. - -"Can't you study at home, my lad?" - -"No, sir." - -"Will you never say 'Yes, sir,' again?" - -"No, sir." - -"Now look here, my young friend, if you say 'Yes, sir,' or 'No, sir,' -again I 'll beat the life out of you." - -"_All right_, sir," responded Patsy, plunging his face still deeper into -his book. - -Moore regarded his small tormentor with a look of dismay. - -"You will strain your eyes with so much study, Patsy," he said, -warningly. "That is what you will do,--and go blind and have to be led -around by a stick, leaning on a small dog." - -A suppressed giggle from Bessie drew his attention to his mistake. - -"It 's the other way round I mean. Are n't you afraid of that sad fate, -my bucko?" - -Patsy shook his head and continued his energetic investigation of his -arithmetic, while Moore sought counsel from the schoolmistress, who was -keenly enjoying her admirer's discomfiture. - -"What will I say to the little tinker, Bessie?" he asked, ruefully. - -"How should I know, Tom? I am his teacher and will have to help him if -he wishes it." - -"What is it troubles you?" demanded Moore, looking down on Patsy's red -head. - -"A sum, sir," replied Patsy. - -"Show it to me." - -The boy designated an example with his finger. - -"'If a man sold forty eggs at one ha'penny an egg,'" read Moore from the -book, "'how many eggs--'?" - -Shutting up the arithmetic, he put his hand in his pocket and jingled -its contents merrily. - -"Is the answer to this problem sixpence?" he asked. - -"Oh, no, sir," replied Patsy ingenuously. - -"What is, then?" demanded Moore, baffled. - -"Two shillings," announced the graceless youth. - -"I 'll give you one," said Moore, suggesting a compromise, but Patsy was -not to be so lowered in his price. - -"_Two_ is the answer," he replied in a determined tone. - -Moore yielded without further protest and produced the money. - -"There you are, you murdering blackmailer," said he. "Now get out -before I warm your jacket." - -Patsy seized his books, and, dodging a cuff aimed at him by his victim, -ran out of the schoolhouse with a derisive yell. - -"Bessie," said Moore, solemnly, "that little spalpeen will surely come -to some bad end." - -"And be hanged?" asked the girl, taking a handful of goose-quills from -her desk preparatory to sharpening them into pens with an old knife -drawn from the same storehouse. - -"Or get married, my sweet girl, though they say death is better than -torture," replied Moore, approaching the schoolmistress. "Do you know -it cost me two shillings to get a talk with you?" - -Bessie smiled and finished a pen with exquisite care. - -"Talk is cheap," she observed, carelessly. - -"Whoever said that never called at your school, Bessie Dyke," said -Moore, perching himself upon her desk. "Turn your face a bit the other -way, if you please." - -As he spoke he took the girl's round chin in his hands and moved her -head until only a side view of her pretty face could be obtained from -his post of vantage. - -"Do you like my profile so much, Tom?" she asked, submitting docilely to -his direction. - -"It's not that, Bessie," answered Moore, "it's because I can't stand two -such eyes at once. Now there is but one of them looking at me. And -such an eye! My heart's jumping under my jacket like a tethered -bullfrog with the glance of it. Ah, Bessie, there is only one in the -wide world like it." - -"And where is that?" asked the girl, a shade of jealousy perceptible in -her inquiry. - -"Just around the bend of your nose, mavourneen," laughed Moore. "Filled -with melted moonshine are both of them. Sure, one soft look from those -eyes would make a cocked hat out of starlight." - -"Would it?" murmured Bessie, charmed in spite of herself. "Do you -really mean all you say?" - -"Mean it? It's poor justice my words do your beauty, Bessie dear. You -have the sauciest, darlingest, scornfullest nose, and such a mouth! -Why, to look at it makes my lips pucker." - -"A lemon would do the same," observed Bessie, foiling Moore's attempt to -snatch a kiss by sitting back in her chair. "You need not think I -believe all your nonsense, Thomas Moore." - -"Don't you believe what I have just said, Bessie?" - -"Not I. You need n't flatter yourself." - -"Why needn't I? Will you do it for me?" - -"I have something better to do," replied Bessie, paring another quill -with much vigor. - -"That is what I call a cutting remark," said Moore, looking at the -knife. - -Bessie sighed, and temporarily abandoned her labors. - -"Tom Moore," she said solemnly, "why will you make such awful puns?" - -"Practice makes perfect, my dear. If I keep on, some day I may make a -good one." - -"I wonder if there ever was a good pun?" - -"Keep on wondering. You look like an angel pondering over the fit of -her wings." - -"Tom, that is sacrilegious." - -"You 're wrong, Bessie, it's only poetry." - -Bessie frowned. Like all good women, she did not like to hear religion -spoken of lightly, so she rebuked the erring Thomas with a glance. - -"You are pretty even when you frown, Bessie," remarked the unregenerate -versifier. - -Bessie attempted to look doubtful as to the truth of this last -statement. - -"Why should n't you believe me? Has n't your mirror showed you day -after day what I am telling you?" - -As he spoke Moore took her hand in his, not noticing that one slender -finger was wound round by a bandage. Bessie gave a little cry of pain. - -"What is the matter?" - -"You hurt me," she answered, exhibiting her finger. - -"I 'm more than sorry, Bessie, but what ails your pinkie?" - -"I burned my hand." - -"Shall I burn the other for you?" asked Moore, extending his in -invitation. - -"How could you?" she demanded, suspecting a trap. - -"Why," said Moore, "with a kiss half as warm as my heart." - -Bessie giggled, then tried to resume her dignity, but Moore had no -intention of letting such an advantage pass unutilized, and, seizing her -uninjured hand, planted a hearty smack in its warm palm. - -"_Mr. Moore!_" - -"Mistress Dyke!" - -"I shan't allow you to stay here if you cannot behave in a sensible -manner," she threatened. - -"I'm not sensible?" - -"Not now." - -"Then, if I am not sensible, I am unconscious, and, if I am unconscious, -I am not responsible for what I do." - -Moore with this justification made a sudden attempt to embrace Bessie, -who, always prepared for such lawlessness, evaded his outstretched arms -and retaliated by pricking him with her knife, a proceeding which -resulted in the instant removal of the poet's person from her desk, -accompanied by an ejaculation that sounded suspiciously like profanity. - -"What did you say, Tom?" asked Bessie with a gurgle of satisfaction. -For once she had the better of her resourceful admirer. - -"You will have to guess that, Bessie," he remarked. "Do you think that -is a nice way to treat a young man?" - -"Oh, it was only a joke," said Bessie, quite unrepentant. - -"Your jokes are too pointed," said Moore. "After this please refrain -from any that are sharp enough to go clean through doe-skin breeches and -I 'll thank you." - -The door opened suddenly and Dicky, still resplendent in red shirt and -golden curls, appeared, carrying a book. He halted on the threshold and -looked inquiringly at his teacher. - -"Egad, it's the cherub!" exclaimed Moore. - -Taking courage, Dicky toddled in, book in hand, and approached Moore, -who gazed wonderingly down at him. - -"Well, my lad, what do you want?" - -"Please, sir," piped Dicky, "I wants help wid me lessons," and he held -up his book. Bessie stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth to smother -her laughter, while a look of understanding came into Moore's eyes. - -"Oh, you want help, do you?" said the latter. - -"Yis, sir, wid me aris'metic," announced Dicky, laboring earnestly to -bring forth the big word and catching some of the edges with his teeth -in spite of the exertion. "It's a sum, sir." - -"A sum indeed?" echoed Moore. - -"Yis, sir, and the answer is one shillin', sir." - -Moore looked over at Bessie, who almost choked and had to seek relief in -coughing. Then he regarded the recently arrived blackmailer with a -glance that he vainly endeavored to make severe, but Dicky perceived the -twist of mirth at the sides of his victim's mouth, and took heart -accordingly. - -"A shilling, my young Jack Sheppard?" said Moore, feeling in his pocket. -"I 'll give you a six-pence." - -"Patsy said it was a _shillin'_," insisted Dicky, stamping his feet by -way of emphasis. - -Moore yielded in shameful defeat. - -"There you are, you highwayman, and you tell Patsy I 'll flake him when -I catch him again," he said, handing out the desired coin. "You see -that door? Well, get through it as quickly as you can, or I may do you -bodily injury." - -Dicky fled wildly across the school-room with Moore galloping at his -heels, then the door shut with a bang, and the pair were alone again. - - - - - _Chapter Five_ - - _TOM MOORE GIVES MISTRESS DYKE AN INKLING_ - - -Moore regarded Bessie with a glance of reproving indignation, which was -quite lost upon the young lady. - -"I 'm in a den of thieves, I am," he remarked, sternly. "Bessie, I half -believe you put those lads up to that same game. What share do you get? -Half, I 'll wager." - -"When do you go back to Dublin, Tom?" asked the girl, waving aside his -insinuation with a flirt of her handkerchief. - -"I don't know," responded Moore. "I should be there now." - -"Should you, Tom? What is keeping you, then?" - -Simple child! She, of course, had not the slightest suspicion that she -was in any way concerned in the poet's prolonged tarrying at Dalky. -Innocence is a truly beautiful thing, and that it is not more popular is -much to be regretted. - -"Keeping me?" repeated Moore. "Nothing but my heart, mavourneen." - -"Indeed? Who has it in their possession, if it is no longer in yours?" - -"You, Bessie," answered Moore, earnestly. "And pray do not return it. -After being in your keeping, no other woman would satisfy it, and I 'd -have no peace at all. Ah, alanna, when I left Dublin, weary and -discouraged at my failure to sell my poetry, and came to this quiet -country place in search of rest, it is little I dreamed I would run -across such a girl as you. You have put new thoughts in my head, -Bessie. My soul is not the same at all." - -Touched by the tenderness of his tone, the girl grew sober in her turn. - -"And you _must_ go, Tom?" she asked, regretfully. - -"I have my fortune to make, Bessie. Why, mavourneen, I have n't a penny -of my own." - -"And no pennies of anybody else's?" - -Moore smiled broadly. - -"How could I have?" said he. "I never went to school here. I don't -know the system like your pupils." - -Bessie laughed and looked so tempting in her mirth that Moore made -another attempt to kiss her, with no better success than had rewarded -his previous efforts. - -"Poverty is a common complaint," she observed, shaking her head at the -disappointed youth. - -"I had rather be poor than a miser," said Moore, sitting down on a -stool. - -"A miser? Am I one?" - -"Yes, with your kisses. Faith, they are spoiling to be picked." - -"I am the best judge of when and by whom they shall be picked, good -sir," replied Bessie, pensively nibbling on the end of a brown curl. - -"It is hard to be poor, Bessie," sighed Moore, resting his feet on a -rung of the stool, his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hand, -this being a favorite attitude of the poet's. - -"If you would marry Winnie Farrell you would have slews of money," -suggested Bessie, leaning on the back of the bench with affected -carelessness of demeanor, but there was a gleam in her eye, hidden -'neath drooping lids and long lashes, that seemed indicative of no -little interest in the forthcoming answer. - -Moore looked inquiringly at his fair companion. - -"Winnie Farrell is it?" he said, laughing at the idea. "Not for me, -Bessie. I have picked out another lassie." - -"But I 'm told you often call at Squire Farrell's," persisted the girl, -not wholly reassured. - -"To be sure I do, Bessie," replied Moore frankly. "And no wonder. The -Farrells are pleasant people. Winnie is nice to chat with, and I like -her brother. He is the cleverest lad in the country." - -Bessie shook her head doubtfully, and a sunbeam that, slanting in the -window, had comfortably nested in a coil of her bonny brown hair was -rudely thrown forth to find no better resting-place than the floor, for -the girl moved nearer to Moore as she spoke. - -"He is too clever for his own good, I fear," she said. "The fewer -dealings you have with Terence the better it will be for you." - -Before Moore could reply the door opened, and Patsy, Micky, and Willy -Donohue filed in, each clutching an arithmetic. - -"Look, Tom," said Bessie, pointing out the new-comers. - -Moore regarded the little party with wide-open eyes. - -"Egad, Bessie," said he, "it's a committee. What do you lads want now?" - -"Please, sir," said Patsy, acting as spokesman, "these two boys wants -help wid their lessons. They each has a sum, sir, and their answer is -sixpence apiece." - -"Come here, then," said Moore, sweetly, "and I 'll hand it to you." - -The boys, made confident by past successes, came forward without -hesitation as their victim put both hands in his pockets. - -"It is a long worm that has no turning," remarked Moore, seizing Patsy -by the collar with one hand, while with the other he picked up the ruler -from the desk. "This is where Thomas Moore worms--I mean turns. There -is sixpence where you won't lose it, my lad." - -The dust flew from Patsy's breeches, while from his mouth proceeded -vigorous objections to his present treatment. - -"Now run, you divil, or I will repeat the dose," cried Moore, throwing -the ruler at Micky's bare shins as that youthful conspirator sought -safety in headlong flight with Willy before him and Patsy close at his -heels. A moment later they appeared outside the window and retaliated -with derisive gestures for their recent defeat until Moore ran towards -the door as though about to give chase, when the lads, squealing with -fright, fled across the fields, disappearing in the distant trees. - -"How do you like teaching?" asked Bessie, mischievously, as Moore -returned. - -"Fine," he said. "Fine, and it's I that pays the fines, little limbs of -Satan." - -"Remember, you are speaking of my pupils, Mr. Moore," she said -threateningly. - -"All right," said Moore, "little limbs of Bessie Dyke!" - -"Tom!" - -"I did n't mean it that way, my dear. Far be it from me to make such -indelicate remarks intentionally." - -"I am not so sure," said Bessie, suspiciously. - -"I did n't think what I was saying, Bessie." - -"Do you always say what you think?" - -"Do you want me to be arrested?" demanded Moore. "I conceal my thoughts -almost as often as you do, mavourneen." - -"You can omit that 'Mavourneen,'" said Bessie, refusing to be so soon -cajoled into good humor. "I 'm not to be blarneyed so easily." - -"Oh," said Moore, "it's a terrible thing to be haunted by a girl's -face." - -"Is it?" asked Bessie, mollified. - -"I should think so," responded Moore. "I can't work for thinking of -one." - -"Is her name 'Laziness'?" - -"You 'll get no more information on the subject from me. Do you know, -Bessie, I have half made up my mind not to go back to Dublin at all?" - -"No? Where else would you go, Tom?" - -"To London," announced Moore, dramatically. "To London, Bessie, and once -there I 'll take Dame Fortune by the throat and strangle the hussy till -she gives me what I deserve." - -"Ah," cried Bessie, "that would be splendid, Tom!" - -"I 'd go to-morrow only I dare n't leave you, darlin', for fear you will -be stolen from me in my absence." - -"What do you mean?" asked Bessie, looking at him in surprise. - -"As though you did not know, Bessie!" answered Moore, rising to his -feet. "I mean this Sir Percival Lovelace, who is seen so often in your -company of late. Lord Brooking's friend. Don't I know what he is after -when I see a great gentleman like him, the odor of Court still in his -ruffles, walking and talking with a pretty bit of a school-teacher like -you?" - -Bessie flushed a little, but her tone was sad instead of angry when she -answered: - -"Tom, have you no faith in me?" - -"Well, it is precious little I have in Sir Percival," he replied, -turning away angrily, "and the less you have the better it will be for -you." - -Bessie's eyes twinkled maliciously. Here was her chance to pay her -lover back for some of the plaguements he had practised upon her. - -"You don't like Sir Percival?" said she, calmly. - -"Not I," said Moore. "I see through his fine manners easy enough." - -"He says I would make a good actress," continued Bessie, as though -flattered by the idea. - -Moore bit his lip in anger, but spoke calmly enough when he answered: - -"He did n't say you would make a good wife?" - -It was Bessie's turn to lose her temper. - -"Oh, Tom," she snapped crossly. "I shall be angry." - -Moore sat down on the bench previously ornamented by Patsy's youthful -form. - -"I'd rather you would be angry than sorry," he said, moodily. - -There was a short silence. For a moment Bessie hesitated between anger -and apology, then her real regard for Moore triumphed and she decided -not to torment him further. - -"Tom," she said softly. - -Moore showed no sign of having heard her. - -"Tom," she said as sweetly as a deliciously modulated voice could sound -the word. - -Still no reply. She stepped lightly towards him. - -"Tom, dear, don't be sulky," she said, laying one hand upon his sturdy -shoulder. "Why I care more for your little finger than I ever could for -Sir Percival." - -"Will you tell him so?" asked Moore, taking her hand as he rose. - -This was asking entirely too much and Bessie raised her head very -haughtily, indignant that her condescension in making so confidential a -statement had led to such an extravagant request. - -"Indeed, I will not," she declared, defiantly, returning as she spoke to -her chair behind the desk at the front of the schoolroom. Moore -followed her and they stood face to face, the desk between them. - -"Very well," he said determinedly, "if you won't, I will." - -"If you dare, Thomas Moore," cried Bessie, shaking one pink forefinger -at the poet, admonishingly. "_If you dare!_" - -"Faith, I dare do anything," he replied, and, seizing her hand, plunged -the lifted finger up to the second joint in the contents of the -inkstand, thus effectually ending the argument. - -"Oh!" cried Bessie, holding her hand, so the jetty fluid would not fall -upon her gown or apron. "You horrid, horrid thing, see what you have -done!" - -Moore laughed heartily at her discomfiture, and in so doing recovered -his usual cheerful spirits. - -"Oh, the ink will wash off," he chuckled. "That is more than the mark -you have left on my heart will do, for that is indelible." - -Bessie stamped her tiny foot in her rage and made as though she would -wipe her hand on Moore's coat, which caused the triumphant young man to -seek sudden shelter behind the benches. - -"I can't wash it off, Tom Moore." - -[Illustration: "I can't wash it off, Tom Moore."] - -"Have you never been taught to perform your ablutions, Bessie?" - -"Stupid! My other hand is burned and water will make it smart." - -"I wonder if water would make me smart." - -"_I 'd_ like to," said the girl. - -"I 've always tried wine when I thought I needed intellectual -stimulation." - -"I should think you would be drinking all the time," said Bessie, -spitefully. - -"Not _all_ the time," corrected Moore. "Part of it I spend earning the -price. There, now, don't worry, I 'll scrub your little fist for you if -you will let me. Will you?" - -Bessie's anger cooled as rapidly as it had warmed. - -"If you will be very gentle, you may." - -"Trust me for that," said Moore, going to the bucket that stood in the -corner with a basin covering it. "It's empty, Bessie. There is not as -much water here as would make a foot-bath for a flea." - -"You can fetch it from the well," said Bessie. - -"Will you come with me?" - -"You can go alone, Tom Moore." - -"I can, but I don't want to, Bessie." - -"You would be almost there now if you had n't stopped to talk." - -"Won't you come, Bessie?" - -"I suppose I will have to do it to please you," said the girl, yielding -with a little sigh. - -"Won't it please you, too?" said Moore, stopping her. - -"But, Tom--" - -"Won't it?" he insisted. - -"Yes,--yes,--_yes_!" she replied, with increasing emphasis on each -reiteration. - -Moore let her pass, and she paused at the door, looking over her plump -shoulder. - -"What a child you are, Tom Moore!" - -"Child," he repeated. "Child? Maybe I am, Bessie, but when you are -called 'Mama' it won't be by me, though I think I 'll not be far off." - -"Oh!" she cried, and slammed the door. - - - - - _Chapter Six_ - - _TWO GENTLEMEN OF WEALTH AND BREEDING_ - - -It is doubtful if a search prosecuted through the entire extent of the -United Kingdoms over which the Prince of Wales ruled as Regent would -have brought forth a more debonair or contented individual than Sir -Percival Lovelace, gentleman, libertine, and chosen comrade of His Royal -Highness. In the eyes of this gallant, morals were a mark of ancient -barbarism that gentle breeding and a long line of ancestors should be -expected to remove or render forgotten. As these views coincided almost -exactly with those cherished by the First Gentleman of Europe, it is not -to be wondered that the Prince found in the baronet an agreeable and, -more than that, an amusing companion. But even London may pall upon one -and, not being hampered by the restrictions limiting the peregrinations -of royalty, which were often the cause for much princely profanity at -Carlton House, Sir Percival sought change and diversion in a jaunt -through Scotland and Wales, finally ending in a tour of Ireland, where, -much to his surprise, he stumbled upon certain persons destined to -furnish him with more or less food for thought for the next year or two. -His companion on his travels was none other than Lord Brooking, nephew -of Lord Moira, already known as one of England's most capable statesmen. -The young gentleman first mentioned was quite popular in the Regent's -set, but more widely known in the circles from whence the various arts -drew encouragement and patronage. But, in spite of his leanings toward -the more cultured pursuits scantily patronized by the profligate society -immediately surrounding the Regent, Lord Brooking was much more popular -with that noble gentleman than many whose daily and nightly labor was -the effort to curry favor with England's ruler. Lord Brooking was no -ordinary personage. There was small flavor of the roue in his -character, though it cannot be denied that, following the general -current of fashion, he had not hesitated to play his part in the masque -of dissipation offered as entertainment to the middle and lower classes -by the aristocracy whom they were expected to envy and admire. But in -his heart he felt only regret for his own participation in such unworthy -extravagance, and, in most instances, a profound contempt for those who -found diversion and contentment in such existence. There were two -conspicuous exceptions to his lordship's general condemnation. The -first was Richard Brinsley Sheridan, poet, dramatist, and statesman, now -in his decadence, who still sought and furnished entertainment in -society, a garrulous, drunken, and witty old gentleman, with a heart as -young and a thirst as dictatorial as when Fame first brought him -well-merited reward. The only enemies owned by this lightsome veteran -were those foolish enough to expect eventual settlement of bills or -loans that they were so unwise as to allow him to add to his long list -of personal indebtedness. It is almost unnecessary to mention that -disappointment was the subsequent conclusion of all such hopes of his -deluded creditors, for Mr. Sheridan was consistent in one thing to the -last--entire lack of financial responsibility. - -The other exception was Sir Percival, who was so gay, so generous, so -witty that Brooking, blinded by the glitter of a sparklingly brilliant -personality, neither saw nor felt the hideous moral imperfections that -this winning gentleman hid beneath his splendid exterior. The several -peccadilloes really beyond all extenuation or apology of which the -baronet had been guilty had never been brought to the attention of his -younger friend and so at the time of which this tale is a chronicle it -would have been difficult to find two closer cronies than this pair of -young noblemen, who were strolling leisurely in the direction of the -schoolhouse. - -Sir Percival looked at Brooking quizzically. - -"You do not approve, lad," he said with a little laugh. "You 're too -good a fellow, I am afraid." - -"I wish I could be as timid about you," replied Brooking, pleasantly. - -"Can't you, dear boy? No? Pray, why not?" - -"Do you really wish to know?" asked Brooking, hesitating a little. - -Sir Percival treated himself daintily to a pinch of snuff and brushed -the dust from his coat with an embroidered handkerchief. - -"I think you wish to tell me," he answered, smiling. "It amounts to the -same thing between friends, doesn't it?" - -"I think we may as well understand each other now," said Brooking, in a -serious tone. - -"I quite agree with you," remarked Sir Percival, inwardly wondering what -this introduction would lead to. - -"I have been postponing this conversation from day to day for the last -week." - -"Indeed? And why?" - -"It is rather a delicate subject." - -"I would prefer one that is indelicate, if it is not inconvenient," -suggested Sir Percival. - -"For once in your life, Lovelace, be serious." - -"Even _that_ I will not deny you. Proceed." - -"We have been pals since boyhood. As little lads we blacked each -other's eyes." - -"We did," admitted Sir Percival, laughing gently, "and bled each other's -noses, too." - -"We licked the same stick of candy." - -"Gad, yes. My favorite was peppermint. I remember it as well as though -it were but yesterday." - -"We grew up to manhood together," continued Brooking, half sadly. "A -pretty couple of rakes we were, too." - -"We _are_ still, dear lad," corrected Sir Percival. "Two very pretty -little libertines, upon my honor." - -"In London, where we were well known as an unworthy couple, I have no -fault to find with you." - -"No?" said the baronet in surprise. "To tell the truth, that statement -causes me some little astonishment." - -"We sailed under our true colors there--" - -"But," interrupted Sir Percival, "the same flag is still flying, old -man." - -"Ah," said his lordship, "while that is true, it must be remembered that -they do not understand its meaning down here. I haven't much to brag of -in the way of morals, more is the pity, but no woman has ever wept of -shame from my wrong doing, nor will a woman ever do so." - -Sir Percival gave his companion a smile of interrogation. - -"And I?" he asked. - -"I am not so sure about you," responded Lord Brooking, deliberately, -"but in London, where you are known, the folly of a girl in trusting you -would be so inexcusable that indiscretion upon your part might be -readily condoned; but here in this peaceful, simple old town it is very -different." - -"Come to the point, Brooking. You are almost tiresomely wordy to-day." - -"It amounts to this, Percy. I have done some things I 'm heartily -ashamed of and I intend in the future to be a better fellow." - -"Very commendable, indeed," observed the baronet, a trifle bored, "Does -my approval encourage you?" - -"What do you intend to do with Bessie Dyke?" demanded the younger man, -halting as he spoke. - -Sir Percival paused and pensively cut down a weed or two with his -walking stick. - -"Hum," he said slowly. "As I thought." - -"Do you mean honestly by the girl?" - -"Your last words are quite correct," said the baronet, coolly. "Buy the -girl--I mean to do that, Brooking." - -"You frankly avow that is your object?" began Brooking, genuinely -shocked. - -"Tut--tut!" interrupted his companion, good humoredly. "She is a pretty -creature, is n't she? Clever, too, in her own innocent, foolish, little -way. For her smiles and bread-and-buttery love--a welcome change, by the -way, from the London brand of petulant passion--I 'll give her a -carriage, horses, fine dresses, a necklace or two, and lastly my own -charming self for--er--for probably as long a time as several months." - -"And _then_, what will become of her?" - -"Really, I don't know," answered Sir Percival. "Can't imagine, and I -shan't bore myself by wondering. Perhaps she will marry some clodhopper -like this Tom Moore. No doubt he would think her doubly valuable when I -have finished with her." - -"You are not in earnest," stammered Brooking, incredulously. - -"Quite in earnest, my dear old chap. Ah, you think that I will not -succeed? Pshaw, Brooking! Not here, perhaps, in this deliciously moral -atmosphere, but elsewhere, yes. And I intend that she shall be -elsewhere. Brooking, I shall fetch this rural beauty to London." - -"She will not go," asserted his lordship. - -"No?" returned the baronet. "Who, think you, will prevent her?" - -"Tom Moore, or I am much mistaken," answered Brooking, confidently. - -"Tut!" said Sir Percival, incredulously. "You do not give my tact -sufficient consideration. I 'll wager the objections Mr. Moore may see -fit to make will prove of no avail in influencing the lady. In fact, if -I do say it myself, my plans are clever enough to discount the efforts -of a dozen bogtrotters, let alone one and he a rhymester. To begin with -I have read and gone in raptures over old Robin Dyke's verses. Egad, I -have pronounced them beautiful, and really they are not half bad, -Brooking. If they were not so crammed with anarchy they would sell in -London. The old boy is a socialist, you know. Yes, i' faith, he bastes -the Prince and Castlereagh soundly," and this ardent royalist chuckled -gleefully at the memory. - -"Then you have broached the subject to Mr. Dyke?" asked Lord Brooking, -as they continued their stroll in the direction of the schoolhouse. Sir -Percival nodded his head. - -"Yes, Brooking, the old scribbler is half persuaded already. I have -promised him my support and patronage in London if he comes." - -"And the girl?" - -"I am tempting Bessie with the promise of a place at Old Drury, where, -as you know, I am not without influence. Stab me! with her eyes and -rosy red cheeks she would need neither paint nor powder to make her an -ornament to the boards. Like most clever women, she has ambitions of a -histrionic nature. She will come to London, Brooking, and once -there!--once there--she is mine, dear lad, she is mine." - -Brooking's anger and disgust refused to be longer pent up beneath his -calm, almost indifferent, demeanor. - -"What a low scoundrel you are!" he ejaculated, much to Sir Percival's -surprise. The baronet for a moment regarded him quizzically, as though -suspicious that this uncomplimentary description of his character was -intended as a humorous remark, but seeing severity in his lordship's -face, he smiled pleasantly and refused to take offence. - -"Don't be so serious, old cock," he drawled. "Earnestness is so -tiresome. Ah, life at its best bores me. My friends bore me. _Even -you_, Brooking, bore me at times. Toss me, if I know anything that does -not bore me sooner or later." - -"Sir Percival," said the younger gentleman, "if I whispered one half -that you have said to me in Tom Moore's ear he would choke the life out -of you and sink your body in the pond." - -"And spoil the drinking water? Well, such treatment as you describe -would not bore me at all events. 'T would be exciting, even unpleasant, -'t is true, but interesting in the extreme, and anything which is not -tedious is worthy of all consideration." - -Brooking laughed, amused in spite of his disapproval. - -"You are incorrigible," he said. - -"Permit me to explain my view of the matter," continued Sir Percival, -amiably. - -"By all means, Percy." - -"This piquant country damsel pleases me rarely. She is a sweet little -thing whose view of life is about as comprehensive as that of a day-old -kitten. She shall be educated, Brooking, and I will serve as tutor. You -saw me stoop and pluck a primrose from beside the road as we walked this -way, did you not? Here it is in my button-hole. This girl is a -primrose, Brooking; I 'll wear her till she is faded,--then, like this -wilted blossom, I will toss her aside. And why? Because there are other -primroses as fair and sweet, unplucked and unfaded, that grow beside my -path farther on, and I like fresh flowers and new faces." - -This very pretty gentleman helped himself to snuff, and then beamed -benevolently upon his companion. Brooking saw the baronet was in sober -earnest in spite of his pleasant manner and humorous tone. A new -comprehension of his friend's real character dawned upon his mind, and -for the first time in the long years of their acquaintance and -fellowship he was able to strip from the libertine the exterior of the -winning and courtly gentleman that had hitherto served to conceal his -imperfections. In that one moment vanished the affection and admiration -the younger man had felt for the elder, leaving only the colder and less -exacting friendship existing between men of the same circle in society, -who find much to interest and amuse in each other's company, but nothing -to love or respect. - -There was a slight pause before his lordship spoke, but when he did so -there was a new ring to his voice. - -"If you harm this little girl, I 'll never take your hand in mine again. -You hear, Percy? Do as you have said, and we are strangers forever." - -"And why?" demanded his companion. - -"Because I 'll not own friendship with so filthy a rogue as you will -have proved yourself to be." - -"Hum!" murmured Sir Percival, thoughtfully. "Then you will probably -constitute yourself her protector?" - -"If necessary, yes." - -"And will no doubt seek to balk me by telling her what a villain you -think me, lad?" - -"You know better than that," replied Brooking, a reproachful tone -perceptible in his voice. - -"So I do," assented the baronet. "What do you say to making it a game? -One hundred guineas I win." - -The instinct of the gamester, without which no buck of the times was -considered completely a gentleman in society's interpretation of the -word, stirred in the blood of his lordship. - -"Done," said he. - -"Good lad," commented Sir Percival. "My cards are wealth and fame, -London and Drury Lane." - -"Mine are the girl's honesty and Tom Moore." - -"Tom Moore?" repeated the other, inquiringly. - -"Yes," answered Brooking, "for if Bessie Dyke does go to London with you -as her patron, I 'll bring Tom Moore there and be _his_." - -"Just as you like," said Sir Percival. - -Reaching the door of the schoolhouse a moment later, the two bloods -knocked vigorously and stood on the stone threshold, waiting patiently -for a response from the interior. As this was not forthcoming, after -another moment's delay, Sir Percival opened the door and led the way -into the schoolroom. - - - - - _Chapter Seven_ - - _TOM MOORE OBLIGES A FRIEND AND GETS IN TROUBLE_ - - -"Can it be Mistress Bessie has departed for the day?" said Sir Percival, -surveying the deserted room with no little disappointment. - -"I think not," replied his lordship, imitating his companion's look of -investigation. "As I thought, Sir Percival! There is her hat." - -As he spoke, Brooking pointed to a dainty affair composed of some -complicated combination of white straw and blue ribbons, from which -peered inquisitively forth a bunch of pink posies. This charming -creation hung pendant by the strings from a nail in the wall behind the -desk, making plain that the school-mistress intended to return. - -"True, Brooking," said Sir Percival, and taking it down he pressed one -of the ribbons to his lips. "Almost as sweet and pretty as its owner. -Egad, how tuned in harmony with her own charm are the belongings of a -dainty and tasteful woman. Like the scientists of the Museum who from a -bone construct a skeleton, so could I from this little hat draw the -portrait of the lady whom it might become." - -"You are dangerously near sentimentality," said Brooking, as though -warning the baronet of peril unperceived. - -Sir Percival laughed. - -"I sometimes forget that I am no longer a lad of two-and-twenty, though -Heaven knows I lack not reminders. Impossible as it seems, it is -nevertheless true that I found a gray hair this morning. A silver -messenger from approaching Age. I plucked the rascally thing out and -breathed more freely when I was rid of it." - -A knock sounded on the door by which the pair had entered, and Sir -Percival, peeking slyly through a convenient window, gave an exclamation -of dismay. - -"Pluck me, Brooking, if it is not old Robin Dyke himself. Devil take -the old bore!" - -Brooking pointed to the other exit. - -"Perhaps we can escape this way." - -Sir Percival, followed by his lordship, tiptoed across the room, but -before they reached the other doorway, Mr. Dyke, weary of waiting, -entered briskly, and their plan of evasion was abandoned as hastily as -it had been adopted. - -"Why, if it is not Mr. Dyke," cried Sir Percival, cheerily, quite as -though he were overjoyed at the meeting. "Good-day to you, sir. I hope -it finds you sound in health." - -Dyke flushed with pleasure at the heartiness of the great gentleman's -greeting. He was a pleasant-faced old man, simple and good-hearted, too -prone to trust in the honor of others, but erring only by giving them -credit for benevolence and honesty equal to his own. He was quite a -portly old person, with a face strongly lined in spite of its placid -expression. His hair, worn rather long as became a poet, was a wavy, -shimmery gray, and he walked with a rambling sort of gait that suggested -vaguely a compromise between a stride and a toddle. Sir Percival's -quick eye caught sight of a suggestive roll of manuscript sticking out -of the new-comer's pocket. - -"Ah!" exclaimed the baronet, tapping the paper with his cane. "I see a -paper peeking from your coat, Mr. Dyke. Another poem, I 'll be bound. -Come now, sir, out with it. I swear, we _will_ hear it, eh, Brooking?" - -"I 'm _afraid_ we will," murmured his lordship beneath his breath, but -he bowed in pleasant assent in reply to the old gentleman's inquiring -look. - -"What?" continued Sir Percival. "Too modest, eh? Then I will read it -myself," and, with a gesture gracefully apologetic for the liberty, he -drew the roll from Dyke's pocket. - -"Really, Sir Percival," stammered the old man, in pleased embarrassment. -"My poor effort--" - -"Your _poor_ effort," repeated Sir Percival, scanning the first page -through his eyeglass, as he spoke. "If this be his poor effort, -Brooking, what would his best be?" - -"God knows!" murmured Brooking to himself, "I hate to think of it." - -Sir Percival's quick ear caught his lordship's muttered remark, so, as -the flustered poet crossed to the window in hope of obtaining a glimpse -of the absent schoolmistress, the baronet turned to Brooking with a -laugh. - -"Perhaps God knows," he whispered, "or perhaps it is better known in the -_other_ place. Look at it, Brooking." - -"Must I?" replied the younger man, reluctantly. - -"Of course you must," asserted Sir Percival. Then more loudly he -continued: - -"Genius in every line, and more between them. My dear Dyke, we must have -you in England." - -"You think so, Sir Percival?" said the old gentleman, greatly flattered. - -"I am sure of it," answered the other as though convinced, returning the -poem to its author. "But once you are there, no seditious political -versifying like this. Why, sir, the Prince would foam at the mouth if -he saw this. Love lyrics, sir, for the ladies. That must be your game, -dear man." - -Mr. Dyke hardly knew which to regard as the greater compliment, the -implication that he had but to exert himself to write poetry that would -be pleasing to the fair sex of London, or the assertion that the satire -of his latest production was sufficient to cause annoyance even to -Royalty itself. Still not quite decided in regard to the matter, he -blew his nose resoundingly and modestly replied: - -"I would restrain my opinions, since I cannot change them." - -Sir Percival winked wickedly at Brooking to draw the latter's attention -to his next remark. - -"Have you thought over my proposal, Mr. Dyke?" - -"I have given it much deliberation," answered that worthy, in a tone -that but ill concealed the delight occasioned him by the mere suggestion -of such an idea. - -"Well, Mr. Dyke?" - -"I feel most favorably inclined, I must confess," replied the old -gentleman. - -"Ah!" said Sir Percival, in an undertone to Lord Brooking, "d' ye hear -that, lad? He must confess." - -"I wish you had to, Percy. It would save me trouble." - -"Then it is decided?" said Sir Percival, looking triumphantly at his -friend. - -Dyke hesitated. - -"No," he said, "not exactly decided. It now rests with my daughter. If -she agrees with me, I will be pleased to do as you have suggested." - -"Then Bessie shall say 'Yes,'" responded the baronet. - -Chancing to look out the window at this moment, Sir Percival caught a -glimpse of a familiar figure passing on a path running near the -schoolhouse. - -"What, what?" he laughed. "There goes young Farrell. Who is the -petticoat in tow?" - -"That is his sister Winnie," replied Mr. Dyke, peering through his -glasses. "A nice girl, Sir Percival, with a proper admiration for -literature." - -"Too dumpy, by far," responded that gentleman, surveying the lady with -anything but approval. "By the way, I 've something to say to Terence. -Brooking, while I run after them, you may tell Mr. Dyke your opinion of -his poetry." - -And hastening to the door, the baronet gave chase to the couple, already -at quite a distance. - -At this moment Farrell chanced to look around and, beholding the -approaching macaroni, halted his companion and stood waiting, his sister -feeling quite giddy with the thought of meeting so great a beau as Sir -Percival. - -"I 've a word or two to say that may interest you, Terence, if you can -spare me a moment," began the baronet. - -"My time is quite at your disposal, Sir Percival," replied Farrell. -"Permit me to present you to my sister." - -Sir Percival bowed with graceful formality. - -"La, Mistress Farrell," he sighed, prettily, "your father is indeed -fortunate. With such a son and such a daughter his old age should be -crowned with happiness and content." - -"Father finds much to criticise," said the girl. "I fear he takes no -such flattering view of his children as you insinuate he should." - -"Criticise?" repeated Sir Percival in a tone of astonishment. "What can -he wish for?" - -"Much, if one may judge from his complaints," answered Winnie, not a -little puffed up by the baronet's condescension and approval. "I 'll -not keep you from your business with my prattle, sir. Terence, I will -go on to Mrs. McCloud's and stop for you at the school-house on my way -back." - -"You are most amiable, Mistress Farrell," said Sir Percival, gratefully. - -The girl courtesied in what she hoped was a good imitation of the London -manner, and continued on her way, leaving the two gentlemen to stroll -toward the schoolhouse. - -"Well, Sir Percival," said Farrell knowingly, "what is afoot?" - -As he spoke he gave the baronet a searching look, which drew forth a -pleasant smile by way of answer. - -"You never lose time in getting to the point." - -"Except when it's a sword," replied Farrell. "Then I can be devilish -slow." - -Sir Percival's face wore a pensive look as he regarded his friend. - -"For a country squire you present a wonderfully fashionable appearance," -he remarked, his eye travelling approvingly from the bell-crowned beaver -on the youth's well-shaped head to the carefully tied stock and thence -to the immaculately polished boots which ornamented feet both small and -neatly turned. "Your costume would not be out of place on Pall Mall, -Terence." - -With characteristic cunning the courtier had detected young Farrell's -weak point. The youthful Irishman's fondest wish was that he might some -day be acknowledged as a beau in no less a place than London itself; a -city which dictated fashion to the rest of the kingdom, drawing its own -inspiration from the finicky fancy of George Brummell, now at the height -of his power as dictator of society. - -Farrell flushed with pleasure at Sir Percival's commendation. - -"I' faith," he answered, "even in Ireland we are not entirely lacking in -taste." - -"No, not entirely," observed the baronet. "And the cards, Terence? -Does Fortune smile upon you these days?" - -"Not so frequently as my pocket demands, sir. To tell the truth, I 've -played in most villainous luck this last week." - -"Then possibly you would regard the opportunity to earn one hundred -pounds with favoring eye?" - -"Would I? Try me, Sir Percival," answered Farrell eagerly. - -"Very well, Terence," replied the baronet, "but whether you accept or -refuse my proposition you bind yourself as an honorable man to repeat to -no one what I shall suggest?" - -"Of course," answered Farrell. "You may confide in me, Sir Percival." - -"I have work for that infernally clever brain of yours. One hundred -pounds if you will devise a scheme that parts Bessie Dyke from this Tom -Moore who annoys me." - -It cannot be said that Farrell was astonished at the words of Sir -Percival. Nevertheless, that such a great and clever man should -consider it advisable to obtain assistance in outwitting so -comparatively rustic an individual as Tom Moore, was, in the youth's -eyes, rather a damaging admission of weakness. At least so he regarded -it, for the moment not realizing that to a gentleman of large fortune it -was far more satisfactory to busy another's brain than to greatly exert -his own, even though the result of the latter might be more pleasing in -the end. - -"One hundred pounds," repeated Sir Percival, languidly. - -"But Tom Moore is my friend." - -"Ah!" said the baronet, "in that case one hundred and _one_ pounds." - -Farrell laughed a little. - -"Very well, Sir Percival," said he, "I will undertake to earn the sum -you mention. I must admit the airs and graces with which Moore sees fit -to conduct himself are extremely offensive to me. His manner is one of -extreme condescension, and more than once I have felt myself to be upon -the verge of resenting it." - -"Then," said the baronet, "it is agreed?" - -Farrell nodded pleasantly. - -"How will you do it?" - -"Easily, Sir Percival. You leave the affair to me and I 'll fix it so -Bessie Dyke will never look at Tom Moore again." - -"If you succeed, I 'll make it one hundred and fifty." - -"Ah," said Farrell, lifting the latch of the school-house door, "I like -dealing with you, Sir Percival." - -At almost the same moment Bessie Dyke entered at the opposite side. Sir -Percival bowed in his most courtly manner. - -"Here is the missing damsel at last," he said. - -Moore pushed the half-closed door open and stepped in, bucket in hand. - -"There is more to follow," he announced, setting his burden in an -out-of-the-way corner as he spoke. - -"More?" echoed Sir Percival, questioningly. - -"Yes, Tom Moore." - -"A villainous pun, upon my honor." - -"A pun upon _your_ honor might well be such," said Moore, coming -forward. - -Sir Percival allowed an expression of surprise to pass over his handsome -face. - -"Egad," he said, gently, as though in veiled wonderment. "Wit, and from -such a source." - -"A sauce of wit makes game more savory," returned Moore, not at all -irritated at the baronet's accent of superiority. "And I know your -game," he added in an undertone. - -"Indeed?" - -"In deed and in thought, too," answered Moore, cheerfully. "You will -not succeed, my good sir." - -"Will you prevent me, Mr. Moore?" - -"I fancy so, Sir Percival." - -The baronet raised his voice, so that the conversation, hitherto -inaudible to the others, who were clustered at the side of the room, -could be easily heard. He did this intending to overwhelm this youth, -whom he despised both as a rustic and as an Irishman, with the apt and -stinging wit that had made him famous even in London drawing-rooms -accustomed to the sparkling sallies and epigrams of Sheridan and Rogers. -He regarded the conversational defeat of Moore as an easy task, and -proceeded to attempt it with a confidence born of many hard-fought -victories won in the brilliantly flippant circle surrounding the Prince -of Wales, a society that could only be described as pyrotechnically -witty. - -"I understand that you write poetry, Mr. Moore." - -"But you would not understand the poetry I write." - -"But I might buy some of it. I am not over particular as to merit, you -see." - -"I am very particular, you see, to whom I sell." - -"Why?" demanded Sir Percival, taking snuff with a graceful flourish. - -"Because I write for the masses and classes, not for the asses," replied -Moore, as pleasantly as though paying a delicate compliment to the -nobleman. - -Sir Percival recognized that the first point had been scored by his -hitherto despised rival, and rallied gamely, as became a gentleman of -blood and breeding. - -"That last accounts for your unpopularity with your fellow-countrymen," -he suggested. - -"Oh, they are not the asses I alluded to, Sir Percival." - -"Perhaps you intended that for me, then?" - -"Does a fellow feeling make you wondrous kind?" asked Moore, innocently. - -"Hum. Rather clever, Moore," said Sir Percival, planning a particularly -nasty retort, which he was prevented from delivering by Bessie's -approach. - -"How is my little schoolmistress to-day?" he said, winningly, to the -girl. - -Moore, loath to relinquish his victory, decided to continue the battle -of wits, and thus brought about his undoing in the moment of his -triumph. - -"Your little schoolmistress?" he repeated. "Have you become a scholar, -Sir Percival?" - -"To be taught by Mistress Dyke, I would become anything." - -"Except honest," suggested Moore. - -"Sir!" exclaimed his rival, angrily. - -"Why, sir, if you are honest already, there is surely no need of -change." - -"He had you there, Percy," said Lord Brooking, joining the group. - -"On the contrary, Brooking, Mistress Dyke has me _here_," replied Sir -Percival, his anger cooled. - -"We all have our troubles," observed Moore, plaintively, "even Mistress -Dyke." - -This was the baronet's opportunity, and he made good use of it. - -"Egad," he drawled, "have you been reading your own poetry, Mr. Moore?" - -Bessie laughed merrily as Moore tasted the bitterness of defeat and -allowed himself to be led away to the organ by Lord Brooking. - -"A song, Mr. Moore. I 've heard such reports of your singing that I am -more than eager to listen to one of your ballads. Mr. Dyke and our -friend Farrell join me in the request." - -"But, my lord," objected Moore, casting an inquiring glance towards -where Sir Percival was talking glibly to the little schoolmistress, -"I--er--really I 'm not in voice to-day." - -"Nonsense!" said his lordship. "We will not be denied, Mr. Moore." - -"Then since I 'm not Saint Peter, I 'll have to yield. What shall it -be?" - -A short discussion followed at the organ, and when this had been settled -by Dyke and Farrell choosing "The Shamrock," Moore, calmly paying no -attention to such a detail as that, proceeded to sing his latest poem, -written only that morning in honor of Sir Percival. - -Nothing could have been more to the point, for at this very moment the -baronet was urging the girl to ratify her parent's decision in regard to -the proposed move to London, painting for her in vivid words what a -Successful career at Drury Lane Theatre would mean, at the same time -dwelling upon her father's opportunity for advancement as poet and -scholar. - - "Oh! weep for the hour, - When to Eveleen's bower - The Lord of the Valley with false vows came; - The moon hid her light - From the heavens that night, - And wept behind her clouds o'er the maiden's shame. - - "The clouds passed soon - From the chaste cold moon, - And heaven smiled again with her vestal flame; - But none will see the day - When the clouds shall pass away, - Which that dark hour left upon Eveleen's fame. - - "The white snow lay - On the narrow pathway - When the Lord of the Valley crost over the moor; - And many a deep print - On the white snow's tint - Showed the track of his footsteps to Eveleen's door. - - "The next sun's ray - Soon melted away - Every trace on the path where the false Lord came; - But there's a light above - Which alone can remove - That stain upon the snow of fair Eveleen's fame." - - -Moore's voice died away melodiously in the last plaintive note. - -"A very pretty song, Mr. Moore. It tells a beautiful story and points a -splendid moral," said Lord Brooking. - -"Yes, my lord," answered Moore, glancing toward Bessie. "It shows the -folly of a poor girl in believing aught told her by a nobleman. It is -as true nowadays as it was then." - -"Oh, Tom," said the girl, tremulously. "It is beautiful. Is it not, -Sir Percival?" - -"Oh, very, very," replied the baronet. "Extremely so. I congratulate -you, Mr. Moore." - -"Have you reason to do so, Sir Percival?" asked Moore. - -His question was answered immediately, for Bessie turned toward the -gentleman addressed. - -"I thank you, Sir Percival," she said, "but I fear London is not for -such as father and me." - -As Moore gave a sigh of relief and turned away, satisfied that he had -foiled the baronet in his attempt to entice Bessie from Ireland, Farrell -touched him on the arm and led him to one side. - -"Will you meet me here, Tom, in half an hour?" he asked. - -"Is it important, Terry?" demanded Moore, who intended to devote the -rest of the afternoon to courting Bessie. - -"It may mean money enough to start you in London." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the poet. "I 'll meet you then, for to London I -am bound to go, sooner or later." - -At this moment Lord Brooking, who had been chatting in a corner with Mr. -Dyke, came forward, followed by the old gentleman. - -"Sir Percival," said his lordship, a malicious twinkle in his eye, "Mr. -Dyke has invited us to try a little wine of his own manufacture. You -will be charmed, I know." - -"A rare variety of grape, Sir Percival," said Mr. Dyke, delightedly. -"In fact, I venture to assert that you have never tasted such a -vintage." - -"Very likely not, Mr. Dyke," replied Sir Percival, quite convinced that -such was the case, and not at all sure that he might not regard himself -as favored by fortune on that account. - -"You will honor me?" asked Mr. Dyke, eagerly. - -Sir Percival saw he could not refuse without wounding the pride of his -would-be host, and therefore yielded politely. - -"I shall be delighted, I am sure," he answered. Then, lowering his -voice, he murmured in Brooking's ear: - -"I owe you one, my lord." - -Brooking laughed and took the baronet's arm. - -"Come, then," said he, pointing to the door with his walking-stick. - -"Perhaps Mr. Dyke will read us another poem," said Sir Percival, -hopefully. - -"Heaven forbid!" whispered his lordship. - -"Could anything be more appropriate?" continued the baronet. "We drink -the wine pressed from our friend's own grapes, while we listen to the -poetry his muse has sipped from the fountain of the gods upon -Parnassus." - -"You should write poetry, Sir Percival," said Mr. Dyke, much flattered. - -"I 'll leave that to Mr. Moore," answered the baronet, advancing towards -Bessie. - -"There are several other things I wish you would leave to me," said the -poet. - -"No doubt," replied Sir Percival. "My arm, Mistress Dyke?" - -"I must decline that honor," said Bessie. "My duties require me to -remain here for a while longer." - -"I am sorry for that, Mistress Dyke. You will join us, Mr. Moore?" - -"I never drink, Sir Percival," replied Moore, endeavoring to look -virtuous without much success. - -"Indeed?" said the baronet. "You had better begin, sir. Then perhaps -you would write less poetry." - -Moore failed to find a suitable retort, and therefore mounted the little -platform on which stood the blackboard, as Mr. Dyke, Lord Brooking, and -Farrell moved towards the door. - -"Mistress Dyke," said Sir Percival, "if you can spare a thought this -afternoon, perhaps you will oblige me by reconsidering your decision in -regard to London?" - -"I have quite made up my mind, thank you," answered Bessie, dusting off -her desk with her apron. "Simple country folk would be out of place in -so great a city." - -"Brains and beauty are made welcome everywhere," answered the baronet. -"Moreover, it is a woman's privilege to change her mind." - -"Will you be long, my daughter?" asked Mr. Dyke, turning at the door. - -"Not very long, father," she answered, demurely. "The--the arithmetic is -very difficult for to-morrow, and I must be prepared for the lesson." - -Moore helped himself to a piece of chalk, and began figuring on the -blackboard. - -"What are you doing?" asked Sir Percival, eying the poet through his -glass. - -"I am preparing the arithmetic," replied Moore, marking a huge six upon -the board. Then turning he counted those present. "Six," said he. -"One--two--three--four." - -As he spoke he checked off all but Bessie and himself upon his fingers. - -"Four from six," he continued, doing the subtraction with the chalk, -"leaves two, Bessie and me. Good afternoon, gentlemen." - -Every one laughed but Sir Percival, who contented himself with a faint -smile. - -"Quite so," said he, "quite a joke. My time for laughing will come -later." - -"The later the better," said Moore. "He who laughs last laughs best. -Delay it as long as you can, and you will enjoy it the more." - -"No doubt, Mr. Moore. Good afternoon to you, Mistress Dyke. Sir, I 'm -your most obedient." - -"Good-day, Sir Percival," said Bessie, dropping a courtesy as the -baronet turned again at the door. Then, as his tall figure vanished from -the threshold, she faced her lover with a little sigh of relief. - -"Tom," she said reprovingly, "you must not speak as you do to Sir -Percival. For a little while I feared you would have a real quarrel." - -"Perhaps that would be the easiest way out of it, after all," said -Moore, belligerently. "I 'd ask nothing better than to get a chance at -him." - -"I can't have you fighting with every stranger that comes to Ireland, -Tom," said Bessie, assuming that slight air of proprietorship that is so -soothing to an eager lover, implying as it does a regard not only of the -present moment, but apparently keeping in sight possibilities of the -future. Moore felt this subtle influence and yielded to it gradually. - -"Thanks be to St. Patrick, they are gone at last," said he in a sulky -tone. "Now you can do your arithmetic." - -"Tom, you are cross," said Bessie, reproachfully. "This is what I get -for staying here to please you." - -"What was Sir Percival saying to you so confidentially just now?" - -"He was coaxing me to go to London." - -"I knew it," cried Moore, angrily. "I 'll do that gay lad an injury if -he keeps on." - -"Hush, Tom," said Bessie, reprovingly. - -"I 'll do something desperate to him," continued Moore, striding up and -down the room in his rage. - -"Tom," said the girl, in her most persuasive tone. "Tom!" - -"I 'll punish him terribly if he don't let you alone." - -Bessie seized him by the arm and compelled him to halt. - -"Tom dear," she asked, "what will you do?" - -"I--I--I 'll dedicate a volume of my poems to him, if he don't look -out," declared Moore, yielding to the girl's calming influence. - -"But I am not going to London," laughed Bessie, "so you 'll let him off -this time, won't you, Tom?" - -"You promise you will not go, Bessie?" asked Moore, earnestly, taking -her hands in his. - -"I promise that while you are as true and kind as you have been to-day, -I 'll not even think of it again,"' she answered, soberly. - -"True?" repeated Moore, tenderly. "Why, every thought of mine has been -faithful since first I met you. Kind? The devil himself could n't be -anything but sweet to you, I 'm sure." - -Bessie drew her hands away, satisfied that she had made sure of the -public peace continuing unfractured so far as her lover was concerned. - -"Now," she said, in pretty imitation of his previous cross speech, "now -you can do your arithmetic." - -"Can I?" answered Moore, laughing. "Then the first sum will be an -addition. One added to two. One kiss to two lips." - -"And the second?" asked Bessie, at a safe distance. - -"Subtraction. Two kisses from two lips." - -"That would leave nothing, Tom." - -"Nothing but a taste of heaven," replied he, hopefully approaching her. - -"A kiss is not right," objected Bessie, in her most moral accents. - -"Then give me one that is left," urged Moore. "I see you have plenty, -Bessie." - -She shook her head. - -"Time enough for that when you have been to London. You might see some -girl there whom you would much prefer, and I 'll not run the risk till I -know that it is n't so," she answered wisely. - -"Ah, Bessie, Bessie darling, why will you doubt me so? Oh, I love you, -dearest, I love you." - -"Sometimes," she answered in a softer tone, "sometimes I almost believe -you mean what you say. Ah, Tom, if I could only be sure!" - -An eager light came into Moore's fine eyes. - -"What can I do to make you sure?" he whispered, his voice vibrant with -love and tenderness. - -"I will tell you, Tom. Wait till time has proved your heart beyond all -doubting. We are both young, and the world is all before us. For you, -dearest Tom, it holds fame and fortune--" - -"Ah, Bessie," he interrupted, "do you think so?" - -"There will come a day," she answered, proudly, "when in all Ireland -there will be no name so boasted of, so loved and reverenced, as Thomas -Moore." - -"And yet if this be true, I 'd throw it all away gladly, if by so doing, -I 'd be sure of you," Moore answered, sincerity written on his face. -"Bessie my darlin', why won't you believe in me? Won't you love me, -Bessie? Can't you love me, Bessie, dear?" - -For a moment the girl hesitated. In her heart she yielded, but before -the words of surrender left her lips she rallied and remained outwardly -true to her resolve. Had Moore taken her in his arms and kissed her, -reading aright the soft glowing eyes bent on him with so loving a -glance, she would have faltered in her determination, but he did not -realize that the time had that second come when she would have -sacrificed to her love for him her preconceived and carefully cherished -idea of what was right and best for them both, and so he failed to take -advantage of the one opportunity to have his own way that capricious -fortune granted him. Had he been wiser, his whole future life might -have been changed. London might never have known the sweetest poet ever -brought forth by Ireland and the afterwards First Nightingale of -Fashion's drawing-room might have lived and died an obscure rhymer in -some country town. - -Like a knowing lass, Bessie, finding herself on the verge of a tear, -sought safety in the relaxing influence of a laugh, and extending an -ink-besmeared finger in reproach, demanded if Moore intended to make -good his promise to remove the stain. - -Moore chuckled and the tenseness of the situation was removed. - -"Faith," said he, abandoning his attempt to persuade Bessie from her way -of thinking, "I 'll wash your hands for you, for fear, if I don't, you -'ll wash your hands of me." - -Turning on his heel, Moore crossed to the corner where he had left his -bucket of water, and, picking it up, placed it beside the basin that lay -on the bench. - -"Come here, Bessie, and I 'll scrub you clean as a whistle," he -announced cheerfully. - -Bessie held her hand over the basin obediently, and Moore poured over it -the water from the pail. - -"Oh--h!" cried the schoolmistress. - -"What ails you, Bessie?" - -"My, but that water is cold." - -"True for you," replied Moore, rubbing her hand with a cake of soap he -found in the basin, "but you have so often thrown cold water on my heart -it is only fair I should pour some on your hand." - -"Oh, I see, Mr. Moore," replied Bessie, "and now that you have given me -so much soft soap, you think you will try hard soap for a change." - -Moore lathered her fingers vigorously. - -"You have guessed my secret. It is a lovely little hand you have, -Bessie, but your nails are too long, darlin'." - -"If you behave yourself, they won't bother you, Tom." - -"Each finger a lily with a rosebud for a tip," poetized Moore, presuming -to kiss the bouquet. Bessie snapped her finger, sending a shower of -tiny drops in the youth's face. - -"A water lily?" asked she. - -"Oh!" cried Moore. "Murder! Murder! You have put the soap in my eye," -and he forthwith proceeded to dance around in a manner more vigorous -than graceful. - -Bessie was conscience-stricken at the result of her joke. - -"What a shame, Tom. I am so sorry." - -"Oh--h!" exclaimed Moore, sitting down on the bench with his face in his -handkerchief. "Help! Thieves!" - -"Oh, Tom," said Bessie, full of regret, "does it hurt you dreadfully?" - -"It does that." - -"Oh, I am so sorry." - -"Thank you kindly." - -Kneeling down beside Moore, Bessie drew aside the handkerchief and -kissed him soundly on the eye thus brought into view. - -"Who did that?" demanded Moore, as though in doubt. - -"I did," answered Bessie, boldly. "Is it better?" - -"Yes," replied Moore, "but the other eye is full of soap. Cure that, -too, like a darlin', Bessie." - -"There," said the girl, decisively. "I don't believe it hurt you at -all. You have made a fool of me." - -Feeling himself detected, Moore abandoned his pretence of suffering. - -"Well," he said, with a broad smile, "I am a kiss to the good at all -events. Many thanks, Bessie." - -"Tom, I am very angry with you." - -"I don't believe it, Bessie. You ought to be complimented to see how -hard I am willing to work for a kiss." - -"I 'll not believe you again." - -"That is nothing new, Bessie, darlin'. You are a most unbelieving young -female at best." - -"There is some one at the door, Tom," said Bessie, her quick ear hearing -a foot on the doorstep. - -"Come in," said Moore, in answer to Farrell's knock, and that young -gentleman entered, carrying himself in so evident an imitation of Sir -Percival Lovelace that the poet roared outright. - -"What is the joke?" asked Farrell, not at all pleased at Moore's -laughter. - -"You are, Terry," replied the other. "Faith, it is too bad entirely -that we have n't a glass so you could see. My, but you are a macaroni, -Terence. Is Lovelace pleased with his pupil?" - -And, drawing his handkerchief from his pocket in emulation of Farrell's -manipulation of his, Moore proceeded to swagger up and down the -schoolhouse in so accurate an imitation of Farrell's recently adopted -manner of comporting himself that even Bessie laughed. - -Farrell grew red with anger, but, deciding this was not the time to -resent Moore's fun, apparently took the performance in good part. - -"You are in fine spirits, Tom," he observed, laying his hat on a -convenient stool. - -"Never better," replied Moore, jovially. "Can I do anything for you, -Terry, my boy?" - -"Have you forgotten our engagement?" - -"Faith, I had that, Terence." - -Then, turning to Bessie, Moore continued: - -"You see, alanna, how you drive everything but yourself out of my head?" - -"That is as it may be," remarked Bessie, sagely, taking her hat from the -nail in the wall supporting it. "I must be going. There is my -arithmetic, Tom. You can carry it for me." - -Moore took the book she held out to him. - -"I 'll not be long," he said, as though in excuse. "I promised to have a -bit of a confab with Terry. When that is over with, I 'll join you at -your house." - -Bessie nodded pleasantly and walked over to the door. - -"Well," she said, looking out as she opened it, "I shan't lack for an -escort. There is Sir Percival now." - -"Wait a minute," said Moore, hastening towards her, but she bid him -good-bye, laughingly, and shut the door behind her as she stepped out. - -Moore, ill pleased, returned to Farrell. - -"Did you hear that?" he demanded. - -Farrell admitted that he had, and flicked an imaginary speck of dirt -from his ruffle. - -"You have her arithmetic to comfort you," he suggested. - -"It's little comfort I ever get out of such books," said Moore, laying -the volume down on Bessie's desk. "Now tell me what ails you, Terence?" - -"If I do," said Farrell, cautiously, "you 'll never repeat it to a -soul?" - -"Shall I cross my heart, lad?" - -Farrell shook his head gravely. - -"I'll leave that for Mistress Dyke to attend to," he answered. - -"Troth," said Moore, smiling, "she made it all criss-cross long ago. -But go on, Terry. Unbosom yourself." - -"It's this, Tom. My sister Winnie is secretly engaged to Captain -Arbuckle of the Ninth Dragoons." - -"Engaged to an Englishman!" ejaculated Moore, as though horrified. "And -secretly. That adds insult to injury." - -"Aye, secretly," repeated Farrell, dolefully. - -"_That's_ how you came to know, doubtless," remarked Moore. "Oh, it is -awful, Terence, but cheer up, lad. _You_ won't have to be Arbuckle's -wife. Let that comfort you, Terry." - -"That is not all, Tom. I am poorer than you are, and I have a debt of -honor of fifty pounds due to-morrow." - -"Whew!" ejaculated Moore, in astonishment. "Well, whose fault is that?" - -"Yours, Tom," replied Farrell, boldly. - -"Mine? How the devil can that be?" asked Moore, leaning against the -desk for comfort and support. - -"It is very simple. I thought you were sweet on Winnie." - -"Me? Never!" cried Moore. "Not for a fraction of a minute. Not that -Winnie is n't a dear girl, for none knows that she is such better than -I, but we would never do for a couple." - -"Unfortunately I thought otherwise," responded Farrell. "That is the -trouble." - -"You interest me very much," said the poet, helping himself to a seat on -the desk. "Go on with your tale of woe." - -"I was so sure of it," continued Farrell, "that I bet Lieutenant -Cholmondely you would propose to her before the first of the month." - -"A nice performance," commented Moore, swinging his feet. "Then what?" - -"Arbuckle heard me, and, like a sneak, went off quietly and asked Winnie -the next day." - -"And was accepted? Serves him right, Terry." - -"But the bet stands," persisted Farrell, sorrowfully. "And to-morrow is -the first of the month. I have n't a penny to pay Cholmondely." - -"It is too bad, Terry," replied Moore, sympathetically, "but you should -never have made such a bet. It shows lack of respect for Winnie. At -least some people would think so, though I am sure you never meant to -convey any such impression." - -"I thought you might help me," said Farrell, disconsolately. "Can't -you, Tom?" - -"I have n't quarter the money, Terry." - -"But you are wanting to go to London, are n't you? Remember you are n't -supposed to know Winnie is promised." - -"True." - -"Then, why can't you ask her and be refused? Cholmondely would pay me -the money, and there would be fifty pounds to divide between us, for I -'ll give you half if you help me out of the scrape." - -Moore frowned. - -"That would n't be honest, Terry," he said severely. - -"Was it fair for Arbuckle to propose before the first, knowing, as he -did, that I had till then to win?" demanded Farrell, in an injured tone. - -"No," said Moore, "it was n't, though, of course, if he had waited a -thousand years, I would n't have proposed in sober earnest." - -"But you'll do it in fun?" - -"She is already engaged?" - -"She is crazy over the captain," said Farrell, enthusiastically. - -"Then she would be sure to refuse me." - -"She would, and, Tom, you 'll have saved my honor," said Farrell, -pleadingly. - -"It is a shame for Cholmondely to get your money and Arbuckle your -sister. I 'll do it to oblige you, Terry," said Moore, "but I want none -of your winnings. What I do is to help you out of a bad scrape, for -friendship's sake, my lad." - -"How can I thank you, Tom?" said Farrell, inwardly exultant, but to all -appearance almost overcome at his friend's willingness to come to the -rescue. - -"By being more careful in the future about your betting," said Moore, -kindly. As he spoke he drew nearer the window and caught a glimpse of -Mistress Farrell approaching. - -"By the powers, here comes Winnie now," he exclaimed. - -"True for you, Tom, and headed this way." - -"Now you get out of here, Terry, and we will have my rejection over with -at once. I 'll be through in a jiffy." - -"Don't be too precipitate or she will suspect something," advised -Farrell. - -"Leave it to me," said Moore. "You stand just outside the door there -and you can listen to it all. Oh, it will be fine, Terry." - -"Say, 'Will you have me?' Tom," said Terence, going to the door opposite -to the one which his sister was now approaching. - -"Don't try to teach me," said Moore. "It's myself that's to do this -proposing, and I need no instruction. All you have to do is to listen. -Don't go away now." - -"Not I," said Terence. "I won't be easy till it's over," and, laughing -under his breath, he shut the door. - -Truly fortune favored him this day, for coming up the hill was Bessie, -not more than a moment or two behind Winnie Farrell, who by this time -had entered the school. - -"Good-day, to you, Winnie," said Moore, politely. "Sure, it is blooming -you are this afternoon. Like a whole bouquet of blossoms, let alone a -single flower." - -Winnie looked pleased at the compliment and smiled upon its bestower. - -"How gallant you are to-day," she said in a flattered tone. - -"Oh, I _said_ it this day, but I _think_ it all the week," replied -Moore, placing a stool for the lady. - -"Where is Terence?" she asked, seating herself. "He promised to wait for -me here." - -"I expect him back in a little while," replied Moore, casting a furtive -glance in the direction of the door behind which he believed his friend -to be concealed. "You can wait for him, Winnie. I have n't seen much of -you lately." - -"You know the road that leads to Farrell's, Tom," said the girl with a -laugh. She was a plump little morsel with a soft voice, and a saucy -tip-tilted nose; a pleasant, generous-hearted little soul, decidedly -good to look upon. - -"I have not forgotten the road," said Moore, meaningly. - -"Then, why don't you come to see me?" - -"For fear that I would n't be as welcome as Captain Arbuckle," said -Moore, trying to look knowing. - -Winnie looked surprised. - -"Captain Arbuckle?" she said, wonderingly. "What do you mean?" - -"You know what I mean, Winnie." - -"No, I don't, Tom." - -"You do, too, you artless creature," said Moore, laughing. - -"What _are_ you driving at, Tom?" asked Winnie, genuinely puzzled. - -"At you, Winnie, dear," replied Moore, and then, conscious that his -courage was rapidly leaving him, he proceeded desperately with his -performance. - -"Winnie Farrell, I love you." - -"What?" cried the girl, rising from the stool. - -"I love you, Winnie. Say you won't marry me," said Moore, relieved that -he had finished. His satisfaction lasted only a moment for Winnie threw -her arms around his neck with a little, joyous cry. - -"Tom," she whispered, "I 'll be your wife gladly, for I 've loved you -for weeks." - -"What?" cried Moore. "Oh, Winnie, you are only joking? You don't mean -it, Winnie? You don't, do you?" - -Bessie gave a little sob. She had quietly opened the door in time to -hear Moore's declaration, and, thunderstruck, had stood there, -unperceived until now. - -Winnie, abashed at Bessie's look of scorn and hatred, did not linger. -The door closed behind her, and Moore, just beginning to realize his -predicament, stood facing his angered sweetheart. - -"Bessie," he said, chokingly. "Bessie, I can explain." - -"I do not wish you to explain," she answered, her voice all a-tremble. - -"Hear me, Bessie," he began, desperately, but she turned a deaf ear to -his words. - -"I 'll never believe you again, Tom Moore," she said, flinging from her -bosom the rose he had given her. "I am done with you." - -Then, turning, she closed the door in his face, and left him. - - - - - Book Two - - - - "_New hope may bloom,_ - _And days may come_ - _Of milder, calmer beam,_ -_But there's nothing half so sweet in life_ - _As Love's young dream:_ -_No, there's nothing half so sweet in life_ - _As Love's young dream._" - - - - _Chapter Eight_ - - _INTRODUCES MONTGOMERY JULIEN ETHELBERT SPINKS_ - - -In the attic of an old house in Holywell Street, London, a -frowsy-headed, freckled-faced youth was peering from the gabled window -that fronted on the busy thoroughfare below. This lad was conspicuous -for his lack of beauty. He had a round jolly face, a turned-up and -rather negatively developed nose, and eyes of a neutral shade that might -be described as gray or green with equal correctness. His mouth was -capable of stretching to a length almost awe-inspiring when first -beheld, but could be forgiven for this extravagance, because the teeth -thus exposed were white and regular. His chin was square and slightly -protruding, imparting a rather pugnacious expression to a face that in -other respects seemed to indicate that its owner was of a decidedly -good-humored disposition. He was stockily built, so thick-set, in fact, -that a quick glance would incline one to the belief that he was rather -plump than otherwise, but a closer examination would have revealed that -he owed his size to the possession of an unusual amount of bone and -muscle. This young gentleman rejoiced in the sobriquet of Buster, though -his real title was much more elegant, while lacking entirely in the -almost epigrammatic terseness of his nickname. At the present time he -was anxiously waiting for the approach of an old-clothesman who was -slowly making his way down the street, meanwhile inviting trade at the -top of his lungs. Buster and the old-clothesman were acquaintances of -long standing, though their relations were by no means of a friendly -nature, the eagerness with which the boy awaited the man's coming being -caused entirely by a desire to drop a paper bag full of water upon the -latter's head from the height of three stories, a proceeding which -Buster was sanguine would be productive of reason for unlimited -merriment. He had the bag, empty as yet, clutched tightly in one hand, -while the other was within easy reach of a cracked pitcher full of water -standing on the floor near the window. A disreputable-looking bulldog, -impartially divided as to color between brindle and dirty white, was -inspecting proceedings in a most interested manner from his seat on a -rickety stool in the nearest corner. - -Buster sighed with impatience and the dog yawned in sympathy. - -"Lord Castlereagh, your rudeness is honly hexceeded by your -himperliteness, the both of wich is hunsurpassed save by your bad -manners. You should put your bloomin' paw hup before that 'ole in your -phis'omy when you sees fit to hexhibit your inards." - -Lord Castlereagh cocked one dilapidated ear in token of attention and -wagged his apology for a tail vigorously. - -"You feels no remorse, eh?" demanded Buster, severely. - -"Woof!" remarked Lord Castlereagh, in extenuation. - -"You 're a sinner, that's wot you are," announced the boy, decisively, -"and Hi 'as grave fear that you 'll never git to the dog-star when you -are disceased." - -The bulldog seemed depressed at this prediction, and, as though resolved -to convince Buster of the injustice of his statement, leaped off the -stool and approached him with various contortions supposed to be -illustrative of regret and a desire to obtain restoration to a place in -the youth's approval. - -At this moment the old-clothesman paused beneath the window, and putting -his hand trumpet-wise to his mouth, shrilly declared his ability and -willingness to purchase whatever cast-off garments those dwelling in the -vicinity might desire to sell. Buster promptly filled the paper bag -with water from the pitcher, and, leaning out as far as he dared, -dropped it with precise aim on the head of the old-clothesman. It -landed fair and square upon the crown of the dilapidated beaver -ornamenting his head, and burst with a soft squash, drenching his -shoulders and scattering a spray all around him. - -The dealer uttered a stream of oaths, and, mopping his face with a -handkerchief of dubious hue, looked around for the author of this -apparently unprovoked attack. As the missile had come from above, the -fellow naturally looked upward in search of an enemy, but found nothing -more suspicious in view than the head of a bulldog which was thrust from -a window in dignified contemplation of the scene. Unfortunately the -old-clothesman was well acquainted with the forbidding countenance of -the dog, and promptly attributing his recent ducking to the usual -companion of the animal, proceeded to vigorously announce his doubts as -to the respectability of Buster's immediate ancestry and his subsequent -intentions when he should be so lucky as to encounter the aforesaid -youth. It is almost needless to say that these plans for the future -were scarcely of a nature to meet with the boy's approval, involving as -they did complete fistic annihilation. At once the head of Buster -appeared in the window, an expression of surprise lighting his round -face only to give way to one of gentle gratification when his eye fell -upon the irate peddler. - -"Did Hi 'ear some one mentioning of my name?" he demanded pleasantly. -"Oh, 'ow do you do, Mr. Bekowsky? His your 'ealth bloomin'?" - -"I 'll bloom you, you imperent little villain," responded Bekowsky, -threateningly, shaking his fist in his anger. - -"Wot's that, dear sir?" inquired Buster, in a polite tone. "You seems -hexcited, Mr. Bekowsky. Hits very dangersome to get so over'eated, hand -the summer his 'ardly went yet." - -"I 'll overheat you if I lays my hands on you," responded the -old-clothesman. - -"Then Hi 'll 'ave to be a cooling of you fer protection," announced -Buster, cheerfully, and without the slightest warning he emptied the -contents of the pitcher he had been concealing behind him over the -enraged Bekowsky, drenching him thoroughly. - -"Cool happlications is to be recommended when feverish," he remarked, -carefully lowering the pitcher to the floor of the room without -withdrawing his head from the window, for, like all wise generals, he -considered it unsafe to lose sight of the enemy even for a moment while -the rear was unprotected. - -"You murdering little devil, I 'll pay you for this," yelled the -peddler. - -"Hat the usual rates, hor special price?" asked Buster, looking -interested. - -A crowd began to gather, but this did not interfere with the boy's -pleasure in the slightest degree. - -"It's that little rat again," said a red-faced, bull-headed cobbler. -"He 's the pest of the neighborhood." - -"You houghtent to let your disapintment carry you so far, Mr. Smirk," -said Buster, reprovingly. "'Cause your shoes don't just suit my -cultivated taste in the way of feet, it don't follow nobody helse 'll -buy 'em. They 're doosed poor stuff, o' course, but no doubt there is -some foolish enough to wear 'em." - -The cobbler cursed him enthusiastically, and, encouraged by this -support, the bespattered Bekowsky borrowed a rattan of a bystander, and -announced his intention of favoring Buster with a call, for the purpose -of inflicting a castigation which he described as much needed. - -"Well, well!" exclaimed the lad, who was to be thus favored. "Ham I to -be so honored? Why did n't you let hit be known before, so Hi could -pervide refreshments suitable for such a guest?" - -"I 'll be up there in a minute," answered Bekowsky, flourishing his -stick. - -"Hi can 'ardly wait so long. Har you a-going to bring your missus?" -inquired Buster, quite unintimidated. "Hi understands that common -report says she is the best fighter in the family. Did she lick you -last night, Hikey?" - -This last was too much to be endured, so with another volley of oaths, -the infuriated peddler took a firm grip on the rattan and entered the -hall, the door of which stood invitingly open. The rabble assembled in -front of the house gave a cheer and waited eagerly for developments. -Meanwhile Buster continued to survey the crowd below with a critical -glance, quite oblivious to the danger brought near by the approach of -the peddler. A minute passed and then another, but the boy was still -looking out the window, so it was evident that Bekowsky had not yet -reached the garret. The crowd began to get uneasy. - -"Were the 'ell is the bloomin' ragbag gone ter?" asked one seedy -individual. "Don't 'e know 'ee 's keeping us gents waiting?" - -"Don't get himpatient, friends," advised Buster. "Bekowsky 's lost 'is -wind and the 'all is so dark he can't see fer to find hit. Hi 'll send -'im a bit o' candle in a minute to 'elp 'im." - -"He has fell and busted his neck, maybe," suggested a butcher's -apprentice, in a tone that seemed to indicate he would not regard such a -happening entirely in the light of a calamity. - -"Perhaps 'is 'art 'as been touched hand 'ee can't bear to lay 'is 'and -in hanger on a poor horphing like me," said Buster, almost tearful at -the thought of such tenderness. "Perhaps 'ee 'as a noble nature hin -spite o' that 'orrible phisomy." - -"What d' ye's mane by congregating in front of me door like this?" cried -a harsh voice, flavored by a rich Milesian accent. - -"Hit's Mrs. Malone," exclaimed Buster. "Hi'me that glad to lay heyes -hon 'er. Come pertect me, Mrs. Malone." - -A burly Irishwoman, dressed in her best bib and tucker, as becomes a -lady out making a few neighborly calls, elbowed her way through the -crowd, sternly exhorting them to disperse. - -"Oh, it's you, you satan?" she remarked wrathfully, gazing up at the -freckled countenance of the lad. "Wot shenanigans have you been up to -now?" - -"Hi can't discuss my bizness hin front of a vulgar mob," responded -Buster, loftily. "Hif you 'll come hup, Mrs. Malone, Hi 'll be pleased -to hinform you. Hotherwise Hi 'll be forced to maintain an 'aughty -silence." - -"Oh, I 'll come up alright," declared Mrs. Malone, bent on getting to -the bottom of the trouble at once. - -"Hi 'opes so," replied Buster, doubtfully. "Shall Hi come to meet you?" - -"Never mind." - -"Hi don't mind, Mrs. Malone." - -Mrs. Malone vanished in the hall and proceeded upstairs at so rapid a -gait that she failed to perceive on the dimly lighted stairway the -figure of Bekowsky, who had been brought to a standstill by the sudden -appearance of Lord Castlereagh in fighting array at the head of the -stairs. The dog so strongly resented any movement, whether up or down, -on the part of the old-clothesman, that that individual had remained -stationary, not daring to stir a foot in either direction until Mrs. -Malone collided with him, forcing him to advance upward on his hands and -knees several steps, a performance that brought Lord Castlereagh leaping -down upon him. - -Bekowsky gave one yell of terror and flew down the stairs in three -bounds, the dog yelping furiously at his heels, while Mrs. Malone -escaped a bad fall only by hanging on to the banisters, against which -she had backed herself in an effort to regain the breath rudely expelled -from her lungs by the collision. - -"Buster, you omadhaun, what devil's work is this?" gasped Mrs. Malone, -as Lord Castlereagh disappeared below. - -Receiving no answer, the good woman prudently decided to abandon her -visit to the garret until the bulldog should have returned to his -domicile, leaving the stairs free from peril, and therefore turned her -steps to her own headquarters on the floor beneath. - - - - - _Chapter Nine_ - - _TOM MOORE RECEIVES CALLS FROM MRS. MALONE AND MR. DYKE_ - - -Meanwhile Lord Castlereagh, having failed to overtake the -terror-stricken old-clothesman before the lower door was reached, -discreetly abandoned the pursuit, as experience had taught him it was -not best for a bulldog to engage in public altercations when not -accompanied by his master. So he came trotting upstairs, beaming with -doggish good nature, the result of a gratifying realization of duty well -done. As the door to the room from the window of which Buster was still -surveying the rapidly diminishing throng clustered in front of the house -was closed, the bulldog scratched vigorously with his claws for -admittance, his request being speedily gratified, for, in spite of the -old-clothesman's voluble explanations, the crowd refused to regard him -as anything but a defeated contestant and, turning a deaf ear to his -indignation, quietly dispersed to their various affairs, leaving Buster -a complete victor in the recent battle. - -"You done noble, Lord Castlereagh," said Buster, approvingly, at the -same time seating himself upon one of the rickety chairs with which the -attic was furnished. The comfort of this seat was immediately increased -by his tipping it back on its rear legs, balance being maintained by the -elevation of his feet to the top of the table near by. This was the -lad's favorite position, but his enjoyment was speedily eclipsed by -disaster, as the bulldog, for the moment quite carried away with -exultation at his master's unqualified commendation made a violent -effort to climb up in that worthy's lap, a manoeuvre resulting in both -going over backwards with a crash. - -"You willain!" ejaculated the boy, in great disgust. "Wot do you think -Hi am? A hacro-a-bat, or wot?" - -Lord Castlereagh apologized violently with his stumpy tail and seemed -quite overwhelmed with regret. - -"Has you means well, Hi forgives you, sir," said the Buster, rubbing his -elbow, "but don't never turn no more flipflops in partnership wid -Montgomery Julien Hethelbert Spinks, Esquire, or you may hexpect your -walking papers. Hunderstand?" - -Then, as Buster regained his feet, he remembered his master was in the -adjoining bedroom asleep. - -"My heye," he muttered. "We must 'ave disturbed 'im, hand 'im so tired -and discouraged, too." - -He listened for a moment, then, reassured by the silence reigning in the -next room, nodded his head in satisfaction. - -"'Ee 's still asleep," he remarked to the dog. "Dreaming no doubt. Hof -wot, Hi wonders? Publishers? Not much, or 'ee 'd be a cussin'. Hof -that 'aughty dame hover at Drury Lane, who won't kiss and make hup? -That's hit, I 'll bet. Well, this his n't polishin' 'is boots, his it, -Pupsy?" - -Seizing a brush from the table, the boy began to rub a dilapidated -topboot vigorously, meanwhile humming in cheerful discord a verse of a -song, as yet unknown to the general public, but destined to become a -permanent favorite with all lovers of music and poetry. - - "'Twas the last rose hof summer left bloomink alone." - - -A knock on the door interrupted his song, but before he could reply to -it, in marched Mrs. Malone with arms akimbo, and a determined expression -making grave a face naturally good humored. - -"Oh, hit's you, his it?" said Buster, regarding the woman with -disapproving eye. - -"I suppose you t'ought it was the Prince of Wales," replied Mrs. Malone. - -"No, Hi didn't, 'cos w'y? 'Cos 'is Royal 'Ighness never hopens the door -till Hi says come hin. 'Ee 's got better manners, 'ee 'as," replied the -boy. - -The landlady, not at all impressed, snapped her fingers scornfully - -"That for you and the prince," she said, her nose in the air. - -"Mrs. Malone, you 're a hanarchist," declared Buster, shocked beyond -expression. - -"Mr. Buster, you 're a liar," replied the landlady, promptly. - -"You 're no judge, Mrs. Malone. We honly puts hup with hanarchy from -Mr. Dyke, the poet, who comes 'ere and reads 'is treason reeking verses -to Mr. Moore. One hanarchist on hour calling list is enough." - -"You call me that name again, and I 'll smack you," exclaimed Mrs. -Malone, pugnaciously. - -"Smack me!" echoed Buster, in trepidation. "Hif you kisses me, Mrs. -Malone, Hi 'll scream." - -"Kiss you, indeed!" snorted the landlady, scornfully. - -"Don't you dare," warned Buster, getting behind a table for greater -safety. - -"Is your good-for-nothing master in?" - -"Hi am not hacquainted with no such hindividual. Hif you means Mr. -Moore, 'ee 's hout." - -Mrs. Malone looked her disbelief, and pointed grimly to the boots, which -Buster had dropped upon the table. - -"Oh," said Buster, a trifle dashed, but rallying immediately, "these is -souvenirs of the great poet. This goes to 'is Reverence the Harchbishop -of Canterbury to be used as a snuff box, and this his to stand on the -dressing-table of Mrs. Fitz'erbert 'erself. She will put 'er combings -hinto it." - -"Thot jezebel?" ejaculated the woman, with a sniff of disdain. - -"But Mrs. Fitz'erbert does n't 'ail from Jersey," corrected Buster. -"She 's from Wicklow, Hireland." - -"She 's not," cried Mrs. Malone in a high dudgeon. "We don't raise her -kind there. Only dacent people like me comes from the Vale of Avoca." - -Buster looked interested. - -"Say, tell us, his there hany more like you there?" he asked anxiously. - -"There is," replied Mrs. Malone, proudly, "but none betther." - -"Hit's a good thing Hireland is so far horf, is n't it?" said the boy in -a tone of cordial congratulation. - -Mrs. Malone threw a boot at him by way of answer, but, instead of -striking Buster, it flew through the entrance to the adjoining room and -was heard to strike noisily on the head board of the bed. - -"Oh--h--h!" came from within. - -"There, you 'as done it, Mrs. Malone," said the boy reproachfully. - -"Hullo, there," said the voice, sleepily. "Much obliged, I am sure. -Who hit me with a boot? Eh? Buster, I 'll have your British blood to -pay for it." - -"If you do," responded Mrs. Malone, emphatically, "it will be the first -thing you 've paid for in many a day." - -"What?" said the voice. "Do I hear the dulcet tones of my lovely -landlady?" - -Mrs. Malone gave a sniff of concentrated scorn. - -"Niver mind your blarney, Tom Moore," said she. "Where is the rint?" - -"What would I be doing with it?" came from behind the curtain. - -"I knows," replied Mrs. Malone, indignantly. "You would be sending -flowers to some actress at the theayter over on Drury Lane, instead of -paying me. Thot's what you 'd be doing, young sir." - -"You 've guessed it the first time," admitted Moore, "and that is all -the good it would do me. She won't look at me, Mrs. Malone." - -"Small blame to her since that shows she 's a dacint, sensible colleen," -replied the landlady, in tones of conviction, as her lodger drew aside -the curtains of the doorway, and stepped out into the room. - -Tom Moore it was, but such a different youth from the one who in Ireland -had pestered the little school-mistress with his loving attentions. -Trouble and privation had thinned and hollowed his jolly face; lines of -worry and disappointment were crossed round his eyes. His mouth was as -sweet and tender as of yore, but the impertinent nose stood forth much -more sharply. He looked ten years older, but the same winning smile -played around his lips, and in its light the shadows of want and -hopelessness vanished from his face like fog 'neath the warming touch of -sunbeams. He was only half dressed, the absence of coat, vest, and -stock being concealed beneath the enveloping folds of an old brocade -dressing-gown, which undoubtedly had once been a magnificent affair, but -now was only too much in harmony with the surrounding squalor. - - "Sweet Mistress Malone, with your eyes deep and blue, - Don't ask me for rent, for I 'm telling you true, - 'T would make me a bankrupt if I should pay you, - So let the rent slide like a darling,--Now _do_." - - -As Moore extemporized he laid his hand insinuatingly upon the landlady's -muscular arm, but she threw it off roughly as he finished. - -"You can't plaster me, Tom Moore," she declared, loudly. - -Buster and Lord Castlereagh retired to a safe distance and watched -proceedings with eager eyes. - -"Plaster you?" repeated Moore, meditatively, then suddenly laying hands -upon her, he twirled the old lady gently around. "Why should I plaster -you when nature has covered your laths so nicely?" - -"Don't touch me, you young divil," Mrs. Malone ejaculated. "How dare -you take such liberties?" - -"Mine is only a friendly interest," protested Moore. - -"I wants no impudence." - -"Who said you were wanting in impudence?" demanded Moore. "Tell me the -wretch's name, and I 'll attend to his business." - -"Nivir mind," replied the landlady, picking up the mate to the boot she -had hurled at Buster. "It's high time you had new boots. I 'll have no -tramps or ragbags lodging here." - -"Mrs. Malone," said Moore, cheerfully, "I quite agree with you. I am -pleased to say I shall have a new pair to-day." - -"You will, will you?" retorted the old woman. "We hear ducks." - -"I don't hear either ducks or geese. Do you, Buster?" - -"Hi 'ears Mrs. Malone, sir," replied the lad, stepping behind the -bulldog for safety's sake. - -"The mistake is natural," answered Moore. "You were saying--?" - -"There is not a shoemaker in London who would trust you, Tom Moore, nor -any other tradesman," said Mrs. Malone, on whom the foregoing piece of -impudence was quite thrown away. - -"Nevertheless, I 'll bet you the back rent--the all the way back rent, -Mrs. Malone--I have a grand new pair to-day," declared Moore, defiantly. -"Am I right, Buster?" - -"Yessir, that we will," asserted that staunch ally. - -"Niver mind thot," replied the landlady, extending her palm. "Misther -Moore, I 'll thank you for the rint." - -Moore took her hand and pressed it warmly. - -"No thanks are necessary," he said briskly, "since I have n't it." - -The old woman snatched her fingers away with a vigor that nearly upset -her lodger. - -"I 'll have thot rint," she exclaimed. - -"I sincerely hope so, Mrs. Malone, though how you 'll get it I can't -see." - -"I'll make you see." - -"That is very accommodating, I am sure." - -"You must raise it, Misther Moore, or I 'll have to have me attic." - -Moore looked at her admiringly. - -"Ah, Mrs. Malone, surely such a face never went with any but a kind -heart," he said gently. - -"Thot 'll do you, young sir," replied the landlady, quite unimpressed. - -"Ah!" continued the poet, with a sigh. "You are not true Irish, Mrs. -Malone." - -"You know betther, Tom Moore. Was n't it my old man, God rest his good -soul in peace, that taught you your A-B-C's in Ireland? Yes it was, and -many 's the time he said to me, 'Thot bye would blarny the horns off a -cow's forehead if he cud spake her language.'" - -"Oh! those were the good old days!" began the poet, hoping to touch a -sentimental spot in the old lady's memory. - -"Yis, I know all thot," she interrupted. "You almost worried the poor -man to death." - -"Well," said Moore, half seriously, "you are getting even with me now, -are n't you?" - -"Niver mind thot. If you don't pay me, out you walk this day, me -bucko." - -"Won't you let me run if I prefer it?" - -"No impudence! When will you pay me?" - -Moore turned to Buster, interrogatively. - -"When, my lad, will it be most convenient for us to pay Mrs. Malone?" he -asked, gravely. - -Buster scratched his head and pondered, but no answer was forthcoming, -so Moore decided to depend upon his own resources for a satisfactory -reply. - -"After I am dressed," said he. "Come back in half an hour when I am -dressed and I 'll pay you." - -"Very well, then," replied Mrs. Malone, "I 'll come up again in half an -hour by the clock. And no tricks. I 'm watching the hall, so you can't -get away. Do you hear? _I'm watching_ the hall." - -Moore nodded his head approvingly. - -"Quite right, Mrs. Malone," said he. "It's nice to know there is no -danger of the hall being stolen. Sure, what would we do without it?" - -"Bah!" exclaimed the landlady, and with her head held scornfully high, -she marched out, slamming the door by way of rebuke to the levity of her -lodger. - -"My heye!" exclaimed Buster, breathing more freely. "She 's more -wicious than usual to-day, Mr. Moore." - -"I know, lad, but we can't blame her," replied the poet. "She is a good -old soul, and, as she says, it was her husband who first whacked -knowledge into me." - -"Hi suppose 'ee were a fine scholard." - -"Well," said Moore, "he was all right when he was sober, but he was -never sober that I remember. He was always in high spirits as a result -of the spirits being high in him. However, that has nothing to do with -the rent. Is the ladder that leads to the roof of the house next door -out the window?" - -"Yessir," said Buster. "You can go hout the same way you did -yesterday." - -"Good," said Moore, "then I won't have to disturb Mrs. Malone's watch on -the hall." - -"No, sir, that you won't." - -Moore looked at the boy gravely and got a smile in return which in -extent could compare not unfavorably with one of Lord Castlereagh's most -expansive yawns. - -"Buster," said the poet, slowly and sadly, "there is something I feel it -my duty to say to you. Let us be in sober earnest for once, my lad." - -"Yes, sir," assented the boy uneasily, stooping to pull the bulldog's -ragged ear. "Hat your service, Mr. Moore." - -Moore was silent for a moment, and when he did speak it was with an -effort quite apparent. - -"Buster," he said, softly, "it is time we came to an understanding. I -am head over ears in debt as you know. I owe every tradesman in the -neighborhood, and as many out of it as I could get introduced to. I am -a failure as a writer, bitter as it is for me to acknowledge it. Only a -little while longer, and it will be the streets and starvation, Buster." - -"Don't, sir, don't," said the boy, a queer little break in his voice, -but Moore continued: - -"I 'm wronging you in keeping you with me, laddie. Don't waste any more -of your time with me. I am only holding you back." - -"Hand if Hi went, sir," asked the boy, pitifully, "wot would become hof -_you_?" - -"I?" murmured Moore, choking back a sob. "There is n't much doubt, is -there?" - -"Who 'd black your boots for you, hand 'eat your shaving water, hand -listen to your poetry, sir?" demanded Buster, wiping his eyes with his -shirt sleeve. "Blow me hif I 'ave n't a cold in me 'ead. My heyes is -runnin' somethink hawful hall day." - -"It's best for you, Buster," insisted Moore, laying his hand -affectionately on the boy's shoulder. - -"Hit ain't hanythink o' the kind, hand I won't go, sir," declared Buster -in an apologetically defiant tone. "No, sir, Hi _won't_ go." - -"You won't, Buster?" - -"Wot would that young lady hover at Drury Lane think o' me, hif I left -you halone?" - -Moore sighed at the thought of her. - -"She would n't care, Buster," he murmured. - -"Wouldn't she? Then she 'as an 'eart of hice, that's wot she 'as, sir, -wid hall the beautiful pomes we 'ave sent 'er." - -"But you are getting no wages, Buster," protested Moore. - -"Well, sir," the boy answered, "Hi 'as a situation, Hi 'as. That's more -'n you 'as, his n't it?" - -His voice died away in a snuffle, and he clutched his master by the arm -appealingly. - -"You won't send me away?" he asked, piteously. "You won't, will you, Mr. -Moore." - -Moore, touched to the heart at the lad's generous devotion, felt the -tears gathering in his eyes, but forced them back with an effort, though -his voice shook as he answered: - -"My dear, brave, little fellow, how can I doubt Providence when there is -one such loyal heart near me? Stay, Buster. We will rise or fall -together." - -As he spoke he held his hand out to the boy, who took it joyfully. - -"Yessir, that we will, sir. You hand me, hand Lord Castlereagh." - -The bulldog, as though understanding the situation, thrust his cold nose -in Moore's hand, and wagged his tail sympathetically as the poet crossed -to the fireplace after patting the ugly head, rough with the scars of -years of battling. - -"Buster," continued Moore, without turning round. - -"Yessir?" - -"May God bless you, lad," said the poet, bowing his head on the -mantelpiece to hide the tears that would come in spite of him. - -"Thank you, sir." - -Then as Moore dropped into the old arm-chair beside the hearth, the boy, -resolved to wake him from his unhappy mood, burst into song, rendering -one of his master's most recent productions in a style worthy of a -scissor-grinding machine. - - "Horf in the stilly night - H'ere slumber's chains 'as bound me, - The shadows hof hother days - Comes a-gathering round me." - - -Moore, roused to mental activity by the racket, sat bolt upright in -dismay. - -"Buster!" he cried, reprovingly, but the boy continued at the top of his -lungs as though he had not heard. - - "The smiles, the tears, - Hof boyish years--" - - -Bang! came a book against the door from across the room, missing Buster, -who had dodged, by a few inches. - -"For Heaven's sake stop that caterwauling," cried Moore. "You put my -teeth on edge." - -Lord Castlereagh became victim of a hallucination that the book thrown -by Moore was a rat of large size, and was fast shaking the life out of -it when Buster descended upon him and effected a rescue. - -"Blow me, Lord Castlereagh, if you hain't a knocking the stuffin' hout -of 'The Rivals,'" he remarked reprovingly. - -"Out of the rivals?" said Moore, with a laugh. "Faith, I 'd like to try -the same game on mine, Buster. It's the simplest way, after all; isn't -it, doggie?" - -Lord Castlereagh became quite giddy, and, possessed by a puppyish fancy, -decided upon an immediate and vigorous pursuit of his stumpy tail as the -proceeding next in order, prosecuting his endeavor with such enthusiasm -that he collided violently with everything in the room, including Moore -and Buster, in the space of a moment, abandoning his enterprise only -when winded as a result of running broadside on against a wall. - -"Will you heat your dinner now, sir?" asked Buster. - -"Dinner? What have you?" - -"Leaving hout the rest of the bill of fare, there 's a slice hof 'am -hand 'arf a loaf of bread, hand a little hof that Hirish wisky your -sister sent you from Hireland fer your birthday." - -Rummaging in the cupboard, Buster speedily brought to light the little -stone jug containing what was left of the girl's gift, and as Moore -seated himself at the table, which also served as desk when needed, the -boy placed the whisky before him. - -"Ah!" said the poet, his eyes glistening as he uncorked it. "That's the -real old stuff. That's what puts the life into a man, eh, lad?" - -As he spoke, Moore held up the jug, and shutting an eye endeavored to -peer into it. - -"There is n't much life left in it, Buster." - -Then, taking a whiff, the poet smacked his lips, but placed the jug upon -the table, its contents untouched. - -"No," he said, shaking his head, "it is too precious to waste. I must -save that, laddie." - -"Yessir," said Buster, "fer some joyous hoccasion. 'Ave hanother smell, -sir?" - -"No, no," exclaimed Moore, waving the boy away. "Get thee behind me, -Satan. Don't tempt me, Buster, for I am not over strong in that -direction. Cork it up tightly. They say it evaporates and it's too -good to have even a drop wasted." - -Buster stowed the little jug in the depths of the cupboard and returned -briskly to where Moore was eating his dinner. - -"Hi 've seen the shoemakers, sir," he announced. - -"Ah, did you?" - -"Yessir. The boots is hall done hand ready to be delivered." - -"Good enough," commented Moore. "Did you appoint a time for them to -come?" - -"Hi did that, sir. One will be 'ere at four, the hother at twenty -minutes past the hower," replied the youth, shaking his finger warningly -at Lord Castlereagh, who manifested more interest in the eatables than -was in strict accordance with good manners. - -"First rate, Buster," said Moore, approvingly. "Is there any other -news?" - -The boy hesitated a moment, but with an effort continued: - -"Yessir, that ain't hall. Hi 'as a confession to make, sir." - -"You have?" said Moore in a surprised tone. "Well, let's have it, my -lad." - -"Yessir--" - -"One moment, Buster," exclaimed the poet, an expression of alarm coming -over his face. "One moment in which to compose myself. Now I am -calmer. Tell me, Buster, tell me you have n't secretly married Mrs. -Malone?" - -"Married _'ell_!" exclaimed the lad, his nose turning up in disdain at -the idea. - -"'T would be much the same thing, I 'm thinking," chuckled Moore. -"Well, that is one peril escaped. Go on with your confession." - -"You know that pome you sent me with to the _Times_, sir?" began Buster, -still ill at ease. - -"'The Last Rose of Summer,' wasn't it?" - -"Yessir. Hi did n't take it to the _Times_." - -"You did n't? Why not, Buster?" - -"Hit was this way, sir, just 'as Hi wuz a coming by Carlton 'Ouse, who -should Hi see stepping hout 'er carriage but Mrs. Fitz'erbert 'erself, -looking that sweet and beautiful has would make your mouth water." - -"So there is a woman in it, after all?" observed Moore. "'T was ever -thus, Buster." - -"Yessir, so wot does Hi do but rip horf the wrapper hand run hup to 'er -with the poem, hand sticks hit into 'er 'and. 'That's for you,' ses Hi, -hand tips me 'at hand is horf through the crowd like a hantelope." - -"Nicely done, Buster," said Moore. "It may come in handy for her -ladyship. She can make curlpapers of it. Well, you are forgiven, my -boy." - -"Thank you, sir," said Buster, greatly relieved. - -"Was my name signed?" - -"Yessir, hand your haddress too." - -"Very good, Buster. Perhaps she 'll come to call and bring the Prince -of Wales with her." - -"Well, sir," replied Buster, "hit's my hopinion has 'ow neither hov 'em -is one bit too good for hus." - -"That sounds like treason, Buster." - -"Does it, sir?" cried Buster, apparently delighted to hear it. - -A knock at the door disturbed both servant and master, as well as -arousing suspicions of the worst nature in the bosom of Lord -Castlereagh, who growled ominously. - -"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Moore, rising hurriedly from the table, which was -saved from an upset by the quick hand of Buster. "Is it the rent -again?" - -Buster tiptoed to the door as the knock was repeated, and whispered, -after listening: - -"Hit's all right, sir. Who is it?" - -"It's Mr. Dyke," declared the person desirous of entering. - -Moore's face fell. - -"With another treasonable poem, I suppose," he muttered. "Worse luck." - -"Wot does you listen to 'em for?" asked Buster, disgustedly, leaving the -door as Moore crossed to open it. - -"Ah, that is the question," said the poet, softly. - -"Hi knows," remarked Buster under his breath. "'Cos 'ee 's 'er father, -that's why." - -"Come in, Mr. Dyke," said Moore, opening the door. "How are you to-day, -sir?" - -"Oh, very well, Thomas," replied the old gentleman, entering with a -self-satisfied air. "How do you, my boy?" - -Mr. Dyke's dress showed that he was enjoying prosperity. His coat and -hat had hardly lost their appearance of newness, while the rest of his -costume, though evidently not of recent purchase, was of good quality, -greatly exceeding in costliness the apparel in which he was wont to garb -himself in Ireland. - -"I have nothing to complain of so far as health is concerned, Mr. Dyke. -Buster, a chair for the gentleman." - -"I have come to read you a poem, Thomas." - -"Indeed?" said Moore. "Buster, two chairs for the gentleman." - -"You will have your joke, Thomas," observed Mr. Dyke, with an indulgent -smile, as he seated himself. - -"I have n't much else, sir," said Moore, "that's why I value it so -highly. How is Bessie, sir?" - -"She is well and working hard on her new part. The new piece is produced -at Drury Lane in a week." - -"I know," said Moore. "Bessie is getting on, is n't she?" - -"Indeed she is, Thomas," replied Mr. Dyke, proudly. "The manager says if -she does as well as he expects in the next piece, he will allow her to -play Lydia in a revival of Mr. Sheridan's great comedy, 'The Rivals.'" - -"So they revive Dicky's play? They do well, for they have had nothing -since to equal it except 'The School for Scandal.'" - -The old gentleman cleared his throat modestly. - -"Quite true, Thomas, and for that very reason I am preparing to write a -comedy myself." - -"Bravo, sir. Surely it is a shame only one Irishman should wear laurels -for play-writing." - -"Do you know Mr. Sheridan, Thomas?" - -"Not I, sir, though both of us received our education at the same school -some thirty years apart. Dr. Whyte taught us both, and admits even now -that he considered Sheridan but little better than a dunce." - -"So I have heard Mr. Sheridan himself declare," observed Mr. Dyke. "A -great man, Thomas, a great man." - -"You know him, sir?" asked Moore, a shade of envy for a moment -perceptible in his voice. - -"I met him a fortnight ago at Sir Percival's house. Needless to say I -was honored, Thomas." - -"Quite needless, sir. Was he sober?" - -"Part of the time," answered Mr. Dyke, reluctantly. - -"Ah," said Moore, "that must have been early in the evening. Does -Bessie know him?" - -"Yes, Thomas. He was so kind as to give her his personal opinion of the -airs and graces suitable as business for the character of Lydia, for he -will have no one even mention the possibility of her not obtaining the -part." - -"Look here now," said Moore, quickly. "You just bear in mind what sort -of a killer that same gay old lad is with the ladies. I 'll not have -him making love to Bessie, if I have to tell him so on the street. He -is an old rake, sir, and there is no more dangerous man in London, for -all his years." - -"Tut, tut, Thomas," said Mr. Dyke in benign reproof. "Mr. Sheridan is a -married man." - -"I know," replied Moore, doubtfully, "but I have often heard that they -are the worst kind. By the way, how is that distinguished -philanthropist, Sir Percival Lovelace?" - -"You must not sneer at him, Thomas. Bessie and I owe everything to -him." - -"Never fear. He expects to be paid one way or another," growled Moore, -full of suspicions but absolutely lacking in proof. - -"Thanks to his influence, my verses are much in demand. No doubt you -have seen a number of them published?" - -"I have that, and read them eagerly. Ah, you too are getting up in the -world, Mr. Dyke." - -"I flatter myself it is so," replied the old gentleman pompously. -"Shall I speak a word to Sir Percival in your favor, Thomas? He could -help you much, being, as you know, an intimate friend of the Prince -himself." - -"Thank you, no," answered Moore, savagely. "I 'll get where I aim -without his assistance or rot where I am contentedly. You don't see Sir -Percival as I do, sir." - -"Evidently not," replied Mr. Dyke, blandly. "I find in him a firm and -powerful friend, who has exerted himself much in my behalf, while you -regard him as--" - -"My view of him is n't fit for such lips as yours, Mr. Dyke," -interrupted Moore. "We will say no more about him. I only hope you may -be correct in your opinion of the gentleman." - -"Have you heard the news from home?" asked Mr. Dyke, polishing his -glasses, preparatory to unrolling the manuscript, which he had placed -upon the table between them. - -"Not I, sir. It's a fortnight since I have heard from my mother, though -I write to her twice a week. Father is ailing, no doubt. He is getting -on in years, you know. But then their news is only of Dublin. I have -heard nothing from Dalky at all." - -"Winnie Farrell was married to Captain Arbuckle last Wednesday week." - -Moore gave a start. - -"You don't say so, sir? Are you sure?" - -"Sure as man can be. They are off on their honeymooning now. I had a -letter from Squire Farrell himself. By the way, Terence has come to -London and is studying law." - -"I hope the rascal will keep out of my way," said Moore, viciously. "A -sneak, if ever there was one." - -"You quarrelled with him, Thomas?" - -"I did, sir, and licked him well, too. Tell me, Mr. Dyke, is Bessie -still angry with me?" - -The old gentleman sighed and put on his glasses. - -"I am afraid so, Thomas," he said, gravely. "She never mentions your -name, though I do my best to interest her in your doings. Now for the -poem, lad. It is a satire, Thomas, a satire on the Prince of Wales. Oh, -I cook him to a turn, Thomas. Ah, how he would squirm if I dared to -have it published." - -Moore leaned over the table and took the manuscript from his guest in a -manner more vigorous than polite. - -"If you did have it published, you 'd be dropped by society like a hot -potato, and Bessie would lose her position at Drury Lane," he said. -"You would be in a nice fix then, would n't you, Robin Dyke, Esquire?" - -"If worst came to worst, even then I would still have the pension -guaranteed me by Sir Percival," replied the elder poet, obstinately. - -"You would," assented Moore, emphatically, "_for about five minutes_. -Mr. Dyke, Irishman and patriot that you are, you do wrong every time you -write a line that compromises your position here in London. Thanks to -the efforts of Sir Percival, you have been nicely received; your verses -are purchased and printed; success such as you have never known before -is yours, and yet in spite of all this that old taint in you leads you -to write in secret poems which would be your ruin if they ever saw the -light. Good God, sir! Have you no thought of Bessie at all? You must -think of Bessie. _You must_." - -Mr. Dyke, thus forcibly rebuked, grew red in the face, and seemed for a -moment about to hotly point out the disregard paid by his young friend -to the difference in their ages, but his better nature prevailed as his -sense of justice showed him plainly that Moore was in the right; so, -after a short silence, he accepted his host's criticism in the same -spirit it was offered. - -"You are right, Thomas," said he, reluctantly, "quite right, my lad; but -remember that I never read such verses to any one but you. I must admit -I thoroughly enjoy giving occasional vent to my real feelings. It's -like throwing a load off my heart, Thomas." - -"I know how you feel," replied Moore, sagely, "but take my advice, and -throw off no more loads that way." - -"Thomas, I won't. I promise I 'll not write another." - -"Good, Mr. Dyke," exclaimed Moore, gladly. "It is delighted I am to -hear you say that. Ah, sir, if I were where you are, I 'd run no such -danger, I can tell you." - -"Shall I read it to you, Thomas?" asked the old gentleman, resolved to -extract all possible enjoyment from this bit of treason, since it was to -have no successor. - -"Leave it with me," suggested Moore, endeavoring to postpone its perusal -to the last moment possible. "I 'll read it to myself and study your -method thoroughly. It will be a greater help to me that way, you know, -and I am anxious to learn, sir." - -Dyke gave a flattered cough or two and rose to go. - -"You must not be discouraged, Thomas," he said in a kindly patronizing -tone, "your verses have merit, real merit. I 'll stake my reputation -upon it." - -"It's kind of you to say that," said Moore, gratefully, though in secret -vastly amused, "a successful man like you." - -"Oh, I mean it, Thomas, I mean it. Why, some day I 'd not be surprised -if you were rated as a poet almost as high as Robin Dyke." - -"You don't mean it, sir?" - -"Almost, I said _almost_," repeated the old gentleman, fearful lest he -had raised hope too high in his fellow author's breast. - -"I heard you," said Moore, dryly, while Buster and Lord Castlereagh -shared their indignation at the fireplace to which they had retired. - -"I must get along now," announced Mr. Dyke, as though desirous of gently -breaking the news of his approaching departure. "Oh, you will laugh -your sides sore when you read that poem, Thomas." - -"Will I?" asked Moore, doubtfully. - -Mr. Dyke turned at the door with a chuckle. - -"I almost envy you the fun, my lad. Oh, it's monstrous witty." - -And fairly shaking with merriment at the mental contemplation of his own -humor, the old gentleman toddled down the stairs, quite at peace with -the world at large and even more satisfied with himself. - -"My best love to Bessie," Moore called after him, leaning over the -banisters. - -"Have you the rint?" came from below in the unmistakably Hibernian -accents of Mrs. Malone. - -"No, I have n't, have you?" shouted the disgusted poet, and hastening -back into the room, he shut the door. - -"Rank halmost as 'igh as 'im," exclaimed Buster, indignantly. "Well Hi -likes 'is himpudence. Say, Mr. Moore, Hi thinks that hold cove is -daffy." - -"They say genius is akin to madness," replied Moore, stowing the poem -away in the drawer of the table, where he kept many productions of his -own. - -"Then 'ee 's been achin' a long time," replied the boy, misunderstanding -the meaning of his master's remark. - -Moore laughed gently and did not correct him. - - - - - _Chapter Ten_ - - _IN WHICH THE LANDLADY IS PLAYED A TRICK_ - - -In the meantime Mrs. Malone, having pounded upstairs, halted in front of -the door, not from politeness, but to regain her breath. Having paused, -she decided to knock, unconsciously mindful of Buster's scathing rebuke. - -"Who is there?" asked Buster. - -"Me, for me money," responded the landlady, determinedly. "Is there any -sin in asking for what is due me?" - -"As much sin as there is use," muttered Moore. "I can't go over the roof -like this, Buster. I have it. Tell her I am taking a bath." - -"Yessir," said the boy, starting towards the door as Moore sought -shelter with pail and pitcher of water behind an old screen standing in -the corner of the room. - -"My _cold_ bath, Buster," whispered Moore. - -"Yessir." - -"And, Buster?" - -"Yessir." - -"You get out when she comes in." - -"Hi will, sir," responded Buster preparing to open the door. - -"Am I to die of old age in my own hall?" demanded Mrs. Malone, waxing -indignant. - -"You 'as your choice hof complaints, _madam_," replied Buster, opening -the door. - -"You limb!" said she, misunderstanding the lad's unusual politeness. "I -'ll not have any half-baked omadhaun cursing me." - -"Curse you, Mrs. Malone? Himpossible, hon my word of honer. W'y Hi 'as -narthin but blessin's fer you, _sweetheart_." - -Mrs. Malone aimed a blow at Buster's ear, and, as he dodged -successfully, swung half around with the misspent energy of her effort. -Buster sought safety in the hall, but thrust his head in the doorway. - -"Mr. Moore his taking 'is cold bawth," he announced, loudly. - -A splashing of water coming from behind the screen corroborated the -lad's statement. - -"Taking his bath, is he?" said Mrs. Malone. "It's the only thing he can -take widout getting arresthed." - -"Hit's 'is _hown_, Mrs. Malone." - -"Are you sure of thot?" - -"W'y h'are you so suspicious, Mrs. Malone? 'Ave _you_ missed one?" - -"Niver you mind prying into the secrets of me toilet. I 'll have you to -understand--" - -At this moment a ragged towel, soaking wet as the result of its -immersion in the pail, sailed over the top of the screen and landed with -a gurgling squash, fair and square on the back of the landlady's neck, -dampening her collar and best cap so thoroughly that the starched linen -immediately subsided into floppy limpness. - -"Merciful powers!" ejaculated Mrs. Malone, jumping a foot at least. -"Phwat 's thot?" - -Buster fled downstairs fearful of impending massacre, while Moore behind -the screen began giving an imitation of a man in the throes of an -ice-cold bath, bursting into musicless song punctuated with exclamations -of discomfort and shivery comments on his condition. - - "She is far from the land," - -he shouted, slopping the water from pitcher to pail and back again, -adding sotto voce, "But not from the landlady, worse luck--Oh! I 'll -die of the cold! I know I will. Oh, mother, it's a cake of ice your -beloved Thomas is fast becoming. - - "Where her young hero sleeps, - ---Only her young hero is freezing instead of sleeping. Help! Help! -Whew-w-w! Murder, murder, I 'm dying of the chill!" - -Mrs. Malone in speechless rage had unwound the wet towel from around her -neck. - -"You divil!" she remarked, with the calmness of despair. "You -red-handed rapscallion. You 've spiled me best Sunday -Get-Up-and-Go-to-Early-Morning-Mass-Cap. Oh, you haythen!--you turk! -Hanging is too good for the likes of you." - -Moore, bawling and singing at the top of his lungs, heard nothing of the -landlady's desperation. - - "And lovers around her are sighing, - But coldly she turns-- - -Faith, the dear girl must have been taking a cold bath herself, I 'm -thinking. Oh, murder! No! For, if that were so, how could the lovers -be around her? No, indeed, no lady decent enough for Tom Moore to -immortalize in song would be guilty of such immodesty, I am sure. - - "But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps, - For her heart in his grave is lying. - -A beautiful sentiment, Mr. Moore." - -"Oh, where is that soap?" and then again bursting into song, he warbled: - - "Where _is_ that soap? - _Where_ is _that_ soap? - Oh, _where_ in Blazes _is_ that so-o-o-ap? - -Buster, you devil, bring me the soap." - -"I 'll do nuthing of the kind," replied Mrs. Malone, ferociously. - -"You won't?" - -"Not I." - -"In half a jiffy I 'll come out there and give you the leathering you -deserve for insubordination." - -"Oh!" cried the landlady. "And me here, Bridget Malone." - -"What?" exclaimed Moore, as though suspecting her presence for the first -time. "Are _you_ there, Mrs. Malone? Whew! but this water is cold." - -His head, with hair, wet and tousled, sticking up every which way, -appeared above the top of the screen, being elevated just enough to keep -his shirt band out of sight, thus preventing the betrayal of his -subterfuge to the landlady. - -"How do you do, Mrs. Malone?" said he, courteously. - -"I 'm sopping wet, thanks to you." - -"So am I, Mrs. Malone. We are twins in that respect. Me teeth are -chattering as you can see-e-e-e!" - -"I 'll have thot rint now, you blaggard." - -"Shall I come and give it to you, Mrs. Malone? Oh, Lord, it is freezing -to death I am." - -"I hope you are; when you die you 'll git a change," answered Mrs. -Malone, sitting down by the table, decisively. - -"Are you going to stay?" asked Moore. - -"I 'll sit right here till I git me rint, Tom Moore." - -"You will, eh?" - -"Thot I will, you water t'rowing spalpeen." - -"I said come back when I am dressed, did n't I? Well, I 'm _not_ -dressed, am I?" - -"How should I know?" observed Mrs. Malone, loudly, meanwhile mopping her -neck with her handkerchief. - -"Well," responded the poet, "you _will_ know, if you don't get out of -here mighty quick, I can tell you. I 'll not be turned into a lump of -ice for any old lady, Irish or no Irish. Whe-ee! Oh-h-h! G-r-r-r-h! -When I get into the market the price of ice will drop a penny a pound." - -"I wants me rint," reiterated the landlady, quite unconcerned as to her -lodger's personal temperature. - -"Do you think I have it in the tub with me?" demanded Moore, growing -desperate. - -"I 've no doubt you have as much of it there as anywhere," replied Mrs. -Malone, unconsciously hitting the nail on the head. - -"I 'll give you till I count twenty to quit the premises." - -"Twenty or twenty t'ousand is just the same to me, Mr. Moore." - -"Then you have no head for figures, Mrs. Malone?" - -"Not I, Tom Moore." - -"Well, there is one figure you 'll know more about if you don't skip, -and that is the one of Thomas Moore, Esquire." - -"If you do, I 'll have you arresthed." - -"All right, Mrs. Malone. My frozen blood be upon your head. No, by St. -Patrick, I 'll not ice myself even to oblige you. Out you go, my lady. -One--two--three. Will you go?" - -"Not I, sorr!" - -"Eight--nine--ten-- Are you going?" - -"Divil a fut will I." - -"Twelve--thirteen--sixteen-- Now are you ready?" - -"I 'm not, sorr." - -"Eighteen--nineteen--!" - -"Oh-h!" cried Mrs. Malone, intimidated at last by the poet's -determination, "I will, Misther Moore, I will." - -And gathering up her skirts she rushed for the door, reaching it just as -Buster entered, the collision sending that young gentleman sprawling on -the floor. - -"Thank ye very kindly, ma'am," he remarked, saluting her in military -fashion from his lowered altitude. - -"Thot for your t'anks," she sniffed, and made her exit, signifying her -scorn and dissatisfaction by the vigor with which she shut the door. - -Moore emerged from behind the screen with a sigh of relief. - -"Oh, Buster, my boy," he said breathlessly, "there is nothing like cold -water for starting the circulation. What would I do without my tubbing?" - -"She 'll be back hagain, sir," said Buster, sighing at the thought. "Hi -wish 'er hold man was halive. 'Ee would n't be so 'ard hon us, would -'ee?" - -"Well, I am not so sure about that," answered Moore. "He was very fond -of the bottle, was Mr. Malone. Usually he 'd not get up till noon, -leaving us to fight and play around the schoolroom till he got over the -effects of the night before. Then he 'd wallop the lot of us for waking -him up so early." - -"Was she fond of 'im?" - -"She was, Buster! Much more, probably, than she would have been if he -had been a better husband." - -"Just himagine Bridget Malone a-courtin'. D'ye suppose has 'ow the hold -gal remembers it, sir?" - -"I would n't be surprised, Buster. Such memories grow dearer as old age -approaches. By the Saints, lad, you 've given me an idea!" - -"'As I?" said the boy in surprise. "Hi didn't know has I 'ad one." - -"You have fixed it so I can stand her off for the rent or my name is not -Thomas Moore," answered the poet cheerfully. "We 'll not have to move -this day, Buster." - -"Ho, that's fine, sir. Me and Lord Castlereagh 'ates moving. Does n't -we, pup?" - -The bulldog barked exultantly catching the key of hope from his master's -voice. - -"Hof corse," said Buster, "when worst comes to worst we can keep the -place by setting Lord Castlereagh to watch the stairs. No landlady hor -bailiff wud hever git by 'im, sir." - -"That would be what is known as a dogged resistance of authority," said -Moore, chuckling at his bad joke. "We must n't come to that, lad." - -"Hall right, sir, we won't." - -Moore returned to his temporarily abandoned repast and speedily ate his -fill, Buster and the dog sharing alike in the debris, which was more -than enough to afford satisfaction to them both. - -"Now, I 'll try to work," said Moore, arming himself with a huge quill, -the feathered end of which being well chewed, seemed indicative of -having furnished food for reflection to its owner in the immediate past. -He sat down at the table, scrupulously cleaned and dusted by Buster -after he had removed the dishes, and, drawing a blank sheet of paper -towards him, dipped the pen in the ink, preparatory to calling upon his -inspiration. But that was as far as he got, for the desired idea failed -to materialize. - -"Hang it!" he said, throwing down the pen in disgust, "I can't write a -line. How can I expect to when nothing is in my mind but Bessie? Ah, -Bessie, Bessie, you 've taken my heart; now you rob me of my fancy. It -will be my life next, if I 'm not careful." - -"Can't you think hof nothin', Mr. Moore?" asked Buster, anxiously. - -"I 'm thinking of the greatest thing in the world, lad." - -"Ho, Hi knows wot that is: love." - -"Do you think so, Buster?" - -"No, sir, but you does. W'y, sir, gals gives me pains. Hi would n't -swap one paw of Lord Castlereagh for the 'ole sex. Wot good is they? -They can't fight--" - -"It is evident, Buster, that you have never been married," interrupted -Moore. "However, continue with your oration. I am interested." - -"His yer?" said Buster, much delighted. "Well that his fine. Hi 'll -continyer. They can't fight, that is not with their fisties, hat least -not hin accordance with the rules o' the ring. They is timid, hand -selfish! My Lord, hain't they selfish! Halways thinking about 'ow they -look; hand eating!--W'y, sir, a girl is nine-tenths happetite and the -rest 'unger. Clothes and vittles his all they thinks is worth while, -hand the devotion hand effort to please with wich we honors them hain't -naught but about 'arf wot they thinks they deserves. A gal, sir, thinks -has 'ow she does the earth a service, w'en she puts 'er footsy down -hupon it. 'Arf of 'em himagines they consecrates the ground they walk -on. Hexcuse me w'en it comes to gals. Hi could n't 'ave 'em squallin' -and complainin' hany where Hi 'm at. Hand then, sir, they is sich -fearsome liars. They never 'ad no hintroduction to truth, sir. W'y they -can honly tell it w'en they 'ears it, hand w'en they repeats it they -halways dresses it hup with himaginations like they 'd pile fancy -clothes hon their hown hanatomy previous to hattending some bloomin' -masquerade. Facts halways assumes a disguise hafter a hincounter wid -females. Believe 'em we could n't and we would n't, would we, doggie?" - -"Woof!" remarked Lord Castlereagh, playfully nipping at Buster's -shoestring. - -"Quite right, pupsy, you halways agrees with me; there, sir, that's one -thing a wife won't do, his n't it?" - -"I wish I could forswear dependence as you have done, Buster," said -Moore with a sigh, "but it's no use. I have n't the strength of mind. -By the way, lad, did you sell the empty wine-bottles?" - -"No, sir, but Hi'll tend to it very soon, sir. Hi'll get 'em hout right -away," replied Buster, suiting the action to the word. From the -cupboard he took six bottles which once upon a time, though not very -recently, had contained sherry. These he stood upon a stool and was -about to ransack the depths of the closet in quest of more when there -came a rapping at the door. - -"Hit's Mr. Dabble from the wine-shop, sir," announced Buster, after -opening the door a little. - -"Tell Mr. Dabble I didn't order any wine," said Moore, crossly. "Will I -never get started on this poem?" - -Buster conveyed the mentioned information to the clerk and received a -reply in return that he felt justified in delivering. - -"Mr. Dabble says has 'ow hit's a cursed lucky thing you did n't horder -hanythink, and has 'ow it would n't do you hany good hif you hordered -till Kingdom Come, sir." - -"He said that, did he?" said Moore, angrily, rousing from his labors. - -"Yes, sir. Shall Hi mash 'im in the phisomy?" - -"No, Buster, I can't blame Mr. Porter for being angry, for it's a dog's -age since I have paid him anything," answered Moore. - -"Shall Hi let 'im hin?" - -"Not yet, Buster. First ask him what _ails the stout Mr. Porter_?" - -Buster snorted with merriment and repeated his master's question to the -fellow in the hall. - -"'Ee says has 'ow you knows confounded well wot hails 'im. 'Ee 's got -no 'ead for hewmer, sir. Better let me mash 'im, Mr. Moore. The -practice hand hexercise would do us both good." - -"No, Buster, we 'll have no violence. Admit Mr. Dabble with appropriate -solemnity." - -"Step hin 'ere, you sour-faced cockney," said Buster, throwing open the -door. "Turn your noble footsies hin this direction, han don't kick the -nap hoff the brussels carpet with your feet stools or Hi will lift you -one in the phisomy, which his 'igh Henglish fer that ugly face o' yourn, -you willain." - - - - - _Chapter Eleven_ - - _TOM MOORE RECEIVES VISITS FROM TWO COBBLERS AND A CLERK_ - - -Mr. Dabble was a slender, sharp-featured young man of six-and-twenty. -His face was sour and suspicious, an expression that was heightened by -his wispy yellow hair that bristled up not unlike the comb on a rooster. -He was long and lank, and afflicted with an overweight of good opinion -as to his own merits which may have been the cause of his stooping -shoulders. - -After giving Buster a squelching glance, intended to reduce that -impudent youth to a proper degree of humility (a result which it -conspicuously failed to produce), this worthy person entered briskly, -carrying on his arm a basket covered with an old cloth. Dabble believed -in system, and in this instance having an order of sherry to deliver in -the neighborhood took advantage of his being in the vicinity to dun the -poet for his long over-due account. - -Setting down the basket on the floor near the door, the clerk drew a -bill from his vest pocket and advanced with it to the table at which -Moore was pretending to be busily scribbling. - -"Mr. Dabble, sir," announced Buster. - -Moore did not look up. - -"Tell Dabble to go to the devil," he remarked, absent-mindedly, -continuing his writing. - -"Mr. Moore, I refuse to go to the devil," exclaimed Dabble, indignantly. - -"Then don't go to the devil," answered Moore, still scribbling. "Call -on some other relative." - -"My employer says it is high time you paid this bill," persisted the -clerk, thrusting the statement of Moore's account beneath the poet's -nose, as Buster quietly investigated the contents of the basket the -newcomer had brought with him. - -"You must n't believe all you hear, Mr. Dabble," replied Moore. "Many -casual statements are grossly incorrect. Really, the aggregate amount -of misinformation current these days is most appalling. Just consider -it for a moment if you have never given it thought before." - -"I have no time for consideration, Mr. Moore." - -"If you had more consideration for time--that is my time--and its value, -you would not be delaying the completion of this poem in this manner," -Moore answered, laying down the quill with a sigh of endurance. "Sit -down, Mr. Dibble." - -"My name is Dabble." - -"Well, it would n't bend your name if you sat down, would it, Dibble?" - -"Dabble, sir, Dabble." - -"Quite true, sir. I frequently do in literature, but how did you know?" - -"Sir," said the clerk impressively, "time flies and time is money." - -"Indeed, Mr. Dibble? Let me make a suggestion then. You should take -time, build a flying machine and make money. Then you would n't have to -bother me for mine." - -As Dabble stood for a moment quite disconcerted by the poet's remarkable -advice, Buster, with exquisite care that no noise should be made to -frustrate his design, extracted two of the full bottles from the -deserted basket, and with equal caution replaced them with two of the -empty ones he had set out preparatory to offering them for sale in the -neighborhood. - -So carefully did Buster execute this manoeuvre, that the attention of -neither the clerk nor Moore was attracted to his performance, which was -successfully repeated by the lad until only one full bottle remained in -the basket, this being left deliberately for a certain purpose, not -because the opportunity to purloin it had not been afforded him. - -"Do you intend to pay this bill, sir?" demanded Dabble, waking up to the -fact that he had been made fun of, and waxing angry accordingly. - -"Certainly I intend to pay it, Mr. Dibble," said Moore impatiently. - -"To-day?" - -"No, I never pay bills on Tuesday." - -"What day _do_ you pay them on?" - -"I usually liquidate all indebtedness on the twenty-ninth of February. -If you will call around then I will be pleased to settle and may perhaps -give you another order. Now you really must excuse me, as I am obliged -to finish this sonnet without further delay." - -"February is too far off," objected the clerk, not comprehending the -space of time that must necessarily elapse before the date mentioned by -Moore would be reached by the calendar, for this was not a leap-year. - -"Well, then, pay it yourself, Mr. Dibble, if you are not satisfied with -my way of doing it. Perhaps that would be the best way, after all." - -"Mr. Moore, have done with joking. This bill--" - -"Hang it, Dibble, you make more noise with your beak than you do with -your bill," exclaimed Moore, trying indignation for a change. "You 'll -have me out of my mind, if you don't look out." - -"Well, that's evidently where our bill has been." - -"Out of mind, Mr. Dibble?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Then if it has no mind it is unreasonable, and I never pay unreasonable -bills. Buster, the door for Mr. Dibble." - -"I am not going yet, and my name is Dabble, not Dibble." - -Moore waved Buster back as that pugnacious youth was about to lay -violent hands on the clerk. - -"Your father is responsible for your name. He is much to blame, Dibble. -If I were you, I 'd sue the old man for damages." - -"I see you have no intention of paying this bill, Mr. Moore," said the -clerk, abandoning hope of collection. - -"You must be a mind reader," observed Moore. "You could make a fortune -exhibiting your gifts in public, sir. Now, my dear fellow, before you -go, just to show there is no hard feeling between us personally, even if -I owe your employer, have a drink with me." - -"But," began Dabble. - -"I 'll take no denial," said Moore, winningly. "Come, sir, you shan't -refuse me. Buster, bring forth the precious liquor and we will do honor -to our guest." - -"I never drink a drop," expostulated the clerk, telling an outrageous -lie incidentally. - -"Well," said Moore, with a laugh, "I never drop a drink, so we cancel -that objection. We will have a tiny wet together socially as two honest -gentlemen should. We will drink health to Mrs. Dibble and all the -little Dubbles." - -"There is no little Dubbles, sir," answered the clerk, mollified in -spite of himself by Moore's charming manner. - -"What? No twins? That is an oversight, sir. Oh, well, we 'll be -sanguine, Dibble, for there is no telling what may occur in the future. -Accidents will happen in the best-regulated families, and I am sure -yours is one of the best, so cheer up and don't despair. Buster, you -devil, what is keeping you?" - -"Hall ready, sir, hall ready," replied the boy, who, having extracted -the cork from one of the stolen bottles, had carefully wrapped a cloth -around it, so that the label would not betray his secret to the enemy -while he was filling the glasses. - -Moore, taking for granted that the beverage decanted by Buster was the -poteen he had previously denied himself, watched Dabble eagerly as that -gentleman raised his glass to his lips, expecting the usual cough and -sputter to follow the first swallow of the fiery liquid. In this he was -disappointed, for the clerk drank calmly and with evident enjoyment. - -"What do you think of that whisky, Mr. Dabble?" - -"Whisky, sir? This is sherry," answered the clerk, "and quite a -respectable quality too." - -"How 's that?" asked Moore, in surprise; then, sipping the contents of -his own glass, he found that his guest was quite right. Meanwhile -Buster, from the concealment afforded him behind Mr. Dabble, was making -frantic gesticulations to his master, finally succeeding in catching his -eye. - -"What ails the boy?" muttered Moore, rarely puzzled to understand how -his empty cupboard could have furnished the refreshment Buster had just -put before them. - -"Eh?" said Mr. Dabble, sipping his sherry in a manner that gave the lie -to his recent announcement of total abstinence. - -"Sherry it is," said Moore. "Fault of the label, Mr. Dabble. Your best -health, sir." - -"It is very fair sherry, Mr. Moore, very fair," declared the clerk, -condescendingly, "but pardon me if I say it is hardly up to our level of -quality." - -"Is that so, Mr. Dabble?" - -"Yes, sir. Now I have some really superior sherry in my basket there." - -"Oh, law!" exclaimed Buster in an undertone. "'Ere is where Hi takes to -cover." - -And he tiptoed out of the doorway unnoticed. - -"You don't say so, Mr. Dabble?" replied Moore in an interested tone. - -"Indeed I do, Mr. Moore. I think I have time to show you," said Dabble, -rising as he spoke. - -"By all means do so." - -Dabble pulled his watch from his pocket as he crossed to the basket. - -"Gracious!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea it was so late. I have n't a -moment to spare. Good-day, sir. - -"Good-day," said Moore politely, as the clerk picked up the basket, not -noticing the difference in weight in the hurry of the moment, and -opening the door closed by Buster in making his escape, nodded a last -good-bye to the poet before going. - -Left to himself, Moore took another drink from his glass. - -"Where the devil," thought he, "did Buster get that wine? That boy is -certainly a wonder." - -A tremendous crash was heard in the hall below. Moore ran to the door, -and leaning over the banister sought to discover the cause of the racket -as up the stairs came Buster, running lightly in his stockinged feet as -any cat. Moore seized him by the arm. - -"What happened?" he demanded. - -"Mr. Dabble 'as fell downstairs, sir," replied the boy cheerfully. "His -n't hit hawful. You never 'eard such langwidge. Hi 'me shocked, Hi -am." - -"You little devil, you tripped him up." - -"'Ee can't prove it, so wot's the hodds if Hi did?" asked Buster, not at -all abashed at his master's accusation. "Hi think 'ee must 'ave fell -hover Mrs. Malone, sir." - -"Are you hurt, Mr. Dabble?" called Moore over the balustrade. - -"No," replied Mrs. Malone, from far below. "He's not hur-ted, but he -has broken all his bottles and the stairs is running over with sherry." - -"I 'd like to lick up the stairs," answered the poet. "Give him my -sympathy, Mrs. Malone, and tell him I send my love to the twins." - -"Have you the rint, Misther Moore?" - -"I 'm not dressed yet, Mrs. Malone." - -"Are you going to dress to-day?" - -"I am surprised at your indelicacy in asking such an immodest question -of an innocent and unmarried young man," replied Moore reprovingly. "If -you keep on I 'll feel it my duty to mention your behavior to Father -O'Houlihan. Oh, it is shocked he would be, Mrs. Malone." - -"Niver mind," answered the landlady. "You lave Father O'Houlihan to -me." - -"I don't know whether the good man will be safe in your hands after this -morning's revelation, Mrs. Malone. He don't look over strong." - -"Wait till I get hold of you, you rapscallion." - -"No, I can't wait," said Moore, slamming the door as he returned to his -own apartment. - -"Buster!" - -"Yes, sir!" - -"Explain this misfortune of Mr. Babble's." - -"Ho, 'ee 'll never know, sir, habout the sherry," replied Buster, -reassuringly. - -"He won't?" said Moore, still in the dark. "What do you mean, lad?" - -"Hi left 'im one full bottle, so hif 'ee should 'appen to fall hon 'is -way downstairs hit would be hall right. Hi 've got hall 'ee 'ad with 'im -hexcept that one bottle wich Hi feels has 'ow hit was a cruel shame to -waste." - -As the boy spoke he threw open the cupboard and exhibited his plunder -neatly arranged in two rows on the middle shelf. - -Moore swore gently in his astonishment and sat down. - -"Buster," said he, "have you no morals?" - -"No, sir, but Hi 'as the sherry." - -"Well, there is no use in sending it back, I suppose. It's six more -bottles to be added to the bill when I pay it." - -"Yessir, this his simply hour method hof obtaining more credit, sir." - -"Buster," said Moore solemnly. "You are a financier. We 'll have a -glass together." - - * * * * * - -Promptly at four a dapper little person, who moved with such lively and -mannered steps, even when walking at his slowest gait, that his general -demeanor was highly suggestive of a dancing master in business hours, -entered the house which was honored by the presence of Thomas Moore and -his faithful servant. This individual was a cobbler named Hypocrates -Slink, who hammered and sewed leather in a little store perhaps a -hundred yards farther down the street than the house presided over by -Mrs. Malone. He had red hair and a nose gently tinted with another -shade of the same color. His eyes were small, blue, and not entirely -guiltless of a squint; in fact, his chief rival in the trade was wont to -describe him as a cock-eyed impostor. This, being repeated to Mr. Slink, -had caused him to make remarks of a decidedly acrimonious nature in -reply, and as these had in their turn been faithfully carried to the -object that had drawn them forth, a bitter feud was engendered, the -result being that the neighborhood was frequently provided with -amusement by the verbal combats of the two cobblers, for, while physical -encounters seemed pending, as yet there had none taken place. - -Having knocked for admittance, Mr. Slink was duly announced and ushered -in by Buster, whose manner to one better versed in the youth's -peculiarities would have seemed suspiciously courteous. - -"Good-day to you, Mr. Slink," said Moore, pleasantly. "Is your health -salubrious?" - -"Quite werry, sir," replied the cobbler, approaching his patron with his -usual mincing step. - -"And have you the boots, Mr. Slink?" - -"I have, sir," replied the cobbler, exhibiting a paper-wrapped bundle, -nestling beneath his arm. "Here they are, sir, but the money, sir? You -promised cash, sir. That is to say, sir, I intimidated as delicatesome -as I could that I must have the coin, sir, before I could let you have -them, sir." - -"So I have been informed by my man," replied Moore. "Really, my good -sir, such suspicions are unworthy of you. Believe me, it is with regret -I perceive the taint of cynicism in an otherwise charming character." - -"Yes, sir," answered Mr. Slink. "Yes, sir. Them is just my own -sentiments, but I have a large family, and one that I may say, proudly -and truthfully, sir, is on the steady increase." - -"My sympathy to you in your misfortune," said Moore, hastily. "Ah, -England owes much of her advancement to her noble citizens. It is such -men as you make possible the Orphan Asylums, for without the young and -deserving what would become of such worthy institutions?" - -"Sir, you take the werry words out o' my mouth. Scarcely a day passes -but I says much the same thing to Matilda. You see, she being a mother -and a woman--" - -"The natural implication, believe me, Mr. Slink," interrupted Moore. - -"Oh, quite, sir. One usually follows on the other. Matilda is apt to -become downcast when she compares population with pocket-book, for as -one goes up the other goes down, so I made her a solemn promise after -the sixth that business should be placed on a strictly cash basis in the -future." - -"Ah," observed Moore, interestedly, "and did that encourage the good -woman?" - -"I think it must have, for our next blessing was twins, boy and girl, -sir." - -"Cause and effect is a most diverting study," observed Moore. "Now that -you have explained the reason for your insisting upon immediate material -compensation for your labor, I cease to regard such a stipulation as -insulting." - -"Yes, sir," replied the gratified cobbler. - -"But, Mr. Slink, have you thought of the result that might ensue if too -much encouragement be provided for so lofty an ambition as that which -stirs your wife's existence? Twins can be endured, but, sir, think of -triplets!" - -"Well, sir, I holds that there is luck in odd numbers," answered Mr. -Slink, quite unimpressed by the poet's argument and its obvious -conclusions, "so, if you 'll let me, I shall be delighted to enleather -your pedals, if I may make bold to so term your feet." - -"Just as you say, Mr. Slink; but, of course, before I part with my money -I naturally desire to be certain that the boots fit me." - -"All right," said the cobbler, undoing his parcel. "Sit you down, Mr. -Moore, and I 'll exhibit my wares." - -Moore took the stool brought to him by Buster, and the cobbler, kneeling -down, proceeded with sundry pulls and pushes to inclose his foot in the -new shoe. - -"Easy, easy!" said Moore, clutching the bottom of the stool, to keep -from being shoved off it. "You are not pushing a cart, even if you are -driving a bargain, Mr. Slink." - -"There you are," exclaimed the cobbler, sitting on his heels as he wiped -the perspiration from his wrinkled brow. "There you are. A beautiful -fit, or may I be unworthy of Matilda." - -"Your merit, Mr. Slink, has already been proved if your previous -statements are authentic," said Moore. "Statistics bear me out, my -friend. I am quite convinced you are a splendidly matched pair." - -"Well, sir, this other boot is just as good a match for the one you have -on." - -"Try it, Mr. Slink, try it. There is nothing like doing things -thoroughly. I know Matilda and you agree with me there." - -Slink obediently started to fit the other shoe, finding some little -difficulty in doing so, for Moore contrived to make the operation a very -difficult one, and for a purpose, as will be seen later. - -"You are an artist, Mr. Slink," said Moore, approvingly. "Look at the -boot, Buster. Did you ever see better?" - -"Never 'as 'ow Hi remembers. Oh, Mr. Slink his a tiptopper when it -comes to shoes heven if Mr. Smirk hallows 'as 'ow 'ee 's a bloomink -bungler," replied Buster, winking at his master. "But, hof corse, Mr. -Smirk, being a bachelor, 'ee hain't as careful as 'ee might be. 'Ee -says 'ee 'as no wife to beat 'im as hothers 'ee says 'ee knows hof in -the same business 'as." - -"If that baldheaded leather-spoiler means me, all I have to say is that -no decent woman would consider matrimonially no such rum-soaked old -ravellings as that same Smirk," replied Mr. Slink, puffing at his work. -"He has no pride in his handiwork. His shoes lack all soul, -spirituously speaking." - -"Pride," repeated Moore, with a grimace of discomfort. "That shoe will -have to be pried before I can wear it. Oh! It is tight, Mr. Slink, -cursedly tight, Mr. Slink. Were you yourself quite sober when you made -it?" - -"Yes, sir, I was. I always am sober, sir." - -"Then it is the wind that tints your proboscis that strawberry pink, is -it?" said Moore. "Suppose you have a gentle breeze with me. I 've a -new lot of sherry just sent me by Admiral Nelson. You must try it, Mr. -Slink. Just a little puff of wind? A squall more or less won't affect -the color of your nose." - -"I 'll be delighted, sir," replied the cobbler, getting on his feet. -"As I always says to Matilda-- - - "A little wine now and then - Is cheery for the soberest men." - - -"Ah," said Moore, "I see you are a student of the poets?" - -"That verse is of my own decomposition," answered Mr. Slink proudly. - -"I believe you," said Moore, suavely. "Your health, Mr. Slink, the -health of Mrs. Slink, and all the little Slinkers!" - -The cobbler emptied his glass and smacked his lips. - -"We forgot to drink your own health, Mr. Moore. We must repair that -oversight instanterly, if I may make so bold." - -"I 'm flattered," replied Moore. "Buster, fill the glasses again." - -"Splendid wine," remarked Mr. Slink, rather thickly for, if the truth be -known, he had treated himself twice at the ale-house across the street -before mounting to the attic, and this unwonted indulgence in addition -to the hospitality of the poet made an aggregate amount of intoxicants -quite a little more than he could comfortably contain. - -"You 're a judge of liquor, Mr. Moore, a gentleman and a scholar in the -bargain. I 've always told Matilda so, I assure you." - -"I am delighted to hear you say so, Mr. Slink. Now if you will take this -shoe that is tight back to the shop and have it stretched, I 'll pay you -for the pair if the one that pinches suits as well as this I have on, -when I try it on again." - -"Just so, sir," replied the cobbler, cheerfully, meanwhile getting down -on his knees to remove the unsatisfactory boot. "I 'll not be long, -sir. You can rely on my return, sir, within the hour." - -"That will be soon enough," said Moore. "Here is your paper, Mr. -Slink." - -"Thank you, sir," said the now thoroughly exhilarated shoemaker, -wrapping up the boot, as Moore resumed the well-worn slippers he had -temporarily discarded for the test of Mr. Slink's handiwork. - -"Good day, Mr. Slink." - -"Good day, Mr. Moore." - -"Oh, my best respects to Mrs. Slink." - -"Matilda will be delighted, sir," replied the cobbler, moving out into -the hall with a step decidedly uncertain. - -Moore gave vent to a sigh of satisfaction as the sound of feet died away -upon the stairs below. - -"But, sir," said Buster, inquiringly, as he shut the door, "wot use his -one boot?" - -Moore regarded his youthful retainer with a look of mild astonishment. - -"Don't you understand, Buster?" - -"Not Hi, sir." - -"Well then, I 'll not tell you. Demonstration is far more valuable than -explanation. So just watch me, my lad. A study of Thomas Moore when -hard up is a liberal education for the young and unsophisticated. You -shall be educated, Buster." - -"Yes, sir. Wot his it, Lord Castlereagh?" - -"Gr-r-r-g-h!" remarked the bulldog, warningly, at the same time sniffing -suspiciously at the crack of the door. - -"Is-s-s Mister-r-r M-M-M-oore in?" demanded a husky voice, -enthusiastically and persistently hyphenated by a decided stutter. - -"Hit's the hother shoemaker, sir," whispered Buster, recognizing the -thick utterance of the newcomer. "The one who spits on his words, sir, -before 'ee lets loose hof 'em." - -"Faith," said Moore, "it is a good thing the hall is dark. They must -have met on the stairs. It's a wonder we escaped bloodshed, Buster." - -"I s-say, is-s-s Mr. M-M-Moore at h-home?" repeated the shoemaker, with -a hiccup that was plainly perceptible within the attic. - -"Phew!" exclaimed Buster in an undertone, recoiling from the keyhole. -"Hole Smirk his loaded hup to 'is hears. You won't need to waste hany -of the Hadmiral's sherry hon 'im, sir. 'Ee 's fragrant, sir, that's wot -'ee his, hand it hain't no bloomin' new mown 'ay wot flavors 'im, Hi -tells yer." - -"Admit the gentleman," said Moore, opening the windows to their widest -extent. "A friend in need is a friend indeed." - -"A friend in soak his more like it," murmured the boy, opening the door -obediently. - -The big, bald-headed, redfaced man who had egged Bekowsky on to disaster -earlier in the afternoon staggered in with an oath and a hiccup so -entangled on his lips that neither he nor his hosts made any effort to -translate his greeting. - -"Good-day, Mr. Smirk," observed Moore, pleasantly. "You are looking -well, sir." - -"T-t-t-hat is-s n-no ex-c-cuse f'r keeping me w-w-waiting a month in the -h-h-hall," replied the intoxicated tradesman, thickly, endeavoring to -look offended. - -"We thought you were a publisher, my friend, and we always make them -wait a little while before we admit them," said Moore. "It has a most -beneficial effect upon their opinion of me as a writer. Independence is -frequently accepted as indicative of personal affluence, as you -doubtless know." - -Mr. Smirk looked a trifle dazed, and then, abandoning his effort at -comprehension, proceeded to get to his business without further delay. - -"H-h-have you the m-money for the b-boots, Mr. M-M-Moore?" he inquired, -holding his parcel behind him as though fearful that he might be robbed. - -"Ah, sir," replied Moore, suavely, "money fits any hand, but my foot -does n't fit every shoe. I 'll try them on if you are not too tired." - -"Y-yes, s-sir," replied Smirk, with difficulty unwrapping his package. - -"Your words are as slow as my rent," said Moore, sitting down. - -The cobbler dropped heavily on his knees, and losing his balance, fell -forward on Moore's lap almost knocking him off the stool. - -"It is n't time to lie down yet," said the poet, restoring the tradesman -to his equilibrium. "You forgot your prayers, sir." - -Smirk succeeded in getting one of the boots on without much difficulty, -but the other stuck fast in spite of the earnest endeavors of its maker. - -"Is it a straight jacket you have there, Mr. Smirk?" demanded Moore. -"Don't trouble to answer me. It will take too long. You will have to -have that stretched, sir." - -"Y-yes, s-sir," replied the cobbler, "that will f-f-fix it fine." - -"Take it along, Mr. Smirk, and have it attended to immediately," -directed the poet. "When I try it on again, if it's all right, I 'll -pay you for the pair. How long will it take you?" - -"I 'll be b-back in l-less than an hour, Mr. M-M-Moore, and see you have -your money r-ready." - -"Ready money is a nice thing," assented Moore. "Good day, Mr. Smirk." - -"G-g-good d-day," began the shoemaker. - -"Finish it outside," suggested Moore. - -"I w-w-will, s-sir," replied Smirk, and as he proceeded slowly and -unsteadily downstairs, the whisky-burdened tones of the cobbler died -away in a murmur and then ceased entirely. - -"Observe me, Buster," said Moore, boots in hand. "These boots are made -of one style. From Mr. Smirk I have procured one for my right foot; -from Mr. Slink one for my left. The two together make a pair, which is -the object I set out to accomplish." - -"'Ooray!" shouted Buster. "Hi sees. Hi sees." - -"A trifle late, Buster, a trifle late," said Moore, pulling on his -recently acquired spoils. - -"But, sir," said the boy, apprehensively, "they will both be back in a -little while." - -"Well, I 'll take pains not to be here then." - -"But they 'll watch hand ketch you sooner hor later." - -"That is all the good it will do them," replied Moore, cheerfully, -regarding his feet with no little amount of approval. - -"Hi knows, sir, but you never breaks your word, sir, hand you promised -to pay--" - -"_When_ did I say I 'd pay, Buster?" - -"When you tried on the other boot, sir." - -"Well, that is a simple matter, lad. I _won't_ try the other boot on." - -"Won't yer?" - -"Not I, and they will have a nice easy time making me against my will." - -"Hi sees, Mr. Moore," cried the boy, delighted at the discovery of a -means of discomfiting the cobbler without breaking a promise. - -Moore sighed. - -"Ah, Buster," he said sadly, "when luck comes we will pay all these men. -Till then they will have to give us credit, and if they won't give it, -we will take it, but for every penny I owe them now, I 'll pay them two -when I can afford to settle. I can do without wine, but without boots I -'d not earn the coin to pay any of my debts. I don't like such -trickery, heaven knows, but I must get on. I must get on." - -"Hif they were n't crazy fools, they 'd be glad to trust us," assented -Buster. "We 'll pay 'em when McDermot brings hout our book hof poems." - -"That reminds me," said Moore, "it must be almost time for me to hear -from that same gentleman." - -"Yessir. Say, does Hi get a hautograph copy?" - -"You do, Buster," replied Moore, smiling. "No one deserves it more than -you, I am sure." - -"A hautograph copy," repeated Buster, delightedly. "My, but that will be -fine. Hand I wants yer to write your name hin the front of it?" - -"Don't you know what an autograph copy is, Buster?" asked Moore, his -eyes twinkling. - -"That Hi does," said the boy, confidently. "Hit's one with gilt hedges -hall around it. Hi knows." - - - - - _Chapter Twelve_ - - _IN WHICH THE POET WARBLES TO MRS. MALONE_ - - -Rat-tat-tat! - -"Are you dressed, Mister Moore?" asked Mrs. Malone, her ear against the -crack of the door. - -Moore winked at Buster and motioned him to admit the landlady, who -entered with her accustomed independence of carriage, apparently -expecting and prepared for contention. - -"Ah, ha," said she, triumphantly. "You didn't thrick me this time, Tom -Moore." - -"On the contrary, I have been patiently waiting for your coming, Mrs. -Malone," replied the poet, politely. - -The landlady looked incredulous. - -"Where is the rint?" she inquired, belligerently. - -"Here in my dressing gown," answered Moore, exhibiting a long tear in -the garment mentioned. "A big rip it is, too. Have you your needle -handy?" - -"I wants no fooling, Misther Thomas Moore," declared Mrs. Malone, -drawing her bushy brows low in a ferocious frown. - -"Were you ever in love, Mrs. Malone?" - -"Thot is none of your business." - -"You forget your husband was my first instructor," said Moore, -reproachfully. - -"Well, I 'll be your last teacher, and I 'll give you instructions in -how to get up and get out wid your pile o' kit, bag and baggage, unless -I gets me rint." - -"You are Irish, Mrs. Malone." - -"Niver mind thot, sorr." - -"Sure, I don't mind, if you don't," replied Moore, "and if Ireland don't -object there will be no discussion on that point at all." - -"Whot are yez going to do? Thot's whot I wants to know, Mr. Moore? Is -it rint or run, me fine bucko?" - -"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Malone?" - -"I 'll not sit down, I 'll stand up." - -"Well, will you stand up till you get the rent, Mrs. Malone?" - -"I 'll sit down," replied the landlady, suiting the action to the words -so vigorously that the attic rattled. - -"Do you know, Mrs. Malone, I 've written you a song?" - -"I wants no song. I have no notes in me voice." - -"Faith," said Moore, with a chuckle, "we are alike then, for I 've none -in my pocket." - -"I wants me rint." - -"Be easy, Mrs. Malone," said Moore, in a conciliatory tone and forthwith -broke into song: - - "Oh, the days are gone when beauty bright - My heart's chain wove--" - - -"Where is the rint?" interrupted the irate landlady, but Moore continued -his singing, at the same time helping himself to a seat on the table -beside her. - - "When all my dreams by day or night - Were love, still love--" - - -"The rint is no dream," exclaimed Mrs. Malone, "and by gorry, I 'll have -it, me canary-bird." - - "New hopes may bloom, - And days may come - Of milder, calmer beam--" - - -"Not till I have ivery penny due me," asserted Mrs. Malone, turning a -deaf ear to the pathos and sentiment with which the poet's beautiful -voice was investing the simple words of the song. - - "But there's nothing half so sweet in life - As Love's young dream--" - - -"I 'll prefer the rint a t'ousand times," observed Mrs. Malone, quite -unaffected. - - "No, there's nothing half so sweet in life - As Love's young dream." - - -[Illustration: "There's nothing half so sweet in life as Love's young -dream."] - -As the words of the song died away in a sigh of sentimental melody, -Moore leaned forward and touched the old woman on the shoulder, hoping -that he had struck some responsive chord of memory in her recollections -of long-departed youth, but he was doomed to disappointment, for she -smote the table with one calloused fist and called upon the saints to -witness and sustain her resolve to accept nothing but the whole amount -of the money due her. - -Nothing daunted, Moore slipped off the table and standing behind his -determined creditor began another verse, throwing even more feeling into -his voice as he proceeded: - - "No,--that hallowed form is ne'er forgot - Which first love traced--" - - -"I 'll have that rint, Tom Moore, song or no song," interrupted Mrs. -Malone, but her tone was not quite so quarrelsome as before, and Moore -from this drew encouragement that lent double sympathy to his music as -he continued: - - "Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot - On memory's waste--" - - -"I wants me rint," remarked Mrs. Malone, but her voice had lost its -assertive defiance. - - "'T was odor fled - As soon as shed--" - - -"I 'll have me rint, Tom Moore," said the landlady plaintively. - - "'Twas morning's winged dream; - 'Twas a light that ne'er can shine again, - On life's dull stream--" - - -An audible sniff came from beneath the frill of Mrs. Malone's cap and -she cleared her throat noisily. Moore leaned over her and tenderly and -slowly breathed forth the last words of his song, the mournful cadences -stealing from his lips sweet and low and laden with tears, supremely -touching in their plaintive harmony, for he sang as though it was to the -hopeless love that filled his heart's innermost recess that he now gave -utterance. - - "No, there 's _nothing_ half so sweet in life - As Love's young dream." - - -The last words died away, and for a moment the old attic was silent. -Then Mrs. Malone rose from her seat with a stifled sob, and, wiping her -eyes, started toward the door. - -"And the rent, Mrs. Malone?" asked Moore, timidly. - -"You--you rapscallion," she said, brokenly, "to make an old woman like -me cry. Ah, bless you, Tom Moore, for it's the old days you 've brought -back to me." - -"But the rent?" - -"May your voice never grow less, Tom Moore. You--You--!" - -"Well, Mrs. Malone?" - -"You have me rint Satherday or there 'll be throuble." - -And, blowing her nose vigorously, the relenting landlady left the attic -to its inhabitants. - -"'O-o-ray! 'O-o-ray!" shouted Buster in a hoarse whisper, seizing Lord -Castlereagh by the front paws and dancing around in a circle in his -delight. "Till Saturday, till Saturday! 'O-oray! 'O-oray!" - -"Buster, from now on, we can never complain of these apartments as -expensive," said Moore, fanning himself by the window. - -"No, sir? Why not?" asked Buster. - -"Because I got them for a song," replied the poet. "A cursed bad joke, -Buster, even if I did make it myself." - - - - - _Chapter Thirteen_ - - _TOM MOORE HAS A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT AND AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR_ - - -Mrs. Malone opened the door suddenly, accompanying this action with a -vigorous gesture intended to represent an apology for the liberty she -took in omitting the knock. By this it can be easily seen that under -Buster's tuition the manners of the landlady were improving. - -"A gentleman to see you, Misther Moore." - -"Show the gentleman in, Mrs. Malone," said the poet, adding in an -undertone to Buster, "This must be a reception we are giving. We have -joined society without knowing it, lad." - -"This way, sorr," announced Mrs. Malone, with an elephantine duck, this -being the best imitation nature permitted her to give of a courtesy. - -Immediately a little, square-shaped man with an expressionless face from -which protruded two beady eyes in much the same manner that raisins -brighten and decorate the exterior surface of a plum-pudding, entered, -striding as pompously as though his height were considerably over six -feet instead of but a trifle under five. His face was clean shaven and -consistently grave and solemn down to the lower lip, where his chin made -a sudden and undignified attempt to obtain complete concealment in the -folds of his neckcloth. However, all in all, he was a neat little man, -though far from a beauty. - -"Er--er--ahem," he began with a little cough, meanwhile looking back and -forth from Moore to Buster as Mrs. Malone waddled out of the attic, -"_which_ is Mr. Thomas Moore?" - -"I am, sir," replied the poet, taking no notice of the new-comer's -intentional rudeness. "What do you wish with me?" - -"I--er--er--ahem--come from Mr. McDermot, the publisher. My name is -Gannon." - -"Indeed?" cried Moore. "Won't you have a chair, Mr. Gannon?" - -"I will, thank you," replied the clerk, for such he was, seating himself -with much dignity, a performance given a humorous tinge by the -unsuccessful attempt he made to cross his fat little legs. "I have -called at Mr. McDermot's request to see you about your poems." - -"You are more than welcome, I am sure," replied Moore. - -"Mr. McDermot has read the manuscript volume you submitted, and takes -great pleasure in saying he has never read anything better; _great_ -pleasure." - -Moore gave a sigh of relief and grew quite light-headed with delight. -Here was real appreciation. Genius was about to be recognized at last. -Ugly, ill-tempered, little Gannon became in the poet's eyes suddenly -invested with the beautiful characteristics and perfect exterior of a -cherub, a little over-grown and shapeless, perhaps, but nevertheless -cherubic. He wondered how he could for the moment have so greatly -disliked this herald of prosperity. - -"Mr. Gannon, you are thirsty, I know," stammered Moore. "You must be -after such a walk. I insist that you drink with me, sir. What shall it -be?" - -"Since you insist I 'll try a little port," said the clerk, obligingly. - -"Unfortunately," replied the poet, "that is one thing I have n't in my -possession. I'm like a loaded ship, sir, just out of port. But I 'll -give you something better." - -"Will you?" - -"I 've the finest drink in the world in that cupboard, sir. One that -will make life seem like a dream of blue sky and roses to you." - -"Er--er--ahem,--I am a _married_ man," observed Mr. Gannon, doubtfully. - -"This will enable you to forget that," said Moore in a reassuring tone. - -"I hope not," replied Gannon, suddenly waxing confidential. "The only -cloud in my domestic horizon was caused by just such a slip of memory. -What a recollection women have for such lapses." - -"For theirs or for yours, Mr. Gannon?" - -"For mine, Mr. Moore, for mine," hastily replied the clerk. "Ah, -women--er--er--ahem--are angels, sir, angels." - -"No doubt," said Moore, pleasantly, as he poured out the whisky, "of one -kind or _another_. This, sir, is the dew of heaven. You 'll never beat -this for tipple, Mr. Gannon. When I place this before you I show you -the greatest compliment in my power. Believe me, it is most precious, -dear sir, for it is the essence of Ireland. Each drop a tinted diamond. -Your health, Mr. Gannon." - -"Thank you, Mr. Moore, thank you," replied the clerk in a flattered -tone, raising his glass to his mouth. But the first swallow of the fiery -liquid sent him into such a paroxysm of coughing that Moore felt -compelled to slap him on the back hastily. - -"That's the way to drink such whisky," said the poet, approvingly. "It -makes it last longer." - -"Er--er--ahem," replied the clerk, taking advantage of Moore's own -imbibing to empty the contents of his glass over his shoulder -unperceived by his host. Buster, being at this particular moment just -behind the little clerk, received the whisky full in the face, and -feeling compelled on his master's account to resist the belligerent -impulse which demanded he should obtain immediate satisfaction from the -cause of his discomfiture, he sought with a smothered oath the seclusion -of the stairs, an exile into which he was immediately followed by the -bulldog. - -"What ails the lad?" asked Moore in astonishment. "I wonder if he is n't -well?" - -"Ahem--er--Mr. Moore," began the clerk in a businesslike tone, "permit -me to deliver to you the message of my employer. I really am pressed -for time, sir." - -"Go ahead," said Moore, seating himself on the opposite side of the -table near which his guest was sitting. "You may command me, Mr. -Gannon." - -"Mr.--er--er--McDermot--ahem--wishes me to inform you that your poetry -is delightful. The language is beautiful." - -"Yes?" said Moore, interrogatively, now in the seventh heaven of -delight. "Really, Mr. Gannon?" - -"Each metaphor he declares is as delicate as it is charming." - -"Yes?" - -"Your rhymes are perfect, Mr. Moore." - -"Yes?" - -"In fact Mr. McDermot wishes me to assure you that the highest praise -can be lavished on your work, Mr. Moore, the highest praise." - -"He is too kind, Mr. Gannon, he is too kind," cried the poet, rising in -his excitement. - -"He was delighted with your book, but--" - -Mr. Gannon paused, and looked solemn. - -"But what?" asked Moore, eagerly. - -"He cannot publish it." - -Moore stood looking stupidly at the little clerk for a moment quite -dazed. - -"Can't publish it?" he repeated slowly. "Can't publish it! Why not, -sir?" - -"Your work is most worthy," answered Mr. Gannon, "but who are you?" - -"I don't--quite--know," faltered Moore, stunned by the sudden casting -down of his so recently raised hopes. - -"Ahem--er--er--nor does any one else," continued the clerk, pitilessly. -"Mr. McDermot bade me say that to obtain success at the present time a -book must be dedicated to some great figure of fashion." - -"But I know none, sir," replied the disconsolate poet, sinking limply -back on his stool. "I know none, sir." - -"Just so,--er--er--ahem,--Mr. Moore," said Mr. Gannon, gravely. "You -know none; none knows you, so here is your poetry." - -As he spoke, he drew a bundle of manuscript from his coat-tail pocket -and tossed it contemptuously upon the table. - -"Good day, sir, good day, er--er--ahem,--Mr. Moore." - -And swelling out his chest with the importance properly attached to the -person of the bearer of bad news, little Mr. Gannon sauntered leisurely -out of the attic. - -For a moment Moore sat motionless and dumb, striving to comprehend that -the sudden downfall of his hopes was real. So quickly had he found -himself robbed of the triumph which seemed almost in his grasp that the -events of the last few moments were temporarily blurred and blotted in -his mind as the fanciful weavings of a slumbering brain often are when -consciousness is rudely restored to the sleeper and memory seeks to -recall the dream. - -"Done again," he murmured, softly. "_Done again_." - -Suddenly a great sob shook his frame, but he manfully choked back the -others which would have followed it. - -"My courage is gone at last," he whispered, as though he were not alone. -"I 'm beaten--I 'm beaten. Oh, it is bitter. All my bright hopes were -conjured up but to fade. A glimpse of Paradise shown to me, and then -this attic again. Ah, Bessie, Bessie, my heart is broken this day." - -For a second he seemed as though about to break down completely, but, -controlling himself with a great effort, he dashed the tears from his -eyes with the back of his hand. Then as he turned, his eye fell upon -the manuscript lying on the table where it had been thrown by the -careless hand of Mr. Gannon. - -"You are there, are you?" he cried, seizing it roughly. "You tempted me -from beautiful Ireland--you lured me here to this heartless, cruel -London, with a thousand sweet promises of hope and love and fame. You -'ve tricked me. You brought me here to starve--to die--to fail. Then, -damn you, I 'm through with you forever." - -He hurled the written book to the floor and groped his way to the -window, blinded with the tears he would not shed. The golden and salmon -hued glory of the sunset, painting the spires and house tops with a -thousand shades of flame, fell full upon his hopeless head, and -conscious of the horrible mockery of such a halo at a time when only -darkness and despair seemed to surround his existence, the poor fellow -buried his face in his arms on the window-sill and sobbed like a beaten -child. - -After a while, when the final bitterness of his grief and disappointment -had passed he left the window. As he crossed the room his eye fell upon -the rejected poems, which lay on the floor bathed in the crimson and -yellow riot of a sunbeam. He stood for a moment as though transfixed, -then as his heart filled with a sudden revulsion of feeling he knelt and -clasped the manuscript to his breast with a little cry. - -"No, no," he murmured brokenly, "I did n't mean it, I did n't mean it, -for _such_ as you are you 're _all_ I have." - - -When Buster opened the door a few moments later he found his master -sitting in his favorite arm-chair in front of the fireplace in which -flickered a tiny fire, lighted for the sake of its cheering influence as -the chill of fall was still at least a month away. - -"Well, sir?" asked the lad, hopefully. "Did he take 'em?" - -"No, Buster, he came to bring them back," replied Moore, quite calmly. -Buster made a remark as expressive as it was profane, which is saying -much. - -"Well, blow 'is hugly face!" he cried, in righteous indignation. "Hall -that fuss hand then 'ands 'em back?" - -"He did, Buster." - -"Oh, Hi wishes Hi 'ad a knowed it. Babble's tumble wouldn't 'ave been a -circumstance to the 'eader that little pot-bellied cove would 'ave -tooken. Hi say, Mr. Moore, will you call me 'Pride' after this?" - -"Why?" asked Moore, more cheerfully. - -"Because 'as 'ow Hi goes before a fall hand returns hafter it. Dabble -will swear to that, sir. Aw, don't let a measly publishing cove cast -you down, sir. W'y hall we 'as got to do is to cut McDermot dead when -we meets 'im on Pall Mall. That 'll ruin 'im socially." - -"You are a plucky little devil, Buster." - -"Yessir," replied the boy, sagely. "You see, Hi hain't got no gal to -worry me, sir." - -"Ah, my lad," said Moore, nodding his head with a sigh, "that makes a -world of difference after all." - -"There is some one hat the door, sir," said Buster. "Shall Hi tell 'im -you're hout?" - -"No, lad, I 'll be glad of company. Bid him enter." - -Buster obediently opened the door and a tall gentleman, magnificently -dressed, stepped over the threshold. - -"Is this the residence of Mr. Thomas Moore?" he asked, removing his hat -politely. - -At the sound of the new-comer's voice Moore started to his feet. - -"It is, sir," he answered, advancing a step or two. - -"Oh, how are you, Mr. Moore? You remember me?" - -"Lord Brooking; Sir Percival's friend," said Moore coldly. "I 've not -forgotten you." - -And he paid no attention to his lordship's outstretched hand. - -Brooking seemed a trifle disconcerted at the coolness of his reception, -but, recovering himself, he continued winningly: - -"You wrong me, sir. My intimacy with the gentleman you named has -declined to a mere acquaintance." - -"You are to be congratulated, Lord Brooking," replied Moore more -cordially. "Won't you sit down?" - -Then, as the young nobleman was relieved of his cloak and hat by Buster, -the poet went on: - -"I believed your lordship to be abroad." - -"It is my custom to pass six months yearly upon the Continent," answered -Brooking, settling back at his ease in the old arm-chair to which his -host had waved him. "To this, doubtless, your impression is due. As it -is, I only returned from there two days ago, so you see, Mr. Moore, you -are one of the first of my friends to receive a call from me." - -"I am honored," replied Moore, politely, sitting down on the other side -of the fireplace. - -"No doubt you are wondering what has brought me to see you?" - -"I can't deny a slight curiosity, my lord," admitted Moore, smiling back -at the young nobleman, whose charming manner was winning his confidence -in spite of his previous suspicions. - -"Then I 'll proceed to enlighten you without further delay, Mr. Moore." - -"If your lordship will be so good." - -"In Ireland a year ago Sir Percival offered little Mistress Dyke a -position at Drury Lane Theatre." - -"He did, curse him!" - -"Knowing the gentleman as I do, I promised my better self that, if the -young lady did come to London as the protegee of Lovelace, I would fetch -you here as mine, so, if the time came when she would require a strong -arm and a loving heart to defend her happiness, she need not go far to -find it. That very day I left Ireland and have since been abroad. Two -days ago I returned from Paris and found to my surprise that Mistress -Dyke _is_ acting at Drury Lane. Surely, you did not allow this -willingly?" - -"Not I, sir. I had nothing to say about it." - -"You mean she preferred Lovelace's advice to yours, Mr. Moore?" - -"We quarrelled, sir, and from that day--it was the one on which you left -the old country, my lord--she has had no good word for me. -Circumstances placed me in an unfavorable light, and, believing me -faithless, she turned a deaf ear to my warnings. Her father was daft to -come to London, and in her anger she consented to make the venture." - -"And you followed her here, Mr. Moore?" - -"Yes, sir, I made a pretence of studying law in the Middle Temple, but -it was wretched work which I soon abandoned. Since then I 've been -scribbling for a living and not achieving much success at it, though I -have done my best." - -"I see," said Brooking, reflectively. - -"Did Bessie give you my address?" - -"Not she," replied his lordship. "I 've not had the pleasure of -renewing my acquaintance with Mistress Dyke." - -"She and her father go everywhere," said Moore, proudly. "Thanks to Sir -Percival's influence, they have been received by society with open arms. -The old gentleman's poems sell, and Bessie is more than ordinarily -successful at Drury Lane." - -"I am not surprised at the young lady's success," observed the young -nobleman. "That of her father in the world of letters would have seemed -to me problematical had I not your assurance of his prosperity." - -"Then if Bessie did not tell you where I lived, how did you find me -out?" - -"I lunched to-day at Mrs. FitzHerbert's. There I saw a poem with your -name and address attached." - -Moore gave Buster a grateful glance which more than repaid that young -gentleman for his enterprise. - -"By the way, Mr. Moore, the verses I spoke of were charming. Mrs. -FitzHerbert read them aloud to the assembled company, who received them -with every mark of pleasure and appreciation. Mr. Sheridan was -particularly complimentary in his comments, while no less harsh a critic -than Mr. Brummell condescended to express himself as delighted. Have -you other poems, Mr. Moore?" - -"What is that, Lord Brooking?" - -"Have you other poems?" - -Moore's laugh was not untinged with bitterness as he opened the drawer -in the table, lifting from it with both hands a confused pile of -manuscripts which he dropped carelessly in front of his guest. - -"A few, sir," he remarked grimly. - -"But why are they not published?" demanded Lord Brooking, scanning -various poems through his eyeglasses. "They seem of uniform -excellence." - -"They are refused because I have no patron in the world of fashion to -accept the dedication. McDermot, the great publisher, told me so -himself." - -"Indeed?" remarked his lordship, meditatively. "Hum!" - -"Ah, if your lordship would permit me?" began Moore, eagerly. - -"I 'll do better than that," interrupted Brooking. "I 'll bring your -work to the attention of the Prince himself." - -"The Prince?" cried Moore, dazzled at the mere idea. - -"Yes, Mr. Moore, the Prince. Wales, in spite of his many faults, is a -curst good fellow, and quite a judge of poetry. He shall read specimens -of your skill. Fortunately Mrs. FitzHerbert, who still enjoys his -Highness's favor, is mightily at odds with Sir Percival. Moreover, she -was greatly pleased with the Rose poem you favored her with. I 'll get -her to exert her influence with Wales. Egad, Mr. Moore, we 'll do our -best for you." - -"How can I thank you?" faltered Moore, hope welling up in his heart once -more. - -Brooking rose from his chair. - -"You can repay me easily," he answered, placing his hand upon his -protege's shoulder. "Marry sweet Mistress Bessie and then keep her from -Sir Percival. The happiness your wedded life should bring you both will -amply reward me for any effort I may make in your behalf. If the Prince -permits me to dedicate your book to him the publishers will fight for -the privilege of printing it and your fortune is made, Tom Moore." - -"But we have quarrelled," said Moore, hopelessly. - -"Capital!" cried his lordship. "No woman tiffs with a man to whom she -is indifferent. It is the sex's sweet perversity. Then, again, Tom -Moore famous, for you 'll never be more than 'Tom' if success is -yours--the public loves a familiar diminutive, sir--will be a different -Moore from Thomas Moore unknown." - -"Ah, sir, you put new courage in my heart," said Moore, catching the -young nobleman's infectious enthusiasm. - -"I 'll put money in your purse, which is even better, lad," replied -Brooking, plunging his hand in his pocket, from which he drew it forth -filled with coins of various denominations. "Write me a sonnet to send -to my lady love." - -"I 'll do it gladly," said Moore, seating himself at the table and with -feverish haste drawing towards him pen and paper. "Is the lady blonde -or brunette?" - -Lord Brooking hesitated for a moment. - -"Curst if I know," thought he, "since I have never laid eyes on her." - -Then he continued, addressing Moore: - -"Brunette, dark hair and blue eyes, and a devilishly sweet and -mischievous mouth." - -"Very well, sir," replied Moore, dipping his pen in the ink. - -"One second, Mr. Moore. Here are five sovereigns in advance." - -His lordship dropped the coins upon the table as Moore looked up at him, -gratitude dumbing his tongue for the moment. - -"Finish the verses at your leisure," continued Brooking. "I am in no -hurry for them." - -"God bless you, sir," stammered Moore, finding speech at last. "You -have brought new life and hope to me this day. I 'll never forget your -generosity." - -"Tut, tut," said his lordship, hastily. "Never mind thanking me. If -all goes well you are to get married and be happy if you wish to please -me." - -"I promise I 'll do my best," replied the poet, smiling more cheerfully -than in days. - -"My hat and cloak, boy," said Brooking. "I 'll off to Carlton House, -where I am expected by Wales even now." - -"I can hardly believe I am the same man, my lord," said Moore. "You -have changed me completely, sir." - -"You 'll hear from me soon, Tom," said Brooking, hat in hand, as he -crossed to the door. "Be of good cheer, my lad, for if Wales will have -none of it, I 'll accept the dedication, and I flatter myself that will -be enough to insure publication for you. Good-bye for the present." - -"Good-bye, my lord," answered Moore, closing the door behind his -benefactor with almost reverential care. - -"Mr. Moore," said Buster. - -"Yes, my lad." - -"Was that Lord Brooking?" - -"Yes, Buster. Why do you ask?" - -"Coz Hi thought as 'ow he was a bloomin' hangel," said Buster. - -"Ah, lad, I 'm not sure that you are not right," answered Moore, and -there was no laughter in his voice. - - - - - _Chapter Fourteen_ - - _SIR PERCIVAL LOVELACE IS FAVORED BY FORTUNE_ - - -Moore lost no time before setting out to make a little payment on -account to all of his creditors residing in the neighborhood, so Buster, -left to his own devices, extended a broomstick towards Lord Castlereagh -in a manner tempting in the extreme. Being of a congenial and obliging -disposition, the bulldog secured a firm grip and then endeavored to -wrest it from his master's grasp. A rough and tumble tug-of-war ensued, -the finish being an aerial performance by Lord Castlereagh, who made a -flying trip around Buster as that worthy youth, exerting his muscle to -the utmost, swung stick, dog and all in a circle clear of the floor. -Having exhausted himself without accomplishing the release of the stick -from the bulldog's jaws, Buster had a brilliant inspiration and outraged -precedent by washing his face and hands, it being his custom to perform -ablutions only on arising in the morning unless detected and otherwise -admonished by his master. Before he had finished drying himself a -warning growl from his four-legged playfellow gave notice that some one -was approaching. - -Buster opened the door in answer to a loud knock and found himself -confronted by two elegantly attired gentlemen, who willingly entered the -room in response to his hospitable greeting. - -"Hullo," said Sir Percival, coolly eying Buster through his glass with -an amused smile. "Who are you?" - -Buster was distinctly pleased with the baronet. Sir Percival's stalwart -form was clad in the latest fashion, which set off his handsome person -to great advantage, but in spite of his distinguished appearance, his -manner in addressing the boy was so genuinely affable and good-natured -that it placed them in sympathy at once. Where Buster liked he was -prone to admire eventually; when he both liked and admired at first -sight he became like clay in the potter's hands. - -"Who am Hi, sir?" repeated he, "Why Hi 'me the Reverend Doctor Buster of -Hall Souls's Chapel." - -"Indeed?" observed Sir Percival. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, -Doctor." - -"We want none of your slack," growled the baronet's companion. - -"Tut!" said Sir Percival, "let the boy have his joke. Is Mr. Moore at -home?" - -"No, sir," replied Buster, giving a hard look at Farrell, for Sir -Percival's companion was none other. "'Ee 's never 'ome at such times, -sir." - -"What times?" demanded Farrell, gruffly. - -"Times wen 'ee is hout," replied the boy, delighted at having entrapped -the object of his dislike, for he was as much displeased with the young -man as he was favorably impressed with his more amiable companion. Sir -Percival laughed gently at his companion's discomfiture. - -"I am an old friend of Mr. Moore," he said to Buster. "May I wait till -he returns?" - -"Yessir," replied Buster. "You can make yourself comfortibble in my -habsence. I ham about to give his lordship a breather." - -"His lordship?" echoed Sir Percival. "May I ask whom you so designate?" - -"Certingly. Come 'ere, Pupsy." - -The bulldog gambolled across the room to the boy, and standing up on his -hind legs playfully attempted to bite off one of his trouser buttons. - -"Sich manners, hand hin front o' comp'ny too," said Buster, chidingly. -"Down, sir. Hallow me to hintroduce Lord Castlereagh, the champeen -fighter of the neighborhood. Say 'ow-dy-do, Pupsy." - -Lord Castlereagh obediently threw up his great head and barked -cheerfully in welcome. This done, he sat down on his haunches and -extended his paw, which the baronet shook heartily. - -"Who named the dog?" demanded Sir Percival, helping himself to a seat on -the stool nearest him. - -"I hasked Mr. Moore to suggest a suitable cognomy, hand that's wot 'ee -chose. 'Ee hallows has 'ow hit was wonderously happropriate, sir." - -"I quite agree with your master," replied the baronet. "You said you -were going out. Pray do not let me detain you." - -"Hall right, sir," said Buster, taking his cap from its nail behind the -door. "Mr. Moore will return from 'is drive in 'Yde Park in 'arf an -hour. Hi won't be very long. Come hon, Pupsy." - -Opening the door he hurried along the hall and down the stairs with Lord -Castlereagh yelping delightedly in headlong pursuit as Sir Percival rose -from his seat and strolled carelessly around the attic, humming softly -to himself as he prosecuted his investigation. Meanwhile Farrell, seated -in Moore's arm-chair, preserved a gloomy silence. - -"So," said the baronet, disdainfully, "this is the abode of genius? -Upon my word, as bare and unattractive a kennel as I have ever -explored." - -"You dragged me here against my will, Sir Percival," responded Farrell, -uneasily. "When you have satisfied your curiosity let us go. I have no -wish to encounter Moore." - -"Tut," said Sir Percival, reprovingly, "there is no necessity for our -haste, we saw the worthy gentleman leave here, Terence. Walking at the -rate at which he started he must be half way to Pall Mall by this time." - -"If he does not turn back," objected Farrell. "You can't be sure how -long he intended to continue in that direction, Sir Percival." - -"That can hardly be considered as a disadvantage," responded the -baronet, airily, "since it adds a pleasant tinge of risk to our -adventure which otherwise could not be termed hazardous, though what -difference discovery would make I really fail to see." - -"That is all very well for you," said Farrell, crossly, "but I want no -more such beatings as he gave me in Ireland. I was in bed a week." - -"You were suitably recompensed for your discomfort, Terence. Thanks to -you, Bessie and her father accepted my proposition to come to London, -turning a deaf ear to the impassioned explanations of the worthy but -misguided Thomas." - -"Oh, I 'm smart enough to accomplish the wishes of other people," -replied Farrell, bitterly, "but I cannot seem to materially advance my -own fortunes." - -"Yet, I see little reason for your dissatisfaction. Finding myself in -need of such a clever brain in London I brought you here ostensibly to -read law. You have the benefit of my popularity in the social world. -Surely for a young and unknown Irishman to be comparatively intimate -with the Prince's own set is an honor? You don't know when you are well -off, my young misanthrope." - -"That is as it may be," said Farrell, not at all impressed by his -patron's eulogy of the advantage afforded him by his present situation. - -"But," said Sir Percival knowingly, "think what an education for a young -and ambitious beau a close and personal study of George Brummell must of -necessity be. By the way he spoke very highly of you at Sam Rogers's -house only yesternight." - -"Did he?" asked Farrell, eagerly. "May I ask you to repeat his words, -Sir Percival?" - -"To be sure, my boy," said the elder man, genially. "Let me see. If I -recollect correctly, his exact words were, 'Young Farrell possesses -great sartorial possibilities now in a state of gradual but progressive -development, his innate refinement of taste being at the present time -slightly obscured and handicapped by a provincial anarchism of selection -due to youth's inevitable cheerfulness in the choice of color, and -rather crude harmonizing of shade.' There is a tribute for you, -Terence." - -Farrell flushed with pleasure. Secretly ambitious to outshine even the -great leader of fashion himself, he found his aspirations seriously -interfered with by the limited income allowed him by his patron. It -must not be thought, however, that Sir Percival was niggardly in his -treatment of Farrell. In truth he was far more generous than -ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have been under the same -circumstances, but it could hardly be expected that the allowance given -even by a free-handed patron to a clever protege would suffice to -dethrone such an all-powerful monarch of society as at this time was -George Brummell, familiarly known in the circle he graced as the Beau. -Nevertheless the handsome face and tasteful costumes of the young -Irishman had begun to attract some little attention in London society, a -circumstance that filled his heart with more than ordinary satisfaction, -for Farrell was clear-headed enough to see that the vogue of Brummell, -who was almost as renowned for wit and impertinent frankness as for -dress, even in his association with Royalty itself, must sooner or later -come to an end when by some characteristically insolent jest he should -lose the favor of the Prince of Wales, now his close friend and patron. -Some years later this very disaster apprehended by Farrell occurred, and -when the impoverished and heartbroken Brummell was starving in a mean -garret in Calais, it was the brilliant young Irishman, his pretensions -now supported by the vast wealth of the ugly old widow whom he had -meanwhile married, who reigned as first fop and dandy of the United -Kingdom, until the summer Sunday morning came on which he went bravely -to his death for slapping the face of Sir Dudley Brilbanke, who had made -a slighting remark on beaus in general and Brummell in particular, which -the successor to the unfortunate man then in exile felt bound to resent. - -In the meantime Sir Percival had been poking about on the table which -was still littered with the manuscripts thrown upon it during Moore's -interview with Lord Brooking. - -"To Bessie!" murmured the baronet in an amused tone. "Our rhymer wastes -a vast number of sheets in that young lady's name,--'The Meeting of the -Waters,' 'She is Far from the Land,' 'Oft in the Stilly Night,' 'Love's -Young Dream.' Will these ever see print, I wonder?" - -"On that I 'll stake my life, Sir Percival," responded Farrell. "Though -I dislike Tom Moore with all my heart, I know he is a genius in his -line. If he will only keep his courage in the face of disappointment -there is no man who will achieve more success in the writing of verses, -I feel certain." - -"Dear me," said Sir Percival, taking snuff, "if such is really the -truth, I 'll have to interest myself in his affairs again. Hullo, what -is this?" - -As he spoke, the baronet drew from the heap of manuscripts the verses -satirizing the Prince of Wales written and left in Moore's keeping by -Mr. Dyke, which the poet had accidentally taken from the drawer when he -flung his armful of rejected poems on the table before Lord Brooking. - -Sir Percival scanned the verses, his dubious expression changing to one -of great delight as he read on, until as he finished he laughed aloud. - -"What is it pleases you, Sir Percival?" - -"Egad, Terence, I 've happened on a treasure. A satire on the Prince. -Gad, he cooks Wales to a cinder. Listen, Terence. - - "'THE BRAIN OF ROYALTY. - - "It is of scraps and fragments built, - Borrowed alike from Fools and Wits,-- - His mind is like a patchwork quilt - Made up of motley, cast-off bits. - Poor Prince! And how else could it be, - His notions all at random caught, - His mind a mental fricassee - Made up of odds and ends of thought.' - - -"And so on for several more verses. The Regent has n't had such a -toasting in many a day. I swear I 'll have this published immediately." - -"Ah," said Farrell, "and why, sir?" - -"'T will ruin Moore," replied the baronet, regarding the other in -surprise. - -Farrell surveyed the attic with a contemptuous stare before answering. - -"Surely, Sir Percival, this shabby hole is not indicative of either -success or affluence," said he slowly. "One does not dig into the earth -to crush a worm under foot." - -"You speak in riddles, Terence," observed Sir Percival, pleasantly -puzzled. - -"I 'll make my meaning plain, sir. Tom Moore does not annoy you now. -Wait till he succeeds, if he ever does so, before you publish that poem. -The time to spoil his career is when he has accomplished something and -is about to climb higher. He is starving here." - -"Stab me, if you are not right, Terence," exclaimed the baronet, -approvingly. "I will keep this bit of humor in reserve, and you shall -be witness that I found it fresh from Moore's pen upon his table." - -"Willingly," said Farrell. "Meanwhile, continue your pursuit of -Mistress Dyke. Are you making progress there?" - -"As yet I 've gained no ground at all so far as I can see," replied Sir -Percival in a discontented tone. "True, I have apparently won her trust -and friendship, but that is because my behavior has been above -criticism. No young curate could be more circumspect and exemplary than -I have been. To tell the truth, Terence, I am cursed weary of being -respectable." - -"I can understand how irksome such restraint must be to you, Sir -Percival," said Farrell, carelessly, "but you must play your own hand. -I have helped you all I can in the securing of cards. My trick in the -school-house ruined Moore in the girl's estimation, thus clearing the -way for your approach." - -"Quite so," observed Sir Percival, cordially, "and since he is powerless -to thwart me I can take my own time about the chase." - -"Speaking of time, Sir Percival," said Farrell, rising to his feet, "we -can't linger here much longer. Come, let us go." - -"Tut, Terence," said the baronet, disapprovingly, "how nervous you are." - -At this moment Moore opened the door and, striding into the room, gave -an exclamation of surprise as he recognized his visitors. - -"Mr. Moore, as I live," said Sir Percival, gently. "Sir, we have been -waiting for you." - -"What do you want here, Sir Percival?" demanded Moore, gruffly, glaring -at Farrell, who was manifestly ill at ease. - -"I thought I 'd look you up for old times' sake," replied the baronet, a -sneer breaking through his smile for once. "Mr. Farrell came at my -request." - -Moore stepped to the door and opened it. - -"Then he will leave at mine," he said, sharply. "Get along, Terence, -before I do you an injury." - -Farrell did not hesitate. Waving his hat in farewell to Sir Percival, -he walked quickly out of the attic and started downstairs as Moore -slammed the door loudly after him. - -Sir Percival laughed good naturedly, and rose to his feet as Moore -returned from the doorway. - -"I called, Mr. Moore, to say that it has reached my ears that you are in -want. Is this true?" - -"I would want a long time before I would ask you for anything but your -absence," replied Moore, hotly. - -"If you desire to return to Ireland, I will be pleased to pay your way," -continued the baronet, suavely. - -"If you will go to the devil I will be pleased to assist in your -departure, Sir Percival. Hurry, or I may do it now." - -"You are not polite, sir." - -"My politeness would be wasted upon such as you," answered Moore. - -"That is a point that might be argued," observed Sir Percival in his -most genial manner. "Am I to regard your answer as final, Mr. Moore?" - -"Quite final. Now be so kind as to go." - -"If you desire it, with pleasure." - -Moore opened the door that Sir Percival might pass out and found himself -face to face with Bessie Dyke, who had paused on the threshold -preparatory to knocking. - -"You, Bessie?" he stammered, for the moment completely confused. - -Bessie was not at all embarrassed until, on entering, her eye fell on -Sir Percival. Then she blushed slightly, but after a momentary -hesitation turned to Moore and said: - -"I thought my father was here, or I should not have ventured up." - -"He was here a while ago and I expect him to return any moment," -answered Moore, eagerly taking his cue from Bessie. - -"A note came to the house for him marked 'Immediate,'" continued the -girl, ribbing adroitly, "so I thought best to follow him here." - -"Won't you wait for him?" asked Moore, pushing forward the arm-chair. - -"I fancy," said Sir Percival, "I fancy Mistress Dyke will not care to -remain here since her father is absent." - -"Why not?" demanded Moore, angrily. - -"This is scarcely the place nor the company for a lady to remain in," -replied the baronet. - -"When you go, Sir Percival," said Moore, more calmly, "the only -objectionable feature will be removed." - -Sir Percival did not deign to reply to this rudeness, but, stepping -towards the girl, extended his arm in mute invitation. Mistress Dyke, -however, had plans of her own, and was not to be thus led away. - -"I thank you, Sir Percival," said she, "but I shall wait for my father." - -Sir Percival raised his eyebrows disapprovingly, but was too wise to -insist further, so took his departure with a courtly bow to the girl, -and a sneering smile for Moore, who, quite unruffled, lighted an extra -pair of candles in honor of his visitor. - -As the sound of the baronet's steps died away in the hall Bessie gave a -sigh of relief and sank down in the chair. Moore hesitated, then taking -courage came to her side. - -"Ah, Bessie," he said, softly. "I 've been starving for a sight of you. -It is like the old times to see you again." - -"But," said the girl in a chilly tone, "the old times are passed and -done with. Nothing is as it was." - -"You are wrong, Bessie," said Moore, gently. "My heart is the same." - -Bessie rose from the chair and drew her shawl closer about her -shoulders. - -"Then it belongs to Winnie Farrell," she said in a determined tone. - -Moore winced as though he had received a blow. Nevertheless his voice -was clear and unfaltering as he answered: - -"Winnie Farrell is married to the man of her choice. Surely there is no -need to throw her name in my face when I tell you that I love you?" - -"You told Winnie the same thing," said Bessie, coldly. - -Moore gave an exclamation of pain. - -"I 've explained that misunderstanding a score of times," he said, -bitterly. "They tricked me that you might think me unworthy of your -trust and so be persuaded to come to London. Like a fool I walked into -the trap and you believed me faithless. On my honor, you wronged me, -dearest. I 've loved but you Bessie; you are all in all to me, -mavourneen. Won't you--can't you--believe me?" - -[Illustration: "You are all in all to me, mavourneen."] - -Bessie's lips trembled as she averted her face, but her voice showed no -signs of relenting as she answered: - -"Whether you love me or not matters very little to me, Mr. Moore." - -"The applause at Drury Lane has changed you, Bessie. You are like all -the others; one glimpse of the footlights and the rest of the world may -go hang." - -"Nonsense!" said the girl. "I don't care a snap of my fingers for the -theatre. I was never intended to be an actress." - -"I know," assented the poet, "you were meant to be Mrs. Moore, darling." - -"I think you are quite mistaken, sir." - -"How cold you are to me," cried Moore in despair. "Is it because--? No, -I can't believe _that_. Bessie, you don't care for Sir Percival?" - -"Really, Mr. Moore, I cannot discuss my private affairs with you," said -Bessie in a voice so cold and proud that Moore abandoned all hope of -moving her. - -"Then," he asked defiantly, "why have you come here?" - -Bessie turned to him with a little sobbing sigh of relief. She had -played her part well and kept up the artifice to the last moment -required by the object which she had intended to accomplish, but the -task had been more difficult than she had expected. - -"Why?" she cried, her voice thrilling with love and happiness. "To tell -you that you need battle with poverty no longer, Tom Moore. You have -won, Tom, you have won. Fame, fortune--all that you have dreamed of and -fought for so long--so patiently and courageously--shall be yours. I -bring you a message from the Prince of Wales." - -"From the Prince?" gasped Moore. - -"Yes, Tom. He accepts the dedication of your book. Lord Brooking sent -me to tell you the news." - -"You mean it, Bessie?" cried the half-frantic poet, as the door was sent -slamming back by the entrance of Lord Brooking with Buster and the -bulldog close at his heels. - -"Lord Brooking, is it true?" - -"The Prince declares himself honored by the dedication," replied his -lordship triumphantly. "McDermot publishes your book in a week." - -Moore gave a choking sob of joy as he groped his way toward his -benefactor. - -"At last!" he whispered, "at last!" and buried his face on his -lordship's sturdy shoulder, his eyes full of glad tears. - -"There, there, Tom," said the young nobleman. "It is quite true. Your -luck has finally changed. There shall be no more striving and starving -for you, my good lad. Your fortune is made." - -"Ah," cried Moore, turning to where Bessie stood, her hands tightly -clasped and her face radiant with gladness as she watched her lover's -realization of the truth. "You hear, Bessie? It's success, girl, it's -fortune and renown. Aye, fortune, Bessie. _Now_ you will marry me?" - -The girl turned white with anger and shame. Moore had made a fatal -choice of the words with which he re-declared his love, never thinking -his meaning could be misunderstood. - -"Tom," said Lord Brooking, warningly, but Bessie interrupted him before -he could put things right. - -"How dare you?" she cried, her cheeks suddenly flaming as she faced the -luckless poet. - -"Bessie?" cried Moore appealingly, seeing his error too late. - -"How dare you?" she repeated, her voice quivering as she stamped her -foot in her anger. "Fortune! You hurl the word in my face as though I -were to be bought by wealth. Do you think because prosperity has come I -must of necessity change my answer? You believe you could bribe me to -say 'Yes' with your success. Oh, how could you, Tom Moore?" - -"No, no, Bessie," cried the poet, "you know I did not think that." - -"Hush, sir," she answered, moving towards the door with downcast eyes. - -"I beg of you to listen to me, Bessie. You know--you must know--I could -not think what you fear?" - -"Let me go, sir. Lord Brooking, I appeal to you." - -His lordship touched Moore on the shoulder as the poet sought to prevent -the departure of the enraged girl. - -"Some other time, Tom. Words can do no good now," he said, softly. - -Moore withdrew his hand from Bessie's arm and she opened the door as he -stepped back. - -"Have you nothing to say to me?" he murmured, hoarsely, as she turned on -the threshold. - -"Yes," she answered. "I hate you, I hate you," and closed the door. - -For a moment Moore stood staring at the spot where she had paused; then -he turned with an oath. - -"You heard that, Lord Brooking?" he cried bitterly. "You saw that? That -ends it all. I 'm through with the old dream forever. I 'll go back to -Ireland. Back to the green fields and rippling brooks. I 'm through -with London. I 've starved here. It has broken my heart and I hate it. -In Ireland I will be with my friends--my own people. There I will -forget her. I will learn to hate her. Aye, to hate her." - -And he threw himself heavily into his arm-chair. - -Lord Brooking stepped quickly forward. - -"You are right, Moore," said he. "Tear her from your heart." - -"Yes," cried the poet, desperately. - -"There are other women much more fair than she. Go back to Ireland and -forget her." - -"I will, sir." - -"_Leave her to Sir Percival Lovelace!_" - -Moore started to his feet with a cry of protest. - -"No, I 'm damned if I do, Lord Brooking." - -"Ah," said his lordship, greatly relieved. "I thought you would change -your mind." - - - - - Book Three - - - -"_Oh! what was love made for, if it's not the same_ -_Thro' joy and thro' torment, thro' glory and shame?_ -_I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart,_ -_I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art._" - - - - _Chapter Fifteen_ - - _SETS FORTH CERTAIN EXPLANATIONS_ - - -Lord Brooking spoke truly when he declared that the dedication of -Moore's volume of poems accepted by the Prince would bring fame and -prosperity to the young Irishman, who had toiled with such enthusiasm -and unwavering diligence in paraphrasing and adapting the Odes of -Anacreon. Arrayed and ornamented by his brilliant fancy, owing as much -to their translator as to Anacreon himself, they were given to the world -and received with such choruses of commendation from both the public and -the critics that the reputation of Thomas Moore was firmly established -by his first book. Society delighted itself by showing favor to the -author it had hitherto neglected. Moore became a stranger to privation -and occupied the best suite in the dwelling presided over by Mrs. -Malone, who now was numbered in the ranks of his greatest admirers. In -fact the old woman seemed to take a personal pride in the social success -of her lodger, and followed with an enthusiasm worthy of a better cause -his course in the upper world as traced by the papers in their reports -of the diversions of the aristocracy. Moore remained quite unchanged by -his sudden good fortune. Never even in his darkest hour had he doubted -that he deserved success, and, now that it had come, he accepted it as -his just earnings and valued it as nothing more, though jubilant that -his merits had at last been recognized. His reception by the world of -society was more than flattering. Where he was invited first because he -was the poetic lion of the season he was asked again on account of his -own charming personality. Moore the poet opened the door of the -drawing-room for Moore the society man, who was forthwith made an -honored and much-sought guest. He sang his own songs in a melting -baritone that struck a responsive chord in the hearts of young and old -alike. His ballads were the most popular of the day. Romantic swains -and sentimental maidens warbled them on every possible occasion; but -none equalled in feeling and grace the manner in which they were -rendered by the hitherto unknown youth who had penned them. The grand -dames were often rivals in their attempts to secure the poet's presence -at their _musicales_ and receptions. The young bucks sought him as -guest at their late suppers, while the publishers bid against one -another for the privilege of printing his next book, as, in spite of his -gadding about from function to function, Moore contrived to find time to -continue his literary labors. Lord Moira, thanks to the glowing -representations of his nephew, made much of the poet, and through his -influence Moore became acquainted with certain of the great gentlemen of -the time who had but few moments to waste on social amenities, and were -therefore far more exclusive than the better-known figures in the gay -world drawing its guiding inspiration from Carlton House. Though Moore -did not lose his head as a result of the flattery and admiration now -showered upon him, it would have been strange indeed if he had not -secretly exulted over the triumph he had won. His almost juvenile -delight was frankly acknowledged by him in the long and loving letters -he wrote to the members of his own family, who in distant Dublin gloried -in the London victory of the firstborn. It was no odd or unusual thing -for the poet to be seen at three or four fashionable gatherings in one -evening. His presentation to the Prince of Wales, whose condescension -had made certain the success of the Odes, followed soon after the -publication of the book, and prince and poet were equally charmed, each -with the other. Moore seized upon this meeting as an opportunity to -tender to his Highness the thanks previously conveyed for him by Lord -Brooking. To his great delight, Wales graciously declared that he -considered himself honored by the dedication of the volume, and -expressed a hope that they might have the opportunity of enjoying each -other's society on many occasions in the near future. Moore came away -that evening belonging wholly to the Regent, for, when that noble -gentleman willed it so, no one could be more charming, and as his -Highness was distinctly taken with the clever and modest young poet, he -saw fit to be more than usually condescending and agreeable. He had -chatted genially with Moore on literary topics of present interest, -complimented him on the grace and rippling beauty of his translation of -the Odes, and warmly applauded the young Irishman's singing of several -of his own ballads. Taking all things into consideration, Moore had -every reason except one to be content with his present lot. That the -single disturbing element in his existence was the misunderstanding with -Bessie Dyke need scarcely be asserted. They met frequently in society, -for, thanks to the influence of Sir Percival, the doors which Moore had -pried apart by mighty effort with his pen, had opened in easy welcome to -the beautiful young actress, who, though coldly pleasant in her -demeanor, made no attempt to conceal her desire to avoid Moore when the -opportunity offered. As he, hurt and hopeless, made but little effort -to force his company upon her, they might have been comparative -strangers for all the evidence of mutual interest they gave at the -various social gatherings when they chanced to meet, so, though several -months had elapsed since Moore emerged from obscurity, no progress had -been made in his love affair. - -Sir Percival Lovelace had contemplated his rival's sudden rise to fame -with interest, not unmixed with cynical amusement, his humorous -sensibilities being rarely tickled at his own discomfiture, for this -pleasant gentleman was philosopher enough to extract cause for merriment -from his own disappointments and miscalculations. But the real reason -for the toleration exhibited by the baronet was the confidence he felt -that he had in his possession a weapon which, when he chose to wield it, -would not fail to utterly destroy Moore in the estimation and good -graces of the Regent, for Sir Percival felt certain that the loss of -royal favor would result in the social ruin of his rival. As he thought -he had ascertained by various means that there was comparatively little -likelihood of the differences between Bessie and her lover being patched -up, Sir Percival had held back the blow which he intended should -completely demolish the prosperity of the poet, deciding to allow Moore -to climb even higher on the ladder of fortune before knocking it from -beneath his feet, that a greater fall might follow. But meanwhile the -baronet had not been idle in other directions. Like many other -gentlemen of the quill, Robin Dyke imagined that he was possessed of -much ability in affairs of finance, and as numerous opportunities were -ever at hand for indulgence in such hazards as are afforded by stock -speculation to the unwary, he succeeded in quickly and secretly losing -all the money he made over and above the funds necessary to maintain the -modest little home tenanted by himself and daughter. After much mental -debating he mentioned his indiscretion to his patron, who, scenting -immediately a chance to secure a much-desired hold upon the foolish old -gentleman, at his own suggestion loaned Dyke three hundred pounds, -taking notes at ninety days' sight in exchange for the sum, stipulating -that the matter should be kept from Bessie. Dyke, naturally reluctant -to admit the previous ill-success of his investments to his daughter, -readily consented to accept this condition, and without more ado -proceeded to send good money after bad by repeating his financial -mistakes. This time he hesitated very little before acquainting Sir -Percival with his lack of success, and found no difficulty in securing a -further loan of another three hundred pounds, the investment of which -resulted in even more brilliant disaster than before. Sanguine ever of -ultimate success which should retrieve the losses already incurred, the -worthy but foolish old rhymer increased his indebtedness to Sir Percival -until he owed him in all one thousand pounds without Bessie having even -a suspicion of the true state of affairs. Time passed and the notes -matured, but Dyke, having no means of settling, frankly announced the -fact to his patron and received reassuring smiles in return, a reply -which fully contented him. The baronet affected to be quite indifferent -as to the length of the period he might have to wait for his money, and -told Dyke to take his own time in repaying him. This the old gentleman -proceeded to do and thus made possible the events to be described in -succeeding chapters. - - - - - _Chapter Sixteen_ - - _TOM MOORE SEPARATES A YOUNG LADY FROM HER SKIRT_ - - -It was at the splendid mansion of Lady Donegal that Moore first met Mr. -Sheridan. Introduced to the famous wit by no less a person than George -Brummell himself, Moore found not unworthily bestowed the reverence he -had felt from his boyhood for the brilliant but erratic Irishman whose -previous success in the fashionable world of London had served to render -less difficult the progress of his younger countryman when once begun, -and on this evening was laid the foundation of the friendship destined -to endure until the melancholy end of the elder genius. Mr. Walter -Scott, as yet famed only for his verse romances, for this was some years -before the fiery genius of Lord Byron, now a fat youth at Eton, drove -the genial Scotchman from the lyric field into the world of prose where -he has reigned supreme even to this day, was another notable with whom -Moore became immediately and delightfully intimate. The sturdy -intellect of Scott, who infused his vigorous personality into all that -flowed so readily from his pen, was delighted and amazed at the grace -and beauty of the Irishman's more delicate imagery, while the refined -and subtler fancy of the younger poet was filled with wonder by the -other's stirring, rakehelly border ballads. Scott was the sturdy, -gnarled, and defiant oak in the literary forest; Moore the tender, -clinging ivy, enfolding and beautifying all that he touched and lingered -on. No wonder, then, that their admiration should be reciprocal. The -intimate crony of these brilliant men, the hostess herself was a woman -of refined taste and much personal charm. In her Moore found a true and -admiring friend, and whenever he, for business or pleasure, was -compelled to absent himself from London, a delightful correspondence was -kept up, as pleasing to the great lady of fashion as to the poet, for -Moore, ever a favorite among men, was not less popular with the opposite -sex, no matter what their rank in the world might be. - -While he had good reason to treasure the friendship of Lady Donegal for -the sake of the brilliant acquaintances whom he met at her mansion for -the first time, even a more tender and pleasing opportunity for -gratitude was to be afforded him, for here it was that transpired the -series of incidents which resulted finally in his reconciliation with -Bessie Dyke. - -On the night in question Moore arrived in company with Sheridan and -Brummell, the two Irishmen having spied the Beau in a cab driving to the -reception at Lady Donegal's as they were making their way toward the -same destination on foot. They hailed the vehicle, and when the driver -had pulled up in obedience to a signal somewhat unwillingly given by -Brummell, climbed in with hardly as much as a beg your leave, making -themselves quite comfortable in spite of the remonstrances of the -crowded and berumpled dandy, the three thus reaching her ladyship's -great mansion together. - -Moore paid his respects to his hostess, then, after a brief session in -the card-room with Mr. Sheridan, which resulted in the enrichment of the -elder Celt to the extent of two guineas, made his way to a room usually -little frequented by the less intimate company, intending to give -definite shape in black and white to a new song as yet unwritten, the -garbled and uncompleted verses of which had been running and jumping in -his head all day. - -Much to his surprise, Moore found the writing desk in use, the young -lady who was busy scribbling being no other than Bessie Dyke. His first -impulse was to make a quiet exit, trusting to his noiselessness to -effect escape undiscovered, but reflecting that, as hitherto he had not -had so excellent an opportunity for an uninterrupted conversation, he -would be foolish to allow such a chance for attempting to right himself -in her estimation to go unutilized, he thought better of it, and so -remained, announcing his presence by a polite little cough, highly -suggestive of a timidity but slightly feigned. - -Bessie looked up from her writing, then continued her occupation until -she had completed her task. - -"Am I interrupting you, Mistress Dyke?" - -"Does it look as though you were, Mr. Moore?" she asked, tartly. - -"Not exactly," he admitted, not at all encouraged by her manner; "but -appearances are deceiving, you know." - -"I usually accept them as conclusive," said she, folding the sheet of -paper which she had just finished. - -"I know you do," said Moore, plaintively. "It is a bad habit to get -into." - -"No doubt you speak as an authority on the subject, Mr. Moore?" - -"On bad habits? It is a bad habit I have of speaking, you mean, -Mistress Dyke?" - -Bessie nodded and turned toward him, resting one chubby elbow upon the -desk. - -"How London has changed you," sighed Moore, regretfully, shaking his -head as he spoke. - -"And you?" said the girl in a critical tone. "Surely Mr. Thomas Moore, -the friend of the Prince, is very different from an unknown Irish -rhymer?" - -"Rhymer?" repeated he. "I see you have been talking with Sir Percival." - -"To be sure," said Bessie. "So pleasant and witty a gentleman is worthy -of attention." - -Moore sighed, and drawing a chair nearer to the desk sat down and -crossed his legs comfortably. - -"See here, Bessie," he said in his most persuasive tones, "why should we -quarrel in this foolish fashion?" - -The girl laughed in rather an embarrassed way and shifted a little on -the chair. - -"If there is some other fashion in which you would prefer to quarrel, -perhaps it will be as acceptable as this," she replied, lightly. - -"Will you never be serious?" demanded the poet. - -"Why should I be serious, sir?" - -"To please me, if for no other reason." - -"Ah, but why should I wish to please you, Mr. Moore?" - -"It is a woman's duty to make herself agreeable." - -"Not to every impudent young versifier who thinks to do her honor with -his attention," replied Bessie, smiling mischievously as she rebuked an -unruly ringlet with one dimpled hand. - -"But I have no such idea," protested Moore, quite baffled by her -behavior. - -"No? Surely a young man who proposes marriage to two different girls in -one afternoon must think very well of himself?" - -Moore groaned, and gave the girl an appealing glance that failed to -accomplish anything. - -"Ah, Bessie, you have no heart!" - -"Have you, _Mr. Moore_?" - -"You have had it these two years, Bessie," he replied, fervidly. - -"You are quite mistaken, sir," quoth she, in tones of conviction. "I -would have no use for such a thing, so would not accept it. You are -thinking of some other girl, _Mr. Moore_." - -"I am thinking of you, Bessie." - -"Then you are wasting your time, _Mr. Moore_, and I 'll thank you to say -'Mistress Dyke' in the future when you address me." - -"I 'd like to say 'Mrs. Moore,'" replied the poet. - -"What did you say, sir?" she demanded shortly, an angry flash in her -eyes. - -"I said I 'd know more some day." - -"That is certainly to be hoped," said Bessie. "One should be sanguine, -no matter how futile such cheerfulness may appear at the present time." - -So far Moore had succeeded but poorly in breaking down the girl's -reserve, and though painfully conscious of his failure, was nevertheless -quite resolved that the interview should not end with their present -attitudes unaltered. - -That she herself was not averse to listening to his arguments this -evening was already fully proved, for she had made no effort to conclude -their conversation, and in fact seemed waiting with no little interest -for the next attempt he might make to restore himself to his old-time -place in her regard. - -"Mistress Dyke," began Moore, hopefully, favoring the girl with a look -as languishing as love could make it, "do you know what your mouth -reminds me of as you sit there?" - -"Cherries?" suggested the girl promptly. "I believe that is the usual -comparison made by lame-witted poets." - -"No, indeed. Cherries conceal pits, and, as you no doubt remember, -Joseph fell into one. Now I am no Joseph." - -"No," said Bessie. "You are more like Charles Surface, I fancy." - -"Never mind mixing the Drama with this conversation," replied Moore, -chidingly. "Forget for a moment that you are an actress and remember -you are a woman, though no doubt it amounts to the same thing." - -"Well, what _does_ my mouth remind you of, Mr. Moore?" asked the girl, -her curiosity getting the better of her. - -"Of better things, Mistress Dyke." - -"Indeed? What may they be, sir?" - -"Kisses," replied the poet lightly. "Ah, Bessie, it is glad that I am -that your mouth is no smaller." - -"And why so?" she asked, suspiciously. - -"The smaller a woman's mouth, the greater the temptation." - -[Illustration: "'The smaller a woman's mouth, the greater the -temptation,' said Moore."] - -"Is that what you call me?" - -"Your mouth, my dear. Alluring is no name for it. Temptation? Aye, -that it is. Twin ribbons of rosy temptation, or I 'm no Irishman." - -"We won't dwell upon that subject," announced Bessie. - -"If I were a honey-bee, I 'd live and die there," said Moore, sincerely. - -"Where?" asked the girl. - -"On the subject, _if I were a honey-bee_." - -"The subject is closed," she answered, compressing her lips in anything -but an amiable expression. - -"I don't like it so well that way." - -"How you like it does not interest me at all, sir." - -"Now I wish to speak to you seriously," said Moore with becoming -gravity. "Please give me your attention." - -"I am listening, sir," she answered, a trifle uneasily. - -"Very well, then. Don't you think women should try to make men better?" - -"Yes." - -"And to reduce their temptations?" - -"Yes." - -"Then, for instance, if you had a loaf of bread you did not need and -knew a man was starving for it, would n't you rather give it to him than -have him steal it and be responsible for the sin?" - -"Yes," said Bessie, "I would, undoubtedly." - -"Ah," exclaimed Moore, happily, "then if I tell you I am starving for a -kiss and feel afraid I may steal it, you will give me one to put me out -of temptation?" - -"On the contrary, I shall request you to cease talking nonsense, and -suggest that you had better sit down." - -"I will, if it pleases you," replied Moore, smiling sweetly at the girl, -as he resumed the chair from which he had risen in his eagerness a -moment before. - -"Oh," said Bessie, in a sarcastic tone, "you think you are very clever, -don't you?" - -"Why should I deny it? A good opinion is like charity, and should begin -at home." - -"Does any one else think you are clever, Mr. Moore?" - -"I don't know," answered the poet cheerfully; "but if they do not, it -only makes my opinion more valuable on account of its rarity." - -Bessie was compelled to smile by this ingenious argument, and sought -refuge behind her fan; but Moore, seeing he had scored, followed up his -success resolutely. - -"As you say," he continued, "I am clever." - -"But," said Bessie indignantly, "I did not say that." - -"You forget," replied Moore, loftily, "that a man's opinion of what a -woman thinks is based largely on what she does not say." - -"You surprise me, Mr. Moore. Pray explain your last assertion." - -"Well, then, for example, I linger by your side and you do not say 'Go -away,' so my opinion is that you wish me to remain." - -"Oh," exclaimed Bessie, shocked at the mere idea of such a thing. - -"You do not say 'I hate you,' so my opinion is that you l--" - -"Mr. Moore," cried Bessie, sternly, and the poet diplomatically allowed -her interruption to finish his remark. - -"Men are so foolish," observed the girl, knitting her brows in sad -contemplation of masculine idiocy. "Really it is quite saddening when -one considers their stupidity." - -"And yet," said Moore, "if we were not such fools you wise little ladies -would find it much more difficult to work your wills." - -"I am not so sure of that," said Bessie, with a sniff of superiority. -"Men are great nuisances at best." - -"Had you rather I went away?" asked Moore, in his most honeyed accents. -"Shall I go?" - -"You must suit your own inclination, sir," replied Bessie, too clever to -be so entrapped. - -"And you?" he returned. "Can't you say 'I wish you to stay'?" - -"No, Mr. Moore." - -"And why not, Mistress Dyke?" - -"Girls do not say such things to men." - -Moore sighed regretfully. - -"I wish they did," said he. "Don't you like me at all any more?" - -"Not very much," replied Bessie, with seeming frankness. - -"Won't you smile at me?" - -"No," said Bessie, determinedly, "I will not." - -As she spoke she turned away from the poet, but he was not to be so -easily defeated. - -"Bessie," he whispered tenderly. "Smile at me, dearest, smile just -once." - -"No," she answered firmly, "I will not. I don't have to smile if I -don't wish to, do I?" - -But, alas for her determination, as she replied her eyes met those of -Moore; the twinkling merriment which she read in her lover's gaze was -too much for her gravity, and so, in spite of her effort to keep a sober -face, she smiled back at him, and if it was not the love-light that -shone beneath her long lashes, it was a something so entirely like it -that a wiser man than the young Irishman would have been pardonable for -making such a mistake. - -"Oh," he said, lovingly triumphant, "what do you think about it now?" - -"Well," said Bessie, in quick equivocation, "I wanted to smile then. -You are very ridiculous, Mr. Moore." - -"You make me so, Bessie." - -"What did I tell you about that name?" she demanded, rising to her feet. - -"I forgot, Bessie," he replied defiantly. - -"If that is the case you shall have the opportunity to recall it to -mind," said she, sternly, at the same time moving towards the door. But -her foot caught in her skirt and as she recovered her balance with a -little cry there was an ominous sound of ripping plainly heard. - -"There," cried Bessie in a rage, "I 've stepped on a ruffle. It is all -your fault, Tom Moore." - -"Of course it is," replied the poet. "It always is, as we both know." - -Bessie, meanwhile, had investigated the extent of the damage she had -sustained. The lace ruffle on her underskirt had been torn off for at -least two feet. The thing was utterly ruined, and, gritting her teeth -as she realized this, Bessie tried to tear off the loose piece. This, -however, proved to be beyond her strength, so, abandoning the attempt -with an exclamation of rage, she stamped her foot in anger. - -"Let me help you," said Moore politely. "No doubt, I can break the -plaguey thing, Mistress Dyke." - -[Illustration: "I can break the plaguey thing, Mistress Dyke.] - -"You are the cause of all the trouble," said Bessie, crossly. - -"All the more reason, then, for letting me help you repair the damage. -You can't dance with that trailing in front of you." - -Moore took the end of the ruffle which Bessie held out to him, and, -securing a firm grip upon it, marched across the room, thus ripping off -the entire bottom of the skirt. - -"Thank you," said Bessie, more graciously, extending her hand for the -torn piece. - -Moore shook his head and held the ruffle behind him. - -"Give it to me, sir," exclaimed the girl indignantly. - -"It is the foam on the wave of loveliness," declared the poet, waving -his prize as though it were a pennant, but carefully keeping it out of -Bessie's reach. - -"You cannot have it, sir," she said, sternly. - -"Women are enveloped in mystery," he continued, quite unrebuked, "yards -of it. If there is anything I love, it is mystery, so I 'll keep this -for myself." - -"Why?" - -"For a souvenir. Think of the memories associated with it, Bessie." - -"What good will it be to you?" she asked, rather more pleasantly. - -"It would be a great success as a necktie," Moore went on, draping it -beneath his chin. "Thusly, for instance, or I might wear it on my arm, -or next my heart." - -"Give me that ruffle," cried Bessie, snatching at it as she spoke, and -by good luck catching it. - -"Let go," commanded Moore. "If you don't I 'll kiss your hands for -you." - -"Oh, no, you won't." - -But he did. - -"Please," pleaded the girl, not letting go. - -"I don't intend to keep it, Bessie, on my word of honor." - -Confident that she had secured her object, the girl released the ruffle -and stepped back. - -"Thank you, Mr. Moore," said she, waiting expectantly. - -"Oh, not at all, Mistress Dyke. What are you waiting for?" - -"For that." - -"But you do not get this, Mistress Dyke." - -"But you promised, sir." - -"I did not say I would _give it to you_," explained Moore, genially. "I -merely promised that I would _not keep_ it. Well, I won't. I happen to -have your card in my pocket--it's a wonder it is n't the mitten you have -presented me with so often--and this card I shall pin on the ruffle, -which I shall then hang on this candelabra, where it will remain until -found by some one, and what they will think of you then is beyond my -power to imagine." - -Moore suited the action to the word as he spoke, and the bundle of -frills was securely perched on the candle-rack protruding from the wall -a good seven feet from the floor before Bessie fully realized how -completely she had been outwitted. - -Then she lost her temper entirely. - -"You cheat," she cried furiously. "Oh, I should have known better than -to trust you." - -"Certainly you should," replied the poet, politely agreeing with the -irate damsel. "I was surprised myself at the simplicity of your -behavior." - -"However," she continued, "I shall never believe you again." - -"Never?" - -"_Never_, Mr. Moore, and I am very angry with you." - -"Really?" asked he. "Why, whoever would have suspected it, Bessie?" - -"Luckily I can get it without your assistance," she went on. "You are -not half so smart as you imagine." - -"Of course not," observed Moore, watching her as she stood on tiptoe and -vainly endeavored to reach the cause of all the trouble. "Take care, -Bessie, or you 'll tear something else." - -The girl was baffled only for the moment, for directly beneath the -candelabra stood the desk at which she had been writing a few moments -before. As the top, which when open formed the writing table, was let -down, it was an easy thing for her to step up on it from the seat of a -chair, and then from there to the top of the desk. This was what Bessie -did as quickly as was possible, for she was considerably handicapped in -her climbing by her long train. - -"There is nothing like independence," remarked the poet, observing her -with a broad smile, as she performed this manoeuvre and stood in triumph -on the desk. "Like marriage, it usually begins with a declaration and -ends with a fight. It did in America." - -"You imagine you are witty," said Bessie, in icy tones, picking the -ruffle from its perch on the candelabra. - -Moore stepped quickly forward and shut up the desk. This done he -removed the chair by which she had mounted and had her completely at his -mercy. - -"And you," he said pleasantly, "imagine you are independent." - -Bessie turned carefully and discovered her plight with a little -exclamation of dismay. - -"Put that chair back and open this desk immediately," she commanded -sternly. - -"The chair is doing very well where it is," replied Moore, calmly -sitting down upon it. - -Bessie bit her lip in anger. - -"It is not customary for a gentleman to sit while a lady remains -standing." - -"Nor is it usual," answered Moore, "for a lady to climb up on a desk." - -[Illustration: "Nor is it usual for a lady to climb up on a desk," said -Moore.] - -"You think you know a lot about women, don't you?" - -"I am always willing to learn more," responded the victorious poet, -blithely. - -"Oh, dear," sighed the girl, "I don't dare jump with these high-heeled -slippers on." - -"I observe that your tastes are elevated, even in shoes. Give me the -ruffle and I 'll help you down." - -"No, sir, you shall not have it." - -"Hurry, I think I hear some one coming," exclaimed Moore in an alarmed -tone. - -"Do help me down." - -"The ruffle first." - -"Oh, there you are," she cried, abandoning herself to utter defeat as -she tossed him the bribe he demanded. - -Once safely on the floor, Bessie ran lightly to the entrance leading to -the adjoining room and peeped out to see who was approaching. Much to -her astonishment she discovered no one near, then, turning, read in -Moore's laughing eyes how cleverly she had been tricked. - -"There is no one coming," she said severely. - -"Is there not?" asked the poet, stowing away the prize he had won in his -coat-tail pocket. "Shall I help you up on the table again?" - -Bessie looked daggers at him, but he smiled blandly back at her in -innocent good-nature. - -"I am very angry with you," she announced, decisively. "Really, Mr. -Moore, your behavior is perfectly intolerable." - -"And why are you so provoked? Because I took your ruffle?" queried the -poet. "Why angry, since I left the skirt?" - -"Mr. Moore!" she cried warningly. - -"Well, Mistress?" - -"Be careful, sir!" - -"I do not have to be," he answered, "but you are very different. Now -you dare not be long cross." - -"Oh, don't I, indeed? And if I dare not, what is the reason, sir," she -demanded in a tone as sarcastic as she could make it, though this, it -must be admitted, was not saying much. - -"Because," he said, slowly and coolly, "if you do let your temper get -the better of you the skirt is liable to follow the ruffle into my -possession." - -"Insolent," exclaimed the girl, sitting down and carefully turning her -back towards her tormentor. - -That she was very angry with Moore cannot be doubted. Probably it was -because she was so exasperated at his behavior and so desirous of being -plagued no further by him that she remained in this secluded nook -instead of returning to the adjacent rooms, the greater number of which -were thronged with guests. Certainly her staying where she was could not -be regarded as anything but indicative of a sincere desire to be rid of -his company. Unfortunately this very evident fact was not plain to the -poet, for he proceeded quite as though he interpreted her tarrying as -proof of his own success in providing her with pleasant diversion, a -grievous error, as any one conversant with the real state of affairs -would have admitted. - -"Lady Donegal is a delightful hostess, is n't she, Mistress Dyke?" - -"At last you have suggested a subject on which we can agree," replied -Bessie, stiffly. - -"Oh, I can suggest another," said Moore, trying to catch her eye, an -undertaking Bessie rendered a failure by resolutely turning her head -away. - -"What is that, Mr. Moore?" - -"You know I think you are very pretty, Bessie." - -"As though I care what you think." - -"And I know _you_ think you are very pretty, so we agree again." - -"You think I am conceited." - -"I know you have good reason to think well of yourself," answered Moore, -sweetly. - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"Indeed, ma'am, for are you not favored with the undying devotion of one -Thomas Moore?" - -"Oh," said Bessie, disappointed. - -Moore approached her chair and, circling round it, tried to make her -look him in the face, but she foiled all his attempts by twisting from -side to side like a sulky schoolgirl. - -"You 'll choke yourself, Bessie," he said, apprehensively. "You 'll have -a neck like a corkscrew before long." - -"There would be no danger if you would cease intruding yourself upon my -meditation," snapped the girl, crossly. - -"'She who meditates is lost,'" quoted the poet. "Ah, Bessie darlin', -look around at me. Won't you, Bessie? Do, there's a dear." - -"I am not to be fooled by your blarneying tongue, Mr. Moore. I, too, am -Irish." - -"You don't behave like it," said he. - -"You do not regulate my behavior, sir." - -"I wish I did," remarked Moore. "I could improve it a good deal without -much effort." - -"You need not trouble." - -"Oh, no trouble at all, I assure you." - -"Your assurance is the best part of you, Mr. Moore." - -"I could n't say what part of you is the best, dearest," he answered in -a soothing tone, that only made the girl more angry. "Collectively you -outclass any colleen in the Kingdom. Now will you look around at me?" - -"No." - -"You won't? If you do not behave I will have to punish you." - -"_You_ punish _me_?" she repeated scornfully. "You forget yourself, Mr. -Moore." - -"That is because when I am near you I can think of no one else. If you -don't look around and bestow on me one of your sweetest smiles I shall -not permit you to leave the room." - -"I 'll go the moment I am ready." - -"Oh, no you won't, if I decide to make you my prisoner," he predicted. -"Your last chance, my dear young lady; will you do as I ask?" - -"Not I, Mr. Moore," she answered, keeping her face resolutely turned -from him. This was what he desired, for without attracting her -attention he lifted the hem of her dress, and putting perhaps a foot of -the skirt in one of the drawers of the desk, shoved it shut and locked -it, thus effectually tethering her. She heard the click of the key, but -not suspecting the cause of the noise, continued her inspection of -vacancy, while Moore, bubbling over with his merry triumph, retired to -the opposite side of the room. - -"You are locked up now, Bessie," he announced with a chuckle. "If you -will cast your eye to the left you will see how securely I hold you." - -Bessie, her curiosity aroused by the satisfaction perceptible in the -poet's voice, rose, intending to investigate the state of affairs from -the centre of the room. A sudden tug at her dress which nearly tilted -her over backwards on her little high heels brought her to an astonished -standstill, and turning, she perceived the result of Moore's scheming. - -"How dare you?" she cried, this time really angry. - -"I hardly know myself," he answered gayly. "I think it must be the -courage of despair." - -Meanwhile the girl had made several unsuccessful attempts to withdraw -her dress from the closed drawer, and, abandoning the effort, turned in -maidenly fury upon her captor. - -"You wretch!" - -"You are locked in, Bessie, dear." - -"Give me the key instantly, Mr. Moore. Do you hear?" - -"Yes," replied the poet. "I hear." - -"I never saw such a fellow," she began, but he interrupted her blandly. - -"There is none like me," he asserted. - -"A very fortunate thing for the world, sir." - -"But, Bessie, think how many poor young girls there are just pining for -such a love as I 've offered you, and who will never have the luxury, -since there is only one Moore." - -"I did n't know you could be so horrid," she said, her voice trembling -with anger. - -"Oh, I can be even more so," he answered. "In fact, if I want to, I can -be about the horridest person there ever was." - -"I believe you," she said sincerely. "Once I did rather like you--" - -"Indeed? You concealed it amazingly well." - -"--but, now I--I--" - -"Well, what now?" - -"I fairly hate you," she stormed, tugging impatiently at her skirt. - -"I am not surprised to hear you say that, Bessie. What is it the poet -says?" - -"I abominate all poets." - -"Let me see. I have it. - - "'What ever's done by one so fair - Must ever be most fairly done--' - -"Even hating, Bessie." - -"I 'll call for help unless you release me instantly," she threatened. - -"Do you wish everybody to say you were so saucy to me that I had to lock -you up? To the ordinary observer, less appreciative of your beauty, you -might appear rather ridiculous tethered here. Think how pleasant that -would be for all the other young girls, who are already envious of your -superior attractions." - -This supposition was altogether too likely to prove true for Bessie to -force matters as she had announced she intended doing, so she abandoned -all idea of outside assistance. Having failed in intimidation she, -woman-like, resorted to cajolery. - -"Please give me the key, Tom," she said in her sweetest tone. - -"I 'll trade with you, Bessie. I 'll give you the key of the desk for a -lock of your hair." - -"Very well," she answered, much relieved at the insignificance of the -ransom demanded. - -"I want that little curl to the left of your forehead just in front of -your ear," he continued, cunningly selecting a ringlet that could not be -shorn without utterly spoiling the girl's appearance indefinitely. - -"I can't give you that one," she said, indignantly. - -"Oh, very well, then. You shall enjoy solitary confinement for the next -five minutes. When that time has expired, I will return and afford you -the opportunity of assuring me how much you regret all the cross and -inconsiderate things you have said to-night." - -"I 'll _never_ do that," she cried. - -"Usually," asserted Moore, "a girl's _never_ means _to-morrow_." - -"This instance is an exception." - -"True, Bessie, for this time it means five minutes. Behold the key to -the problem." - -With a teasing gesture Moore held up the bit of brass, the possession of -which had made the girl's punishment possible. - -"If you go," said the girl, firmly and slowly, "it means we shall never -be friends again." - -"Pooh!" observed the poet with an indifference most insulting, "you do -not frighten me in the least, my dear. I do not wish to be your -friend." - -So saying, he deposited the key in his pocket and walked toward the door -with a self-satisfied swagger. - -Bessie, driven to desperation, was about to call to him not to go, -hoping he would propose some other terms of settlement, when he took his -handkerchief out of his pocket and waved it at her before stepping out -of the room. She smothered a little cry of delight and waited -impatiently for his steps to die away as he walked toward the farther -door of the apartment adjacent. Moore had carelessly drawn the key out -of his pocket with his handkerchief, and it had dropped noiselessly upon -the floor, the sound of its fall deadened by the soft carpet. - -"Now, how can I get that key?" thought Bessie. "If I only had a long -stick! I 'll try to reach it with a chair." - -But she could not come within a yard of it even with this help. - -"I wish I knew how to swear," she murmured. "I really believe I would. -Perhaps I can pick the lock with a hairpin. I have heard of prisoners -escaping in that way. Prisoner. _Tom's prisoner_." - -She smiled involuntarily, and then, realizing what she was doing, gave -herself a shake of disapproval. - -"You should be ashamed of yourself, Bessie Dyke," thought she. "After -the way that man has treated you, you should hate him. I will hate him, -the horrid thing." - -Leaning over, she strove to unlock the drawer with the hairpin but -scored a decisive failure, and in consequence again waxed wrathful. The -next bright idea that suggested itself to her mind was that she might -possibly drag the desk across the floor to where the key lay -exasperatingly plain in view, but she found her young strength far too -little to even budge the cumbersome old piece of furniture. Then -another plan came to her and she gave a little gurgling laugh, half -delight, half fear, and began to consider it in detail. - -"If I dared, oh, if I dared," she whispered. "I wonder if I can risk -it? It would n't take a minute. _I will do it, so there_." - -As she spoke, she fumbled with the fastening of her dress. The next -moment it fell from around her waist, and stepping out of the circular -heap of millinery surrounding her which it made upon the floor, she was -free to go where she pleased. - -Flushed with success, and yet frightened beyond measure lest she should -be caught by some stray guest in her present incomplete costume, the -girl danced laughingly across the floor, keeping out of line with the -door for fear some one might enter the next room, and, reaching the key, -pounced on it in triumph. - -"Now we will see," she laughed. "Oh, you think you are very clever, Mr. -Thomas Moore, but I fancy there are one or two others just as sharp as -you are." - -Hastening back to the desk, she inserted her prize in the lock and -endeavored to turn it, but did not succeed in doing so, for it did not -fit at all well. She tried again and again, but no better success -rewarded her efforts, and slowly it dawned upon her that this was not -the required key. She had again fallen victim to the cunning of the -young Irishman. - -"It is n't the one," she cried. "It is much too big. Oh, he did it on -purpose. What _shall_ I do?" - -It was quite evident that she could not long remain in such abbreviated -attire without being detected by some one. - -A vigorous pull at the skirt now limply pendant from the prisoning -drawer proved that it was just as impossible to release it when vacated -by its owner as when it adorned her person. In fact, Bessie's brilliant -idea had availed her not in the least, and, realizing this, she was -about to step into the skirt with a view to assuming her shackling -finery, when the sound of her tormentor's voice, singing softly to -himself as he approached, gave her warning of his coming. - -With a little gasp of alarm Bessie fled to the cover of the portieres -which separated the window recess from the room and sheltered by their -clinging folds waited for developments. - - - - - _Chapter Seventeen_ - - _HONORS ARE EASY_ - - -The poet strode gayly into the room, quite at peace with the world and -decidedly pleased with one Thomas Moore, in both these particulars -holding opinions widely differing from the views cherished by the young -lady concealed behind the curtains. - -"What?" remarked Moore. "Is she gone? Dear me, how unkind of her to go -without saying good-bye." - -Then, apparently observing the skirt for the first time, he continued: - -"Ah, she has left this behind for me as a souvenir of the occasion. How -considerate of her." - -Stooping, he unlocked the drawer and drew forth the imprisoned -millinery. Then flinging it carelessly over his arm, he started toward -the door, apparently intending to return to the crowded rooms which he -had just quitted. - -From behind the curtains Bessie regarded his actions with an -exasperation and helplessness which were about equally possessed of her -mind. What should she do? If she betrayed her presence she would be -more than ever at his mercy, yet it was clearly impossible to allow him -to carry off her skirt, as he seemed to purpose doing. Abandoning all -pride, she gave a squeak of alarm as Moore reached the door. - -"Did I hear some one address me?" he demanded, turning on the threshold. - -"Sir," said Bessie, desperately from the window, her brown head visible -between the curtains. - -"Oh, you are there, are you?" said Moore, apparently greatly astonished. - -"Bring me that--_That_," she said, blushing a little as she spoke. - -"That what?" he asked. - -She pointed angrily at the skirt adorning his arm. - -"That," she repeated more loudly. - -"This?" said he, obtusely, holding up his prize. - -"Yes. Give it to me immediately." - -"But," objected Moore, "I don't know that you have any right to it. Can -you prove it to be your property?" - -"I can," replied Bessie with emphasis, "but I won't." - -"I am sorry, Mistress Dyke, but under the circumstances I really must -refuse." - -"But it is mine, Mr. Moore." - -"But I have no proof that it is n't somebody else's. Perhaps it belongs -to Mr. Sheridan." - -"What nonsense." - -"Oh, I don't know about that. Richard Brinsley is said to be fond of -the petticoats. Perhaps this is one he carries around with him. I 'll -go ask the old boy." - -"Don't you dare," she cried. - -"Well, can you identify this as your property?" insisted the poet, not -loth to prolong her discomfiture. - -"Certainly, sir," she replied. "You will find a handkerchief in the -pocket with my initials stitched in the corner with white silk." - -"All right, my dear," said Moore, looking for the pocket and not finding -it immediately. "Where is the infernal--Oh, I have it!" - -And inserting his hand in the elusive object of his quest he drew forth -a powder puff. - -"Oh," said Bessie, and vanished behind the curtains, while Moore viewed -his recent find with delighted curiosity. - -"What's this, Bessie?" - -No answer rewarded his inquiry. - -"Oh, I understand," he went on. "This is the frosting on the cake of -beauty." - -Then, carefully powdering himself, he crossed to the mirror over the -mantel on the opposite side of the room and inspected the result of his -labor. - -"Humph," said he. "I look seasick. I'll have none of this for me." - -And he industriously rubbed his face with his handkerchief. - -"Oh, do hurry up," implored the girl, fearful lest some other of the -guests should enter the room before she recovered her belongings. - -"I was not made in a hurry," replied Moore. "The more haste the less -speed, so I 'll take my time in my investigations." - -The next thing he took from the pocket was a little black and white -sketch of himself which had been drawn at a supper party the week before -by no less distinguished a gentleman than Samuel Rogers, the banker -poet. - -"My picture!" he exclaimed in surprise. "How did you get this, Bessie?" - -"If you must know, Mr. Rogers threw it away and I picked it up," she -replied, displaying as much regard for the truth as any of her sex would -be likely to under the same circumstances. - -"I 'm honored, Mistress Dyke," observed Moore, bowing to the portiere -with formal grace and politeness. "You show much taste in your selection -of works of art." - -Proceeding with his search, Moore now brought to light the handkerchief, -which he promptly confiscated. - -"Mistress Dyke," he said, at the same time tucking away the handkerchief -in his breast pocket, "I am now convinced that this is your property." - -"Then give it to me at once," she directed. - -"Not yet," said Moore. "If I remember correctly, I made a statement to -you concerning an apology which I thought should be forthcoming to me. -Well, I have n't received it as yet." - -"Bully!" remarked Bessie as spitefully as she could, which was not a -little. - -"Did I hear aright?" asked Moore. "Did I hear some one call me a -bully?" - -"Please, oh, please, give me--that!" she pleaded, but Moore was not to -be turned aside from his march to triumph. - -"Did I hear some one say 'Tom, I am truly sorry for my crossness -to-night'?" he asked. - -"I won't say it," she declared, but her voice lacked determination. - -"I really must be going," said Moore, taking a step towards the door. - -She gave a squeal of terror. - -"I will, I will!" she cried. - -"I hope so, Bessie," he replied, pausing. - -"Tom, I am truly sorry for the cross things you have said to me -to-night." - -She mumbled it quickly, hoping he would not distinguish the adaptation -she made in the sentence he had dictated; but Moore heard and defeated -her. - -"That won't do," he said sternly. "Try again." - -"Tyrant!" she exclaimed ferociously. - -"That is not a pretty name, Bessie." - -"It is appropriate," she said, coldly. - -"Go on with the apology." - -The girl made an effort and proceeded with her unwilling penance in the -meekest of tones. - -"Tom, I am truly sorry for the cross things I have said to you to-night. -Now give me it." - -"Don't be in such a hurry, Bessie. There is more to be said." - -"Oh, dear! will you never be satisfied?" - -"Not till you are all mine," he answered in his tenderest tones. - -"That will be a long time," she said determinedly. - -"I can wait, but to continue--Say 'You are an old nuisance, Tom, but I -like to have you around.'" - -"You are an old nuisance, Tom, but I like to have you around," she -repeated, parrot-like; then she added sweetly, "I have something else I -wish to tell you." - -Deceived by her sentimental tone, Moore stepped near the curtains and -like a flash she snapped the skirt off his arm and vanished behind her -shelter. - -"The deuce!" exclaimed Moore, in chagrin. - -The curtains undulated violently as though some vigorous performance -were being enacted behind them. The next moment Bessie, fully attired, -swept out between them and across the room, her independence and peace -of mind restored with the resumption of the purloined garment. - -"Bessie," said Moore, persuasively, and she halted on the threshold in -haughty response. "Bessie, won't you let me speak to you before you -go?" - -"I fear it will only be a waste of time, Mr. Moore," she answered. - -"Yet I waited when you asked me to from behind the curtains," he said, a -glint of laughter in his eyes. - -Bessie winced, but the stare she favored him with was both cold and -disdainful. - -"But, Mr. Moore," she answered, "I had something to say to which you -wished to listen." - -"You mean," he corrected, "you had to say something, Bessie, that I -wished to hear. There never was maid more unwilling to do what she was -bid than you." - -"Pray hasten your words, sir. I am listening." - -"Bessie," he whispered, all the music and poetry to which the love in -his heart had given life vibrant in his caressing voice, "Bessie, -mavourneen, let's have done with this bickering. The days of youth fly -far too fast for us to waste them in contention. You are the breath of -my life, darlin'. Say you 'll take me back to my old place in your -heart this night and ne'er send me a-journeying again while we live." - -She walked slowly to the fireplace and resting her arm on the mantel -above stood looking into the blaze. Moore, encouraged by her return, -drew near her. - -"You know I love you deeply and truly as any woman has ever been loved," -he murmured, standing so close that his warm, eager breath gently -stirred and set a-quivering the tiny ringlets clustered on her neck. -"And I can't bear to go on like this. You must hear me to-night, Bessie -darlin', once and for all. I love you; with all my heart and all my -soul I love you, dearest of girls. You planted my heart full of roses -of passion the first day that I met you, and each and every bud has come -to blossom. Your dear eyes have looked into mine and written your name -upon my heart. There is not a curl that steals kisses from your cheek I -'d not give my life to be, unless that curl and the proud head it graces -can both be mine. Ah, Bessie, dearest, Bessie, darling, be my wife and -make me the happiest man on earth. Aye, or in heaven." - -If he could have seen her eyes he would never have listened to the words -of her reply, for in their depths shone an answer so sweet and tender -and surrendering that even he, oft rejected and almost despairing wooer -that he was, could not have mistaken or read as aught else but final. -But, resolved not to yield yet, though a love as strong and passionate -as his own was tugging at her heart-strings, she kept her face turned -from him till her original determination, aided by mischief which -prompted her to punish him for all the humiliation she had just suffered -at his hands, sufficed to give her control of her emotions. Then she -turned coldly and said: - -"Tom, you really should put that into rhyme. You have never written a -prettier poem." - -He started at her words and drew back a pace or two. - -"You make a jest of me," he said in an offended tone. - -"And why so, sir? I refused to marry you when you were poor." - -"Do you think I've forgotten it?" he demanded. - -"Now, if I married you, people would say I took back my 'No' because of -your rise in the world. Why, even you once spoke as though you thought -I might be influenced by such sordid considerations." - -"You do not believe--you never have believed--that I thought you capable -of such a vile thing," he responded hotly. "You seized on that as a -means to hold me off. You must needs play your game of hide-and-seek -till you are weary, regardless of my pain and despair." - -"The world would say I married you for your money," she continued, -paying no heed to his words. "You know how quick it is to misinterpret -the best of motives." - -"If they said that they 'd lie, Bessie," said Moore. "Save that I have -paid my debts and incurred no others, I 'm no richer, for as yet I 've -made no fortune. On my honor, I 'm still as poor as you are pretty, and -the glass will show you I must be little better than a beggar. Like -your father, dearest, my future--all my hope of wealth and fame these -next few years--depends upon the Regent's favor, so it couldn't be for -aught but love. Ah, alanna, say you 'll have me?" - -"No," she answered with great emphasis, and crossed the room. Once on -the other side she repeated her reply, but this time in a tone soft and -cooing, but if she expected by this last manoeuvre to elicit further -wooing from her lover she made a mistake, for, justly wrathful at the -treatment she accorded him, he threw caution to the winds. - -"So?" he cried, hoarsely. "You still refuse? Then listen to me. I 've -courted you from the first day I saw you. From the moment our eyes met -I 've loved you faithfully and truly. I 've sung to you of love--I 've -talked to you of love--I 've begged for it upon my knees--and you? You -have laughed at me. Because my heart was full of you there was no room -for resentment, and I, too, laughed and made a jest of what was breaking -it. That is past; I've offered it to you for the last time. I 'll -never again ask you to be my wife." - -"Oh," said the girl, momentarily shocked at his vehemence, but quickly -recovering. "Tom, you 'll never again ask me to marry you?" - -"No," he answered roughly, and sat down beside the fire. - -"Then," she went on mournfully, "there is only one thing for me to do." - -"What is that?" he asked moodily. - -"If you won't ask me to marry you, then some day I--I--" - -She hesitated, the words hindered by the smile that could not be denied. - -"Well?" - -"_Then some day I'll have to ask you to marry me._" - -Moore leaped to his feet. - -"Will you, Bessie?" he cried. - -"Who knows?" she answered, backing towards the door. - -"What would you say?" - -"I 'd say 'I love you, Tom; will you be my husband?'" - -"You would?" - -"_That is, if I should happen to want you, which is n't at all likely._" - -Then, with a rippling laugh, Bessie turned her back on him, and strolled -off, satisfied that she had avenged her wrongs of the evening. And had -she not? - - - - - _Chapter Eighteen_ - - _TOM MOORE MOVES IN DISTINGUISHED COMPANY_ - - -Sir Percival Lovelace gave a reception in honor of the first appearance -of Mistress Bessie Dyke as Lydia Languish in a revival of Mr. Sheridan's -successful comedy "The Rivals." So sure was the baronet of his -protegee's success that some days previous to the date of the first -performance he publicly announced the function to be for the purpose of -extending to the winsome actress congratulations upon the triumph he -expected her to win. Invitations to the reception were eagerly sought, -and correspondingly difficult to obtain, for Sir Percival enjoyed an -enviable reputation as a lavish entertainer. The Prince himself promised -to attend, for he found amusement in the girlish piquancy of the little -player's conversation conspicuously lacking in the more reverential -prattle of the great ladies who owed their presence in the upper circle -of society to birth instead of brains. Even Mrs. FitzHerbert, once more -on friendly terms with the baronet, consented to honor the assemblage -with her presence, and all the other leaders and lions of the world of -wealth and breeding were favored with invitations--that is, all except -one. Thomas Moore, now at the height of his popularity, was overlooked. -This was no surprise to the poet, for he had not been deceived by Sir -Percival's apparent desire to overlook their past differences. He felt -confident that the baronet would not rest content until he had made -every effort to undermine the popularity which he had won as much by his -personal charm as by the merit of his poetry, yet, seeing no way in -which he could be successfully attacked by his old enemy, he grew more -confident as weeks passed with no visible effort to injure his -prosperity. - -Sir Percival, however, was not losing sight of the main object he had in -view when he brought about Bessie's journeying to London. While he -fully intended to put an end to Moore's success eventually, he had -busied himself in the last few weeks more particularly with his plans -for bringing about the forcing of the girl to do his will. By skilful -manipulation of the various influences he was able to bring to bear upon -persons important in the administration of matters in regard to the -smaller dealings in the way of finance, together with the fatuous -confidence reposed in him by Mr. Dyke, this ingenious gentleman -succeeded in obtaining the issuance of a warrant for the body of the old -rhymer in default of complete settlement of his outstanding -indebtedness. This accomplished without his intended victim being at -all the wiser, he held the document in readiness for his purposed -attempt at intimidation. Now it was of course imperative, when he -should have kicked from beneath Robin Dyke the props which at present -held him above ruin as exemplified in limitless incarceration in a Fleet -Street debtors' prison, that Thomas Moore should be in no position to -hold forth means of relief. Such being the case Sir Percival devoted -himself to making all ready for the disaster which he hoped and believed -would be the culmination of the young Irishman's social career, availing -himself in this matter of the advice and services of his agent and -mentor, Terence Farrell. Success in all the preparations crowned his -efforts to a degree that would have seemed unusual even in a better -cause,--a state of affairs that led to much cynical reflection as to the -relative easiness of the practices of philanthropy and its antithesis -upon the part of the gentleman from whom the impetus for the plotted -evil business was obtained. - -This was the state of affairs on the evening of Sir Percival's -reception. - - * * * * * - -Mrs. FitzHerbert regarded Mr. Sheridan with a doubtful expression in -eyes famed for their beauty and innocence. - -"Mr. Sheridan," she remarked, severely, "I am not sure that Parliament -is sufficient excuse for your absence from Drury Lane to-night. -Everybody who is anybody was present except the author. Fie, sir! -Surely you should take enough interest in your own play to witness its -revival." - -"Hum," said Mr. Sheridan, "I will promise not to let even Parliament -prevent my attendance at the theatre when a play by you shall be -presented, madame." - -"Do you fancy, sir, that I am not capable of writing a play?" - -"Heaven forbid that I should declare any woman incapable of anything in -the world, possible or impossible," replied the gentleman thus -addressed. - -"I am not sure that you intend that remark as a compliment, sir." - -"A woman should accept as complimentary all that she is not absolutely -certain is intended to be the opposite." - -"You would have women very conceited, Mr. Sheridan." - -"If you mean, dear lady, that I would not change the sweet creatures, -you comprehend me perfectly," replied the old gentleman. "Did you know, -Mrs. FitzHerbert, that our friend, Tommy Moore, has been slighted -to-night?" - -"Indeed," asked the lady in a disappointed tone. "I thought he would -surely be here." - -"Zooks," drawled a handsome gentleman who, gorgeously attired and -carrying himself with mannered dignity, had joined the first-mentioned -couple in their corner. "Moore not here? What a bore! I counted on -hearing him sing some of his ballads to-night. I am told he has a new -one. Some deliciously impossible lyrical statement concerning the -steadfastness of the proper kind of love in the face of misfortune and -wrinkles. Quite improbable, but delightfully sentimental and -imaginative." - -"Put not your faith in princes, Brummell," quoted Mr. Sheridan, -knowingly, "that your days may be longer in the land." - -"A combination of scriptural sayings worthy of their most unrespected -quoter," laughed Mrs. FitzHerbert. "Do you think a prince's passion -could face wrinkles?" - -"In whose face? His own or some one else's?" - -"Some one else's face, of course, Mr. Sheridan." - -"I spoke of the proper kind of love, dear madame, not the improper," -observed Brummell, languidly. - -"And a prince's love?" - -"For his princess impossible, for any other woman improper," said -Sheridan, looking away lest his shot strike home. - -"And why has Sir Percival cut Mr. Moore?" demanded Mrs. FitzHerbert, -giving Sheridan a reproving tap with her fan. - -"They are old rivals," replied the Beau. - -"Would Sir Percival marry her, do you think?" - -"No one can answer that question, Mrs. Fitz, but Lovelace himself. -Shall I tell him you would like to know?" - -"Not for the world, Mr. Sheridan," she exclaimed. "It is not my affair." - -"If Percy is contemplating matrimony it will surprise many who know him -well," returned Brummell, seating himself near by. "But then he always -was an eccentric dog." - -"They would never agree." - -"Well," said Mr. Sheridan, "it is well known that if the bride and the -groom did not have their little differences they would not care to -marry." - -"Ahem! Have you read Mr. Rogers's new poem?" asked the lady, skilfully -changing the subject. - -"'The Pleasures of Memory'? Egad, I obtain much more pleasure by -forgetting," said Sheridan, taking snuff. - -"So the tradesmen say, Sherry." - -"Well, George, I 've not heard of your discounting your bills lately," -retorted the elder man. - -Just then Sir Percival approached them. - -"As usual, the rallying place for wit and fashion is at Mrs. -FitzHerbert's side," said the baronet, graciously. - -"So you thought you would add beauty to the list by coming yourself?" - -"Nay, Sherry, I have heard it said there was never a prettier gentleman -than Richard Brinsley," said the baronet. - -"Who said that? Your grandmother?" retorted Sheridan. "How is the old -lady?" - -"So you have neglected Mr. Moore?" whispered Mrs. FitzHerbert, drawing -her host to her side. "Oh, Percy, Percy, what a jealous creature you -are!" - -"Egad, you wrong me, Mrs. FitzHerbert; the one being I have ever really -envied as a lover is his Highness." - -"Mr. Dyke and Mistress Dyke," announced the footman. - -Sir Percival went to welcome his guests, followed by Sheridan and the -others. Bessie never looked prettier. The proud consciousness of her -success gave her a new confidence, and she laughed and quizzed it with -the witty throng assembled to celebrate her triumph as brightly and -merrily as though she had never moved in any but the upper circle of -society. Mrs. FitzHerbert mischievously told her of Sir Percival's -intentional neglect of Moore in the hearing of the gentleman, and then, -bubbling over with glee at the embarrassing position in which she had -placed him, sought safety in flight on the arm of Farrell, who, quite -dazzled by the beauty's condescension, was already vaguely meditating on -his chances as a rival of the Regent. - -"Are you angry, Mistress Bessie?" asked Sir Percival, inwardly -registering a vow to be even with the Prince's favorite for the trick -she had played him. - -"Angry?" she repeated. "What a question, sir! Surely in your own house -you have the privilege of editing your visiting list?" - -"You must know why I have done this," he said boldly. - -"Why, Sir Percival?" - -"Because I am jealous of the amorous looks he bestows upon you, even if -you do not return them. I wished to have you to myself to-night, so I -have placed it beyond Moore's power to interfere in his usual impudent -manner." - -"You need not explain," Bessie said coldly, as a servant approached. - -"The Prince's carriage blocks the way," he announced to his master. - -"Good!" exclaimed Sir Percival. "His Highness' tardiness worried me. I -was afraid he was not coming." - -"His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales," announced the footman a -moment later, "_and Mr. Thomas Moore!_" - -The Regent entered the room with his arm linked in that of the poet, -whose eyes, twinkling with merriment, showed plainly his enjoyment of -Sir Percival's surprise and disappointment. - -"Percy, I took the liberty of bringing Tom Moore with me." - -"Your Highness does not doubt that I am glad to welcome any friend of -yours," glibly replied Sir Percival. - -Then as the Prince, seeing Sheridan, ever a favorite of his, turned -away, the baronet said to Moore, a sneer disfiguring his handsome face: - -"Believe me, Mr. Moore, my house is honored." - -"I believe you, Sir Percival," responded the poet, promptly, "so that -need not worry you." - -"Nothing ever worries me, sir." - -"Not even conscience, Sir Percival?" - -"No, Mr. Moore," replied the baronet, as Wales and Sheridan drew nearer. - -"Ah, I see, conscience, like a powdered wig, is no longer in style." - -"Tut, tut, Tom," said Sheridan reprovingly. "I still cling to the old -fashion." - -Moore eyed the speaker's wig with tolerant eye. - -"Faith, Sherry," said he, "brains such as yours are an excuse for -anything." - -"Perhaps," said Sheridan. "But it is a poor rule that does n't work -both ways, and surely you will not have the temerity to assert that -'Anything is an excuse for brains.'" - -"In society who can doubt the truth of the statement?" - -"It takes a sinner to be cynical," said Sheridan, having recourse to his -snuff-box. - -"Then," said Moore, "what a doubter our greatest dramatist must be." - -"I have been described as a doubtful character more than once," returned -the old gentleman. "Your Highness, when you arrived we were discussing -matrimony." - -"An amatory eccentricity," drawled Brummell, who had joined the little -group now surrounding the Prince. - -"The connecting link between bankruptcy and the Bank of England," -declared Sir Percival. - -"The straight-jacket in which are confined couples suffering from -sentimental insanity pronounced incurable by the church," said Moore. - -"Ah," said Wales, "recovery is sometimes rapid, nevertheless." - -"Marriage is deceptive," said Mr. Sheridan, with a sigh. "Lovers go to -church for a bridal and return home to find they have been given a -yoke." - -"What would you suggest, Sherry?" asked the Prince. "Would you abolish -matrimony?" - -"I 'd make it a bill drawn on Divorce at say three years' sight." - -"I fear most couples would seek to discount the bill," said Moore. - -"You take it too seriously," said Brummell, smothering a yawn. - -"Is it supposed to be a joke?" asked Wales, whimsically. - -"Yes, your Highness, played on mankind for the benefit of posterity," -said Moore. - -"Tut, tut, Tommy," said Sheridan reprovingly. "You are too young to be -such a scoffer." - -"Indeed?" - -"You young fellows are led astray by your own importance, and soon begin -to regard yourselves as paternal achievements rather than maternal -miscalculations." - -A roar followed this sally of the elder Irishman, but the younger was -not to be so quickly defeated. - -"And you old boys," said he, "make another mistake. You regard -yourselves as attractions long after you have become ornaments." - -"Personalities are to be avoided," returned Sheridan good-humoredly. -"We were talking of marriage." - -"Don't mention it," retorted Moore politely. "It is a queer thing at -best. Before a wedding a woman has a husband to look forward to." - -"And when married?" - -"Faith, Sherry, a husband to look after." - -"Imagine it, Brummell." - -"Fortunately, your Highness, there are some limits to my imagination," -replied the Beau. - -"Sentimentally but not sartorially speaking," observed Sheridan, -scrutinizing the exquisite's lace cravat through his eye-glass. "'T is -well to remember that imagination is the thief of truth." - -"You have dismembered marriage," said Wales, smiling, "what of love?" - -"Surely the subjects have nothing in common?" cried Moore. - -"The two together would be most uncommon," remarked Sheridan. "Love is -the incidental music in the melodrama of life." - -"The sugar coating put upon the pill of sensuality by the sentimental -apothecary," retorted Moore. "Love is the devil, matrimony is -hel--hem!--heaven." - -"How do you know, Moore?" demanded the Prince. "You have never been -married." - -"I have never been to Hades, your Highness, but I know it is hot just -the same." - -The verbal duel of the quartette ended in a shout of laughter and the -Prince, on the arm of Brummell, strolled away in search of Mrs. -FitzHerbert, while Sir Percival and Sheridan sought the card-room, -leaving Moore to his own devices, a proceeding that suited him exactly, -as he had already caught a distant view of Bessie, and was eager to be -off in pursuit. - -That young lady, guessing as much, took refuge in a flight as skilful as -it was apparently unstudied, and Moore, hampered by the politeness he -was compelled to bestow upon his friends and admirers as he encountered -them on his pursuing stroll, found himself at the end of half an hour no -nearer the object of his quest than at the beginning of the evening. -Just then there came a request from the Regent that he should favor the -assemblage with one of his own songs, so, inwardly chafing at the delay, -he was compelled to warble rapturously, not once but thrice, for his -good-nature was at par with his fellow guests' appreciation. - -Having sung "Believe Me, if All Those Endearing Young Charms," he -followed it with the mournful ditty, "She is Far from the Land," and -finished with "The Last Rose of Summer" by royal command, the close of -his efforts being received with a perfect storm of applause that was as -sincere as it was flattering; but here the Prince interfered, and, -vowing he would not allow his gifted friend to strain his vocal cords, -publicly thanked Moore for the pleasure he had given the assemblage. - -Meanwhile, Sir Percival had not been idle. Finding a deserted nook the -baronet, about an hour later, sent a servant in quest of Farrell, and -contentedly awaited the young Irishman's coming, absorbed in pleasant -rumination on the probable happenings of the by no means distant future. - -"Oh, Terence," said he, rousing from his reverie as the former entered, -"is the poem printed?" - -Farrell drew a copy of the _Examiner_ from his pocket. - -"Here it is in the evening's issue," said he. "Evidently his Highness -has not yet stumbled on it, though every one else seems to have done -so." - -[Illustration: Tom Moore meets Bessie Dyke at Sir Percival's.] - -"Droll that the Prince should come here in the author's company," said -Sir Percival, scanning the sheet, in the corner of which was the poem he -had purloined from Moore's garret. - -"A propitious happening, sir," returned Farrell. "I have not begun the -circulation of the author's name. Is it the proper time, think you?" - -"Not yet, my dear Terence. Half an hour from now will be quite soon -enough. Egad, these verses sting, or I 'm no judge of satire. When the -Prince does finally set eyes upon them there will be an outburst. A -flood of anger will result on which the writer of this masterpiece will -be borne away to oblivion." - -"Moore is high in favor now." - -"The higher the elevation the greater the fall, Terence." - -Farrell nodded. - -"Our visit to his garret was a fortunate one. But for what we found -there I fear Tom's position in royal favor would be too firm for even -you, Sir Percival, to successfully assail. May I ask the programme you -have planned in regard to Bessie?" - -"It differs very little from the scheme we discussed a fortnight ago. -Already the bailiffs are on post both at the front and rear, waiting -patiently to seize the person of Mr. Dyke unless otherwise directed by -my humble self, which will only result from the girl's compliance or the -payment of the thousand her father owes me. I anticipate with their aid -finding little difficulty in persuading Mistress Bessie to go through -the marriage ceremony to-night. Once this is accomplished I'll take her -on the Continent for a glimpse of Europe." - -"You will marry her?" said Farrell in surprise. - -"Not really, you fool," laughed his patron. "Foreseeing such a -compromise as marriage, I have provided a clergyman of my own -manufacture. Jack Hathaway has kindly consented to assume the role for -a liberal consideration." - -"That devil's bird," muttered Farrell. - -"Aye, no angel child is Jack, but a gentler rogue might not care to risk -liberty to oblige a friend who had found a difficult damsel." - -"And where is this gallant rascal?" - -"He, with the proper ecclesiastical caparisons ready at hand, is waiting -for my coming round the corner a little way. You see how confident I am -that to-night I will have my will." - -"You think she will suspect nothing?" - -"I rely on Jack's appearance to silence any vague doubts that may haunt -her gentle bosom. Jack can look most reverent. Aye, and act it, too, -if he be not in his cups." - -"You are a remarkable man, Sir Percival." - -"At all events industrious," returned the baronet, rising and putting -the paper in his pocket. "Come, Farrell, our absence may be remarked. -Your arm." - -Then, as these two very worthy gentlemen strolled leisurely away, a -little old man in a powdered wig all awry in its set upon his clever old -head, staggered out from behind the portieres screening the window -recess, and, balancing himself uncertainly as he stood, groaned aloud at -the impotence of his intoxicated brain. - -The little gentleman was Mr. Richard Brinsley Sheridan; the reason for -his sudden impatience with drunkenness being that he had heard every -word of the conversation between Sir Percival and his creature, and now -found his wine-drenched intellect unequal to planning the proper course -for him to follow to checkmate the benevolent intentions of his host. - - - - - _Chapter Nineteen_ - - _MR. SHERIDAN, MR. BRUMMELL, AND MR. MOORE HOLD COUNCIL OF WAR_ - - -His Royal Highness did not at first succeed in locating the lady who -enjoyed so much of his favor and admiration at this time. Mrs. -FitzHerbert took possession of Moore when a servant informed Farrell of -Sir Percival's wish to see him, and, laughing mischievously, kept on the -move from one room to another, resolved that Wales should make at least -a fairly determined effort before he obtained the pleasure of her -company. Finding a secluded corner behind some palms in the -conservatory, she proceeded to catechise Moore in regard to his affair -with Bessie Dyke, at the same time keeping a sharp look-out for the -approach of the Regent. - -"I 'll vow you were at Old Drury to-night, Mr. Moore," said she. - -"Do you think that shows marvellous perception on your part?" demanded -the poet, lightly. - -"What do you think of actresses?" - -"I don't think of them, Mrs. FitzHerbert." - -"Not of Bessie?" - -"Never as an actress." - -"Yet she is one, and clever too," - -"If I had my way she 'd never walk the boards after to-night." - -"But you have n't your way, Mr. Moore." - -"Worse luck!" - -"Oh, perhaps it is fortunate for Mistress Bessie that you do not direct -her destinies." - -"I think no man enjoys seeing a woman he cares for upon the stage." - -"Fie, Mr. Moore. A man should be proud of the admiration accorded her -if she be successful." - -"There is no place half so fitting for a woman as her husband's home. -No profession for her one hundredth part so appropriate, so complete in -happiness and content as the care of her children." - -"You are very old fashioned, Mr. Moore." - -"True love is always old fashioned. It is one thing that has never -changed an iota since the first man was given the first woman to -worship." - -"Oh, dear," sighed Mrs. FitzHerbert, "you have the morals badly this -evening. Mr. Brummell, I fear your friend Tom is contemplating -priesthood." - -"Religion is an excellent thing to ponder on," said the Beau, drawing -near. "It is so completely non-exciting that much thought may be -expended, thus furnishing extensive intellectual exercise without -causing the nervous mental activity so completely demoralizing to placid -natures." - -"Perhaps he means something by that procession of words, Mrs. -FitzHerbert," said Moore, doubtfully. "We must not judge entirely by -appearances." - -"It is not impossible, I presume," replied Mrs. FitzHerbert, apparently -possessed of serious misgivings upon the subject. - -"Because the prattle of certain people is entirely devoid of either -sense or sentiment, it is not to be concluded that the conversation of -every one else is at so completely a low ebb of mentality," remarked the -Beau, sententiously. "Oh, Tommy, Tommy, why will you tie your cravat in -that horrible, horrible fashion?" - -"It's like this, Brummell. I 'm tired of following your styles, so at -present seek to set one of my own." - -"Then I 'll quell your insubordination without further delay," returned -the Beau, laying skilful hands on Moore's tie. "A touch to the left, a -twist to the right, a pucker here, and a graceful fall of lace thus, -Thomas, and you are a credit to Ireland." - -"Thanky," said Moore. "If I look half as fine as you do, George, I 'll -need some one to see me home. The ladies will never allow me to escape -unkissed." - -"A kiss in time saves nine," said Mr. Sheridan, thickly, having -approached unnoticed. "I can't prove it, but it sounds curst clever, at -least after the second bottle." - -"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Fitz," said Brummell, languidly, "his Highness is -searching for you, or I misread his behavior." - -"If that is the case," replied Mrs. FitzHerbert, smiling into existence -the prettiest dimple in the world, "there is only one thing for me to -do." - -"To hide, Mrs. FitzHerbert," suggested Moore, who understood all women -save one; at least it was to this effect that he flattered himself. - -"Really, Mr. Moore, you should have been born a woman." - -"Not so," said the poet, "for then, like other women, I should be blind -to the good fortune of his Highness in enjoying your ladyship's favor." - -"But," said Brummell, pompously, "if you had been a woman, Tom, _I_ -might have loved you." - -"Egad, George, for the first time in my life I regret my sex." - -"I 've regretted m' sex all m' life," observed Sheridan, swaying a -trifle. - -"And tried to drown all recollection in a crimson tide, eh, Sherry?" - -"Don't you be so f'miliar, Tommy. I 'm not half drunk." - -"Which half is sober, sir?" - -"I am still in doubt 's to that, sir. I think it's first one half and -then the other." - -"You seem quite content, Mr. Sheridan." - -"That, Mrs. FitzHerbert, is because I have made myself familiar with Sir -Percival's wine, and familiarity breeds content." - -Just then Mrs. FitzHerbert caught a distant view of the Regent, and, -seeing Sheridan was bent on continuing to enjoy the society of his young -fellow-countryman, she took the arm of the Beau and hied herself in the -opposite direction, thus prolonging the quest of her royal lover. - -Once by themselves, Sheridan seized Moore's arm. - -"Tommy," said he, "I 'm a drunken old reprobate." - -"They say confession is good for the soul, Sherry," replied Moore, -politely. - -"But I 'm not such a rascal as s'm' others I know of." - -"I hope you mean nothing personal?" - -"Shut up, Tommy." - -"Yessir," replied the gentleman thus admonished. - -"Goo' boy, Tommy. Now listen. Having had a drink or two or pos'bly -three to be 'tirely frank, Tommy, I 'cided to get a little air." - -"I thought you had a little heir, Sherry." - -"Y'r a fool, Tommy." - -"I can't conscientiously deny it." - -"Oh, H--l!" remarked the elder Irishman, "it's too important to be so -curst silly about." - -"I beg your pardon," said Moore, contritely. "Proceed." - -"Where was I?" - -"You were looking for air." - -"So I was. Well, so in I go to a room ver' little frequented. And -there I raise a window and have a shock, fo' outside I see quite plainly -the ugly mug of a bailiff. A bailiff I 'm quite attached to f'r ole -times' sake. 'Shoo' old acquaintance be f'rgot,' and so forth. -Understan', Tommy?" - -"Perfectly." - -"So of course I think he is after me. Understan'?" - -"The presumption is quite natural." - -"And bob back my head f'r fear he mi' see me. Then down comes window on -m' crown, tips my wig over m' ear, and lays me out cold on the floor -behind the por'chers. Understan'?" - -"Very clearly, Sherry." - -"Then when I become sens'ble, I hear voices outside window recess in the -room, Sir Percival and Farrell having confidential chat. Thass what I -want tell you." - -"Oh," said Moore, in sudden interest, "what were they talking about?" - -"Curst 'f I know now," said the dramatist, blankly, all recollection of -the important information he had to convey suddenly obliterated. - -Moore immediately waxed anxious. - -"Think, Sherry, think!" - -"I 'm too drunk to do anything but--" - -"But what?" - -"--but drink some more drinksh." - -"Sit down here now and take things easily," urged Moore, resolved to -learn what had weighed so heavily upon the old gentleman's mind. - -"I 'm ver' thirsty," observed Sheridan, thoughtfully. "Go' lump on m' -head, Tommy. Ver' dis'oblegin' window, most inconsid'rate. Almost -scalped ven'rable author of 'Schoo' f'r Scan'al.'" - -"Now there are only two subjects on which Sir Percival could converse -that would interest me in the least, Sherry." - -"Two. Thass ver' few f'r so clever a man as you, Tommy. I fear you -lack ver'--ver'--vers'tility, m' boy." - -"The first subject is, of course, Bessie." - -"Curst nice lil' girl," observed Sheridan, conscious that the young lady -spoken of was in some way connected with the idea that had so suddenly -vanished. - -"The other is myself." - -"Natura--er--rally so." - -"Now of which of these did he speak?" - -"Thass the question, Tommy," replied Sheridan stupidly. - -"Oh!" exclaimed Moore in disgust. - -A flash of recollection stirred into new life by the ejaculation -illumined the face of the wit. - -"Yesh, thass it. Owe. Thass it, Tommy." - -Moore became imbued with new hope, but did not hasten his inquiries as -before, lest he should again daze Sheridan's semi-somnolent memory. - -"Owe?" he repeated. "Some one is indebted to Sir Percival, Sherry?" - -"Thass it, Tommy." - -"I wonder who it can be? Of course you do not remember, Sherry?" - -"Yesh I do," asserted his companion. "Itsh Mr. Dyke. He owes Sir -Percival thoushand pounds." - -"Good God!" exclaimed Moore, beneath his breath, horrified at what he -heard. - -"The bailiffs I s'posed present in m' honor are here to seize him if he -don't return the moneysh to-night." - -"What is the alternative the scoundrel offers?" asked Moore, confident -that the debt was merely a weapon of intimidation. - -"If Bessie marries him to-night he will let her father off on his debt. -Otherwise he goes in limbo. She 'll have to do it, m' boy. He 'd die in -Fleet Street. Oh, Tommy, what a dirty scoundrel he ish!" - -"Sherry," said Moore, gratefully, pressing the old gentleman's hand as -he spoke, "if I live to be a thousand years old I 'll never cease to -thank you with all my heart for what you have done to-night." - -"Thass all right, Tommy, thass all right. We 're both Irishmen," -responded the dramatist. - -As Sheridan spoke he opened the window and standing beside it drew long -draughts of the cool fresh evening air into his lungs. Moore sat -quietly waiting for his friend to regain the sobriety he knew would not -be long in returning, now that he had passed through the muddled stage -and emerged upon the borders of ordinary intelligence. Meanwhile he was -trying to evolve some plan to avert the danger threatening his friends -with such dire misfortune. For the aged poet to languish in the -foulness of a debtor's prison for more than a week would be to sign his -death-warrant. The horrible condition of the places of confinement -consecrated to the incarceration of gentlemen who involved themselves to -an extent beyond their ability to pay was one of the strongest -inducements that could be brought to bear by a creditor to force to the -settlement of long-standing obligations a certain type of debtor--he who -could pay if he willed to make the sacrifice of personal convenience, -and to curtail the indulgences common usage made the essential pleasures -of the gay life of the sporty young buck of the period. For this reason -more than any other was the condition of these vile dens allowed to go -unimproved in spite of an occasional vigorous protest from some noble -but impoverished family whose ne'er-do-well offspring was compelled to -lie indefinitely in squalor as new as it was repugnant to his elegant -sensibilities. That Bessie would make any sacrifice to keep her father -from such a fate Moore felt assured. There was only one way to block -Sir Percival's game. The money must be paid. But how? The returns from -Moore's book had enabled him to settle his debts in both Ireland and -England, but, up to this time, very little more than enough to -accomplish this result and support him as his new position demanded had -come from his publisher, McDermot. It was true that the sudden glow of -enthusiasm usually experienced by a bookseller after the publication of -a successful book had led the close-fisted and stony-hearted old -Scotchman to declare his willingness to pay a generous sum in advance -for a new poem, upon an oriental theme, which Lord Lansdowne had -suggested to Moore, providing this bonus should give him the exclusive -right of publication for the term of two years to all literary output -from the pen of the young Irishman. However, Moore felt confident that -the sum McDermot would be willing to pay to bind the bargain would be -far less than the thousand he required. How, then, could he raise such -an enormous amount? - -Sheridan, who was fast sobering, thanks to the bracing air, closed the -window with a shiver and turned to his young friend. - -"What will you do, Tommy?" he asked, only a slight trace of his former -thickness of tongue perceptible. - -"Do, Sherry? I 'll have to raise the money." - -"Have you it?" demanded the wit, regarding Moore in amazement. - -"Not I, Sherry. It's taken all I 've earned so far to pay my debts." - -"Debts?" snorted Sheridan, contemptuously. "Let this be a lesson to -you, Tom. Never pay anything. I never do." - -"You, Sherry? Have you any money?" - -"None, except what I have in my pockets," replied Sheridan, hopelessly. -At this moment Mr. Brummell, deserted by Mrs. FitzHerbert, and weary of -the senseless gabble so liberally dispensed by nine of every ten females -gracing social functions of magnitude, wandered back into the -conservatory in search of quiet. Spying two of his closest cronies, he -made haste to join them. - -"Here is the Beau," said Moore. "Ah, George, you have come just in time -for the collection." - -"Indeed?" said Brummell, curiously. "Have I missed the sermon?" - -"Yes, but you are in time for the blessing, if you have any money to -lend a poor devil of an Irishman." - -"Money," sighed the Beau, "is too vulgar for me to long endure its -possession, Tom." - -"I am not joking, Brummell," declared Moore, seriously. "I need money, -sir. Every penny you can let me have. How much do you think you can -raise for me within the hour?" - -Brummell, assured by Moore's manner that he was not jesting, began to -sum up his resources. - -"I think," said he, hopefully, "that I can borrow fifty pounds from my -landlady, and I have a guinea or two in my clothes." - -"Fifty pounds," said Moore. "And you, Sherry?" - -The gentleman addressed had ransacked his pockets and was rapidly -counting out a handful of small coins. - -"I have five shillings and sixpence," he announced. - -Moore groaned. - -"And I think," continued the old gentleman, "that I can borrow five -pounds from my valet if the rascal is not in a state of beastly -sobriety." - -"And I 've not twenty pounds to my name," said Moore, losing hope for -the moment. - -"Your name should carry more weight than twenty pounds," returned -Sheridan. "Perhaps I can borrow some from a stranger." - -"But a stranger would not know you, Sherry," objected Brummell. - -"But if he knew him he wouldn't lend him a penny," said Moore. "Think -of it, gentlemen. What would posterity say if it knew? Beau Brummell, -Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and Tom Moore together cannot raise one -hundred pounds in a time of desperate need." - -"What would posterity say?" sighed Brummell in disgust. - -"Oh, d--n posterity!" cried Sheridan. "What has posterity ever done for -us?" - -"Give it time, Sherry, give it time." - -"That is one thing I am never short of, Tommy." - -"May I, without impropriety, ask what is the trouble?" inquired the -Beau. - -"A friend of mine is in danger, Brummell. I must raise one thousand -pounds before dawn." - -"A thousand pounds!" exclaimed Brummell, horrified. "Good Lord!" - -Then, as the Beau had recourse to his scent-bottle for the stimulation -necessary to revive him from the shock inflicted by Moore's words, the -poet gripped Sheridan by the arm in sudden hope. - -"I 'll appeal to the Prince Regent himself, Sherry." - -Sheridan shook his head in dissent. - -"Tommy, boy, remember he is Sir Percival's intimate friend." - -"But his Highness likes me. Surely he would interfere?" - -"Tom," said Brummell solemnly, "if there is a woman in the case do not -waste your time and exhaust the patience of Wales. His Highness is a -greater rake than Percy Lovelace ever dreamed of being." - -"He would not see a woman so coerced," persisted Moore. - -"Remember, lad," advised Sheridan, "you are a friend and courtier of -only three months' standing. Sir Percival has been Wales's companion -since their boyhood." - -"Then God help us," said Moore in despair. "There is nothing I can do. -Stay! I forgot McDermot. He has asked me to write him an eastern -romance in verse and offered to pay liberally in advance." - -"That old skinflint will faint at the thought of a thousand pounds." - -"It is my only chance, Sherry. Where is the old fellow?" - -"I saw him in the smoking-room a few minutes ago," said Brummell. "No -doubt you will find him still there." - -"I 'll not lose a moment," said Moore. "It is a forlorn hope, but he -'ll find the hardest task of his life will be to give me 'No' for an -answer." - -"But first, Tom," said Sheridan, wisely, "you must see Mr. Dyke. -Perhaps it is not so bad a matter as we think." - -"You are right, Sherry," replied Moore, his spirits recovering a little -at the thought that, after all, the danger might have been exaggerated. - -But this desperate hope was not destined to be of long life, for Moore -found Mr. Dyke in a quiet nook, crushed and despairing. He had just -left Sir Percival, who in a few cold words had explained to the hapless -old man the terrible trap in which he had been caught. - -"Take a half hour to think over my proposition," the baronet had said as -he left the aged poet. "When that time has passed, acquaint your -daughter with my wishes. She will do anything, even marry me, I feel -sure, to extricate you from your present predicament." - -Moore listened in silence to his friend's story, and when he had -finished said: - -"You have not told Bessie, sir?" - -"Not yet, Thomas." - -"Then do not tell her. Let me settle with Sir Percival. I 'll find -some way to beat him yet." - -Leaving Mr. Dyke where he had found him, Moore went in search of the -publisher. - - - - - _Chapter Twenty_ - - _TOM MOORE MAKES A BAD BARGAIN_ - - -Mr. McDermot raised his bald head as Moore approached him in the -smoking-room. His keen, hatchet-shaped face was framed on either side by -a huge mutton-chop whisker which was like nothing else half so much as a -furze bush recently sifted over by a snow-storm. This worthy gentleman -regarded Moore with a keenness that seemed to the poet to penetrate and -to coldly scrutinize his troubled mind, for Moore was ever a poor hand -at dissimulation and bore on his unusually cheery countenance only too -plainly the mark of the mental anxiety he was now enduring. - -"Weel, Mr. Moore, what can I do for ye, sair?" - -"Sir," said Moore, trying to hide his eagerness, "I have been thinking -over the proposition you made a week ago at the instigation of Lord -Lansdowne." - -"Weel, Mr. Moore?" repeated McDermot, realizing at a single glance that -the person addressing him was much in need of something he hoped to -obtain as the result of this interview, and wisely concluding that this -something was money. - -"You wished me to write a long poem, for which you asserted you were -willing to pay in advance, if by so doing you secured the exclusive -right to all my work for the next two years." - -"So I said, Mr. Moore, but that was a week ago, sair. However, continue -your remarks." - -"At that time I did not regard the matter favorably," continued Moore, -"but since then I have changed my mind. I accept your offer, sir." - -"Ah, do ye? And what terms did I propose, Mr. Moore?" - -"You named none, sir, but from the way you spoke I fancied you would be -agreeable to any reasonable bargain I might propose." - -"True, sair, true, but what is reasonable in one man's eyes may weel be -considered exhorbitant by anither. Ha' the kindness to name in figures, -Mr. Moore, what ye deem ye due." - -McDermot spoke in his most chilling tones, indifference ringing its -baleful note in each word. Moore's heart sank, but he struggled bravely -on with his hopeless task, resolved not to even acknowledge the -possibility of defeat until failure absolute and crushing should be -forced upon him beyond all denying. - -"I have decided to ask one thousand pounds in advance, sir," he began, -intending to name the royalty he hoped to be paid upon each copy of the -poem sold, but the look he received from the grim old Scotchman made him -hesitate and falter with the words upon his lips unspoken. - -"One thousand poonds!" ejaculated McDermot, terribly shocked, if the -tone in which he spoke could be regarded as a truthful indication of his -feelings. "One thousand poonds, Mr. Moore? What jest is this, sair?" - -"Is it not worth it?" stammered Moore, the blood rushing to his face. - -"Worth it? _Worth it_? You must be mad, sair. No publisher half sane -would dream o' paying ye half that in advance." - -"Oh, come now," said Moore, trying to speak unconcernedly, and scoring a -wretched failure as a result. - -"I too ha' been considering the matter o' which ye speak, Mr. Moore." - -"You mean you wish to withdraw your offer, sir?" cried Moore, in great -alarm. - -"That, Mr. Moore, is preecisely what I mean," declared McDermot, -regarding the poet from beneath his bristling brows. "I ha' decided, -sair, that I much exaggerated ye popularity as well as ye talents. This -determination, taken togither with the terms ye ha' just suggested, -leads me to wash my hands o' the whole matter. Find some ither -pooblisher, Mr. Moore. Try Longmans or Mooray." - -"Mr. McDermot," said Moore, forcing himself to speak calmly, thankful -that the publisher and he had the smoking-room to themselves, "if the -proposition I have made is unsatisfactory, pray suggest one in your -turn. I will consider any you may see fit to offer." - -McDermot coughed a little and shook his shining old head. That Moore -was in desperate need of money was quite evident. The wily old -publisher had no intention of allowing the most promising young poet of -the day to slip through his fingers, yet he was quite resolved to take -advantage of his extremity to drive him to as desperate a bargain as -could be obtained by the craft which forty years of business life had -endowed him with in addition to his natural astuteness. - -"No," said he, "I 'll not haggle wi' ye. No doubt there are ithers who -will gi' ye what ye ask." - -This last was said in a way that plainly stated his sincere conviction -that no one else would even consider the matter. - -"Oh, sir!" cried Moore, despairingly, "I have relied upon this bargain." - -"No fault o' mine, Mr. Moore, no fault o' mine, sair." - -"Do you think I would ask you to reconsider your words if I had any hope -of obtaining the money in any other quarter?" - -"Where is Lord Brooking? He should help ye if ye ask him." - -"Lord Brooking is on the Continent." - -"Really, Mr. Moore, ye accomplish nothing by this perseestance." - -"Have you no heart, Mr. McDermot?" - -"Weel, it has no voice in my business affairs, sair." - -"If you will give me one thousand pounds to-night and three hundred more -during the year you shall own and publish all that I write these two -years." - -"No, no, Mr. Moore." - -"One hundred during the year and the thousand pounds to-night, sir." - -"Let us end this useless discussion," snarled McDermot, rising from the -easy chair he had occupied until now. - -"No," cried Moore, "you shall not deny me. I 'll give you a bargain you -cannot refuse, sir. Give me one thousand pounds which shall be payment -in full for the long poem, and I will write when and how you will for -the next year at your own price. Yes, I will do this and bless you for -it. Oh, sir, it means more than life to me. It is my whole future. -It's love, it's honor. I beg that you will not use my extremity to -drive me to despair. Surely my work is worth as much as it was a week -ago when you would have gladly accepted such terms as I offer you now?" - -"That is not the question," replied McDermot, coldly. "Ha' the goodness -to get out o' my way, Mr. Moore." - -Moore seized the publisher by the arm. - -"An old man's liberty, perhaps his life; the happiness and good name of -a mere girl depend upon me, sir. I have no other way of raising the -money. Have pity." - -"I am sorry," began McDermot in cold, merciless tones, but he got no -farther. - -"Then dictate your own terms, sir. I must have one thousand pounds. -For that sum I will bind myself to anything you may propose." - -"Ye mean that, Mr. Moore?" - -"I do, sir." - -"For one thousand poonds ye will gi' me, _without further compensation_, -the entire literary labor o' your life, sair? All that ye may write so -long as ye live, Mr. Moore?" - -"Is that the best you will offer me?" - -"That's all, sair." - -"I accept your terms," said Moore in a choking voice. - -McDermot sat down at a desk near by and wrote out the check for the -desired amount. - - -Moore, accompanied by Mr. Sheridan, went in search of Sir Percival armed -with the check made payable to the order of the baronet by Mr. McDermot, -who immediately after drawing it went home to bed, entirely satisfied -with his evening's work. - -The two Irishmen found Sir Percival idly chatting with Mr. Walter Scott -and that gentleman's most intimate friend, Mr. Samuel Rogers, these two -giants being as usual surrounded by a circle of the lesser lights in the -world of literature. Their host, seeing that his company was evidently -desired, excused himself to his other guests, and the trio withdrew to a -secluded corner of the room. - -"Sir Percival," said Moore, in reply to the baronet's inquiring glance, -"I have been informed by my friend, Mr. Dyke, that he is indebted to you -for the amount of one thousand pounds." - -Sir Percival allowed an expression of gentle surprise to play over his -clever face. - -"It is quite true, Mr. Moore, but really I fail to see how the -transaction concerns you in the least." - -"Perhaps your comprehension of the affair in its entirety is quite as -unnecessary as you seem to regard the interest I feel in the matter," -replied Moore, taking the same key as his host. - -"Will you pardon me if I ask the business in regard to which you wish to -see me?" - -"Certainly, Sir Percival, I desire you to give Mr. Dyke a receipt for -one thousand pounds." - -"Tut, tut!" said the baronet, as though slightly irritated by the -apparent silliness of Moore's request. "I shall do nothing of the sort -unless I am paid in full." - -"Allow me to pay you, sir. Here are a thousand pounds." - -Sir Percival took the check from Moore, for once astonished out of his -usually indifferent demeanor. - -"The devil!" said he. - -"Yes, a publisher," replied Moore, with a wink at Sheridan. "Kindly -write me out a receipt, Sir Percival. Sherry, you will witness this -transaction?" - -"Faith, that I will gladly," said the dramatist, regarding Sir -Percival's discomfiture with a humorous twinkle in his keen old eyes. -"Damme, this is really a joyous occasion for all concerned." - -To say that Sir Percival was surprised would be but to feebly express -the feelings of that gentleman when he received payment of the debt -which he had fondly hoped would be sufficient to gain his ends with -Mistress Bessie. However, quickly rallying from his momentary -discomposure, he put the check in his pocket. - -"Believe me, gentlemen, I receive this with pleasure," said he, -scribbling off a receipt with pen and ink brought by a servant. - -"Yes, I know how pleased you are," replied Moore, politely. Then taking -the acknowledgment of liquidation from the baronet, he carefully folded -it before depositing it in his wallet. - -"Some day, Sir Percival, when the time comes for us to make a -settlement, I shall ask you for my receipt," he said in a tone that -there was no mistaking. - -"When that time comes, Mr. Moore, you will find me as eager and prompt -as yourself," replied Sir Percival. - -Moore looked his enemy calmly in the face and read there a courage fully -the equal of his own. - -"Egad, Sir Percival," said he, "for once I believe you. No doubt you -will find it in your heart to release the bailiffs from further -attendance this evening?" - -"Your suggestion is a good one, Mr. Moore," answered the baronet, -smothering his rage. "Carry to Mr. Dyke my thanks and add one more to -the list of the many kindnesses for which I am already indebted to you, -sir." - -Moore and Sheridan lost but little time in the exchange of social -amenities with their discomfited host. The younger man sought the -card-room, bent on forgetting, for a while at least, the slavery into -which he had sold his pen; the elder picked up the temporarily abandoned -thread of his intoxication without further delay. - - - - - _Chapter Twenty-One_ - - _THE POET FALLS FROM FAVOR_ - - -About fifteen minutes elapsed before some zealous courtier brought the -poem in the _Examiner_ to the attention of the Regent, who thereupon, -forgetting the presence of Mrs. FitzHerbert, who had allowed him to -overtake her a few minutes previous, swore with an ease and variety that -would have been a credit to the proverbial Billingsgate seller of fish. -As the rage of Wales was not of the repressed order, the voice of -royalty raised high in anger drew about him a crowd of courtiers who had -been eagerly expecting such an outbreak all the evening. - -"Sir Percival!" cried the Regent, catching sight of the baronet in a -distant corner where Farrell and he were enjoying the tumult consequent -on the culmination of their plot. "Have you seen this devilish set of -verses?" - -"I regret to say I have, your Highness," responded the baronet both -shocked and grieved. - -"It is infamous!" stormed Wales. "Gad's life! it is intolerable. I -devote my best efforts to my country's service only to be foully -lampooned in the public Press. Why, curse me--!" - -"Your Highness, calm yourself, I beg of you," said Mrs. FitzHerbert, -soothingly, but the Prince was not to be so easily restrained. - -"Calm, indeed?" he shouted. "Calm, when such damnable insults are -written and printed? Not I, madame." - -"Rise superior to this malicious attack," persisted the beauty, little -pleased that her influence should fail so publicly. "Remember your -greatness, sir." - -"A lion may be stung into anger by a gadfly, madame," retorted Wales, -growing even more furious. "Brummell, have you read this infernal poem?" - -"Not I, your Highness," replied the Beau, who, accompanied by Moore, had -forsaken the card-table at the first outburst of royal wrath. - -"Then do so now," commanded the enraged Regent, thrusting the paper into -his hands. - -Brummell ran his eyes hurriedly over the verses, while Wales continued -pacing up and down the now crowded room in unabating fury. - -"I saw them earlier in the evening, your Highness," said Sheridan, -unable to keep his oar out of the troubled waters. - -"Oh, did you, indeed?" demanded Wales. "And no doubt chuckled like the -devil over them?" - -"Your Highness!" said the aged wit, trying to speak reproachfully, in -spite of an internal laugh that threatened to break out and ruin him. - -"I believe you are quizzing me now if the truth were known," asserted -the Prince, wrathfully suspicious. "If I am not mistaken, these lines -sound marvellously like the work of your pen, sirrah." - -"On my honor you wrong me, Sire," declared Sheridan, in a tone so -unmistakably truthful that Wales could not doubt his entire innocence. - -"May I not see the poem, Mr. Brummell?" asked Dyke, who had just entered -the room. - -The Beau obligingly handed over the paper to the old gentleman. As the -old rhymer turned away, Moore looked over his shoulder and, scanning -with eager eyes the page in quest of the satire which had so enraged the -Regent, found it before the elder man's less keen sight had performed a -like service for him. Moore turned sick with horror and clutched the -nearest chair for support. How had the verses found their way into -print? Dyke was ruined if it were proved that he wrote them. Bessie, -too, would feel the weight of the Regent's displeasure, and without -doubt would be deprived of her position at Drury Lane for her father's -additional punishment. He had saved them from one disaster only to see -them plunged hopelessly into another almost as dire. - -A groan from the unhappy author announced that he, too, had recognized -his poem. The next moment he turned on Moore with a look of despair on -his usually placid face. - -"Tom," he whispered, "you have ruined me. My poem is printed. Oh, Tom, -how could you? How could you?" - -"Surely you do not believe that I gave it to the Press?" said Moore, -hoarsely, stung to the heart by the accusing look he read in his old -friend's eyes. - -"Who else could have done it? I gave you the only copy three months -ago." - -"I remember, sir. Ah, I can explain it. I left my garret in the -afternoon and went for a stroll. When I returned home I found Sir -Percival and Farrell there. Since that day I have never thought of it. -They have done this, Mr. Dyke." - -"I do not believe you," answered Dyke in a voice so scornful and -suspicious that Moore felt as though he had received a blow in the face. - -Meanwhile Wales's anger had not cooled in the least. - -"Egad!" he was saying, "if I but knew the author's name!" - -"There is still a chance, Mr. Dyke," whispered Moore. "Deny all -knowledge of the matter. Swear you did not write it if necessary." - -"Is it impossible to learn the identity of the writer?" asked Brummell -seriously. - -"Impossible?" repeated Wales. "Of course it is impossible, Beau! You -do not think he will acknowledge this slander as his own, do you?" - -"It does seem unlikely," admitted the exquisite. - -"So unlikely," snorted the Prince, "that I 'd give a thousand pounds to -find the rascal out." - -Farrell, spurred on by a nudge from the elbow of his patron, stepped -forward. - -"Your Highness," said he, calmly, "I accept your offer." - -Wales gazed at the dapper young law student in surprise. - -"You know the author of this attack upon me, sir?" he asked. - -"I do," answered Farrell, firmly. - -Moore, resolved to anticipate and if possible prevent the accusation of -Dyke which he felt sure was about to follow, stepped hurriedly forward. - -"One moment, your Highness," said he. "Do you know this gentleman? He -is a liar, a blackleg, and a coward, unworthy of your Highness' belief -or consideration." - -"Curse you," began Farrell, white to his lips with shame and passion, -but Moore did not allow him to finish. - -"I struck him in Ireland, yet he never resented my insult. Think, your -Highness, is such a poltroon worthy of belief?" - -"Sire!" stammered Farrell. - -"Damn your private quarrels!" roared Wales, turning on Moore. "Have I -not my own wrongs to resent, that you must annoy me with yours now?" - -"He will lie to you as he has to others, Sire," replied Moore, refusing -to be silenced. - -"That remains to be seen, sirrah." - -Sir Percival stepped out of the throng surrounding the angry Prince, -smiling and debonair as usual. - -"I will answer for the truth of any statement Mr. Farrell may make, -Sire," said he. - -"Continue," growled the Prince, waving Moore back with an impatient -gesture. - -"Your Highness," said Farrell, quick to take advantage of his -opportunity, "the author of this vile attack upon you is one of your -friends, a favorite protege, who, owing all to your favor, thus rewards -your kindness by base ingratitude. To your Highness he owes everything; -thus he repays you." - -"His name?" demanded Wales. - -There was a moment's pause, during which silence reigned, as Farrell -artfully hesitated in his reply that, thus delayed, it might fall with -even more crushing effect upon the object of his hatred. Short as was -the time, it sufficed for Moore. Convinced that this was the only -opportunity which would be afforded him to avert the disaster he -believed to be about to overtake the father of the girl he had loved so -truly and patiently, he resolved not to let it pass unutilized. - -"I wrote that poem," he cried. "I am the author whose name your -Highness would know." - -"You, Moore?" gasped the Prince, astonished by what he had heard. - -Dyke made a move forward, but Moore gripped his arm. - -"For Bessie's sake," he whispered. "Now do you believe me?" - -"But, Tom--" - -"Hush, sir," said Moore, thrusting Sir Percival's receipt into Dyke's -hand. "Read that, and be silent if you love your daughter." - -Wales, pale with fury, had stood for a moment in utter silence. Then, -as he recovered speech, his voice sounded hoarsely, but under perfect -control. - -"Sir Percival," he said slowly, "call a carriage for Mr. Moore." - -Turning to Mrs. FitzHerbert, he offered her his arm, and with her at his -side walked deliberately from the room. Sir Percival started toward the -door, a triumphant smile upon his sneering mouth, but Moore stopped him, -and for a moment the two stood face to face. Suddenly the desperate -expression left the countenance of the poet, and he smiled as gayly as -though he had just received from the Prince a mark of esteem instead of -a disgraceful dismissal. - -"You heard his Highness' order, my man?" - -He seemed to be addressing a servant, if one could judge from the tone -in which he spoke. - -"Then call my carriage, lackey!" - -"Lackey!" cried Sir Percival, red with rage at the insult, thus forced -upon him. - -"Aye, lackey," repeated Moore, defiant and sneering in his turn. "And -here is your pay!" - -As he spoke, he struck the baronet a stinging slap in the face; then -turned and strolled elegantly from the room. - - -Thus it was that Mr. Thomas Moore quitted the world of Fashion, which -but a scant three months before he had entered in triumph by grace of -the favor of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. - - - - - Book Four - - - -"_If every rose with gold were tied,_ - _Did gems for dewdrops fall,_ -_One faded leaf where love had sighed_ - _Were sweetly worth them all._" - - - - _Chapter Twenty-Two_ - - _TOM MOORE RECEIVES A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE_ - - -The morning after his enforced but by no means inglorious departure from -Sir Percival's house, Mr. Thomas Moore met his disgruntled host near the -Serpentine in Hyde Park, but the duel was productive of little -satisfaction to either of the parties concerned, as Moore, never having -held a pistol in his hands before, missed his antagonist by at least ten -feet, receiving in return a bullet that sang a melody new to him as it -clipped its way through his hair. Sir Percival's honor was declared -vindicated, as his having made a target of himself for Moore's shooting -was considered to totally erase all stain put upon his personal -character by the vigorous slap he had received from the poet. - -Moore escaped unhurt, though minus a few locks of hair,--a loss which -was not without significance as an indication of Sir Percival's good -intentions. The young Irishman was naturally convinced that at this -particular game he was no match for his sneering enemy, and considered -himself lucky to have escaped with his life, an opinion that was shared -by both Sir Percival and Terence Farrell, for the baronet was an expert -marksman, and had never doubted that he would end all rivalry between -himself and Moore with the bullet he aimed at his opponent that morning. -However, his opportunity to so rid himself of his rival had come and -gone, for he was far too wise to endeavor to force another quarrel upon -Moore, even though the latter had fallen from favor, for more than one -harsh criticism was made on the unequal nature of their encounter. Sir -Percival's skill was widely known, and a no less deservedly popular -individual than Mr. Sheridan took pains to circulate the truth -concerning Moore's shortcomings as a pistol shot. Even his Highness saw -fit to remark to the baronet that it was "a demned one-sided affair," -and that Sir Percival's reputation, had he killed Moore, might have -become "even a little more unsavory," comments which led the latter to -doubt the permanency of the poet's disgrace and exile, but, as he kept -these suspicions to himself, by the world in general Tom Moore was -considered a ruined man. - -On returning from their meeting in Hyde Park in the early morning, Moore -discreetly abandoned his comfortable apartments, and, in spite of the -protests and lamentations of Mrs. Malone, resumed the occupancy of the -shabby attic from which the Prince's kindness had a few months before -rescued him. - -"No," said Moore, determinedly, to his landlady. "I 'm out of favor now -and I 'll be saving of my pennies till I 'm righted again, if that shall -ever be, which God knows and I 'm ignorant of, worse luck." - -Buster and Lord Castlereagh moved up the several flights between the -poet's latest and earliest abiding-places with their master, and seemed -actually glad to be back in their old quarters. Their cheerfulness -could be easily accounted for. Rat-holes were an unknown commodity on -the first floor, though numerous in the attic, and the dignity of -behavior Buster thought incumbent on him to assume in honor of rising -fortune had proved irksome in the extreme to that worthy youth. - -Leaving the lad to attend to the details of the removal, Moore, after -signing his contract with McDermot, sought the soothing comforts of the -country, as was his custom when in trouble, and hied himself to a little -fishing village not far distant. - - * * * * * - -One afternoon a week later Buster was seated in his favorite attitude, -his chair tipped back on its rear legs and his feet, considerably higher -than his head, supported by the table, idly contemplating the daily mail -which had just been delivered. - -There were only two letters. Up to the time of the withdrawal of -Wales's favor, there were usually a score or so calling for the poet's -inspection each day, but the reprimand of the week before had had -immediate effect upon Moore's correspondence, and while numerous of his -more intimate friends remained loyal throughout the whole period of his -disgrace, there were many others only too prompt to show the utter -shallowness of their pretence of regard by immediately abandoning him to -what they believed would be permanent ruin. - -One of the two letters in Buster's possession had a plump outline that -seemed to indicate an inclosure of some bulk. This had the name of the -_Gazette_ printed upon it. Buster shook his head disgustedly. The size -of the missive seemed ominous. The other letter was neutral in -impression-giving. It might hold a check, or it might announce the -return of a manuscript under separate cover, but it certainly did -possess possibilities. - -Buster sighed and, as was his wont, addressed himself to the bulldog, -who from the window was solemnly contemplating the passing throng on the -street below. - -"That's a nice mile for a poet hof the maggietood hof Mr. Moore, haint -it, your lordship? Cuss 'em, they thinks we is down to st'y, don't -they? Well, we 'll show 'em a thing hor two before we gets through." - -The bulldog regarded his master admiringly over his brawny shoulder, and -switched his butt of a tail vigorously back and forth upon the floor. -This manoeuvre sent fluttering a bit of paper that lay near him, and -Lord Castlereagh, becoming immediately persuaded that he had a butterfly -within easy reach, leaped vigorously in pursuit. - -"You 're a fool," remarked Buster, as the animal scuttled across the -floor in delighted chase of the paper. Then, waxing philosophical, he -continued, "Hit wuz hever thus. We wacks hup suthin' with hour tiles -that flies, hand we thinks hit his fime and fortune, hand pursoos hit -only to find hout we 'as bilked hourselves wid a kimming-reror hor fast -fiding plant-has-me-goryer." - -Absurdly satisfied with himself for having rid his mind of such -important and many-jointed words successfully, Buster began to whistle, -playing a merry tune more or less reminiscent of "Sally in Our Alley" on -an instrument which his master had presented to him the first week of -their acquaintance. This was none other than the whistle that Moore had -made the very afternoon on which he quarrelled with Bessie at the -schoolhouse,--a bit of manufacturing he had often since regretted, for -Buster had treasured it carefully, and was much given to using it for -shrill improvisation, as well as careful rendition of the various airs -then popular with the masses, finding it particularly adapted to the -high notes of "The Last Rose of Summer," then in the heyday of its -success. - -Suddenly he felt his chair tip backward in a manner quite unwarranted by -the care with which he was maintaining a delicate balance, and jumped to -his feet with a loud yell, finding himself, when he turned, face to face -with Mrs. Malone, who had entered unnoticed, the sound of her heavy -tread being drowned by his melody. - -"Fur goodness' sike!" he exclaimed wrathfully, "you must n't do sich -rambunctious things, hole woman. You just scared me houter seven years' -growth hand I can't hafford to lose no sich hamount." - -"Niver mind thot," replied the landlady. "It's many the fright you 've -given me, you little tinker. Is Mr. Moore back from the country?" - -"See 'ere, his n't the rent pide?" demanded Buster. - -"Av course it's paid," replied Mrs. Malone, scornfully. "D' ye t'ink I -have no t'oughts at all but about me rint?" - -"Well," confessed Buster, "once hupon a time, hit sorter looked has 'ow -you wuz bestowing considerable medication hupon that topic. Hif hit did -n't, bli' me, that's hall, just bli' me." - -"Is Mr. Moore back from the country?" repeated Mrs. Malone. - -"Yes, your Majesty," replied the boy, with a low obeisance. "'Ee his. -'Ee returned this werry noon from the 'onts hof nachoor." - -"It is just a week since he wint away," observed Mrs. Malone, -reflectively. - -"'Ow does yer keep count?" asked Buster, surprised at the accuracy of -her remark. - -"Faith, thot 's an easy mather," she answered, sagely. "Has n't -Misthress Dyke called to see him sivin times?" - -"She 'as, your 'Ighness, she 'as." - -"That's once for each day, and siven days makes a week, does n't it?" - -"Hi never wuz a good 'and hat arithmetic, but Hi 'as faith in the -correctness of your calculation," responded Buster. - -"Siven times has she called and so disapinted each time that he has n't -returned. Did yez give her his adthress?" - -"Hi did not, coz has 'ow Hi expected 'im 'ome hevery day. Hit 'll do -'er good, Mrs. Malone. Disappointments is disciplinationary, hand -disciplination his wot womens need. Hit mikes 'em contented like. Oh, -Hi tells yer, Mrs. Malone, my wife 'll be han 'appy female. She'll 'ave -a master, she will." - -Mrs. Malone gave the boy a vigorous push that sent him staggering, and -as Lord Castlereagh neglected to get out of the way, boy and dog -suddenly assumed recumbent and by no means graceful attitudes upon the -floor. - -"Arrah, get out o' thot," she remarked, complacently viewing the -disaster she had wrought. - -"My heye!" said Buster, in an astonished tone, "wot his this hany 'ow? -His hit according to London prize ring rules, hor just knock down hand -drag habout till death do hus part?" - -"Give me no more airs, you little puckorn. The size of yez, talking -about the holy state of matrimony!" said Mrs. Malone, rebukingly, as -Buster climbed up to his feet, slightly jarred by the force with which -he had taken his seat. "Did yez tell Mr. Moore that the young lady -called?" - -"No, Hi did not, Mrs. Malone, you hinquisitive ole party." - -"Why not, me bucko?" - -"Coz Hi wishes to surprise 'im, that's w'y," said the boy defiantly. -"Hand hif you lays 'and hon me agin, Hi 'll 'ave Lord Castlereagh bite -you good hand 'arty where it 'll do you the most good hand be the least -missed." - -"Niver mind thot." - -"Hi won't hif you won't, Hi 'm sure, Mrs. Malone, and as for the young -lidy, she has n't been 'ere to-day," said Buster. - -"Oh, never fear," returned Mrs. Malone. "Shell come, and it's glad I am -that he 's back agin." - -"W'y? Did you miss 'im?" - -"Niver mind. It's the young leddy I 'm tinking of. Faith, suppose she -got discouraged and stopped a-coming?" - -"That 'ud show she was n't worth 'aving," replied Buster wisely. "Now -see 'ere, Mrs. Malone, w'en she comes Hi wants you to let 'er hup widout -hany announcement. Does you 'ear?" - -"Oh, I hears, but for phwat should I do that, Mr. Buster?" - -"You just leave it to me, your 'Ighness. Hi knows how these haffairs -should be conducted." - -"Oh, yez do, do yez?" said Mrs. Malone in a derisive tone, as she ambled -toward the door. "It's in an orphan asylum yez ought to be." - -"Not hat all," retorted Buster. "Hi 'as no time to waste hon 'aving -horphings." - -The worthy landlady met Moore in the hall as she quitted his apartments, -and overwhelmed him with the heartiness of her welcome, but, mindful of -Buster's instructions, said never a word concerning the visits of -Mistress Dyke. Moore, having made as speedy an escape as was possible -without wounding the old woman's feelings, entered the attic, being -received with much doggish delight by Lord Castlereagh, who seemed to -ignore the fact that he had ceased to be a puppy several years before. - -"Good hevening, Mr. Moore," said Buster politely, about to deliver the -post to his master. - -"Good evening, _Montgomery_," replied Moore, severely, drawing off his -gloves. - -"Montgomery?" echoed the boy, thoroughly disgusted. "Ho, don't call me -that, sir, please don't." - -"Well, that's your name, isn't it?" - -"Ho, Hi knows hit, alas!" said Buster, in an injured tone. "Hi knows -hit only too well. Wen Hi wuz too little to defend myself w'en put -hupon, my hole woman hup and christens me Montgomery Julien Hethelbert, -hand 'itches hit hon to the family nime hof Spinks." - -"Montgomery Julien Ethelbert--" - -"_Spinks_. Yes sir, that's hit. Wuz n't that a crime? That's wot -stunted my growth, most likely." - -"It seems plausible," observed Moore, in secret vastly amused. - -"Yes, hit do," continued the boy, sadly. "Say, sir, won't you allus -call me Buster?" - -"No, sir," responded Moore, sternly. "You were fighting again this -afternoon. As punishment for your pugilistic propensities I refuse to -call you Buster again to-day." - -"Ho, law!" exclaimed Buster, "but this 'ere punishment is horful. We -wuz honly 'aving a gime, sir, just playin' like." - -"Indeed? I happened to see you myself this time. I won't have you half -killing the neighbors' children that way." - -"You saw me? Oh, Hi say, was n't that a helegant gesture w'en I soaked -'im hon the nob? Did n't Hi do 'im hup brown, eh? Hand that jolt hin -the bread-basket wid my left fisty. Ho, that cert'nly wuz a pet!" - -"Montgomery Julien," began the poet, severely. - -The lad wilted. - -"Ho, don't, sir, don't. Hit makes me _that_ fretful," he said -pleadingly. "Hi 'll reform, really Hi will." - -"Do so, then," said Moore. "And remember, if I ever hear of your -fighting again, I 'll never call you anything but Montgomery." - -"Yessir," replied Buster, with a low bow. "Hi 'ears, hand to 'ear his -to hobey. Hi retires from the prize ring to-day, hand my champeenship -Hi resigns to the red-'eaded butcher boy hacross the w'y. 'Ere 's the -post, sir." - -Moore took the two letters from the lad and sat down beside the table to -examine them. - -"From publishers, h'aren't they?" said Buster interestedly. - -Moore nodded. - -"That they are, lad," he answered, opening the first as he spoke. "Ah, -here is an inclosure." - -"Hinside?" asked Buster, eagerly. - -"Where else?" demanded the poet. "Did you think it would be wrapped -around the outside? From the _Gazette_. One pound. Good. A pound is -better than ten shillings any day." - -"Ha munth hagow hit 'ud 'ave been ten pun," said Buster, shaking his -round head. - -"But it's nine well lost," answered Moore, adding to himself, "aye, well -lost, since it is for Bessie's sake." - -He found a note inside and read it aloud. - - -"MR. THOMAS MOORE-- - -"DEAR SIR,--Inclosed find one pound in payment for your poem, -'Inconstancy,' which, owing to your present unpopularity, we feel -compelled to print under the name Thomas Little." - - -"Hi likes their imperence," cried Buster in disgust. "'Little,' indeed!" - -"That accounts for the size of the check, no doubt," observed the poet. -"Two days ago it was 'Tom Brown;' next week it will be 'Tom Green' or -'Tom Fool.' However, it does n't matter if Tom Moore gets the money." - -"Hi 'll let 'em use my nime," suggested the lad in noble self-sacrifice. -"My folks his all dead, so the publis'ty won't kill 'em. Montgomery -Julien Hethelbert would look grite hin print." - -"I quite agree with you," said Moore, laughing. "Ah, Buster, me boy, -it's sweet to be back in the old place. I 'd not give it, bare and ugly -as it is, for one of the fine places I 've wined and dined in since -leaving it, if Bessie were only here to brighten it for me." - -Buster looked around him comprehensively. - -"Hit does need cleaning hup a bit," he said apologetically. "Hi 'll see -wot Hi can do to-morrer." - -"And you say there has been no letter for me from her?" continued Moore. - -"Not one letter, sir," replied Buster. - -"And you have n't seen her, Buster?" - -The boy gave a yell of pain, and slapped his hand to his face, at the -same time executing a double shuffle with his feet. - -"What ails you, lad?"' asked the poet in astonishment. - -"My toot' haches me," explained Buster, who had invented this complaint -by way of diverting his master's inquiries. - -"Fall in love, Buster," advised Moore, "and the pain in your heart will -make you forget the pain in your tooth." - -"Hit's better now, sir," announced the boy, jubilant that he had kept -his master from all knowledge of Mistress Dyke without real denial of -her visits. - -"Now for the other letter," said Moore. - -This was the bulky package. Buster's suspicions that it inclosed a -disappointment proved not unfounded, for there was a manuscript poem -folded within. - -"Humph," grunted Moore, scornfully. "What bad taste they display. - - -"'MR. THOMAS MOORE-- - -"'DEAR SIR,--In view of your present unpopularity--' - - -Oh, I hate that d--n word, Buster." - -"Hit is a bit narsty," assented the boy. - - -"--we feel obliged to return your poem entitled 'To Bessie.'" - - -"Confound them!" - -Unfolding the poem, Moore ran his eye over its neatly written lines. - -At this moment the door behind him opened softly, and Bessie crept in as -quietly as any mouse. Buster saw her, and, leaning over the table, -asked his master to read him the rejected verses. - -"Certainly, Buster, since you wish it," said Moore, good-naturedly. "It -will help on your literary education." - -"That hit will, sir," said Buster, stepping where he could motion Bessie -to remain silent without being detected by his master. - -"'To Bessie,'" announced Moore, beginning to read, little thinking that -the girl was so near. - - "Tho' brimmed with blessings, pure and rare, - Life's cup before me lay, - Unless thy love were mingled there - I 'd spurn the draught away. - - "Without thy smile the monarch's lot - To me were dark and lone, - While, with it, even the humblest cot - Were brighter than his throne. - - "Those worlds for which the conqueror sighs - For me would have no charms, - My only world thy gentle eyes, - My throne thy circling arms." - - -Suddenly a pair of soft round arms were around his neck, and the poem he -had just read with such love and tenderness was plucked from his grasp -without warning. - -Moore sprang to his feet with a low cry of surprise. - -"Bessie," he said, incredulously. "You?" - -"Don't you know me?" she asked with a little pout, as Buster, followed -by the bulldog, stole discreetly from the room. "Have you forgotten how -I look so soon?" - -"Forgotten?" he echoed. "Is it likely, Bessie?" - -"You seem surprised to see me." - -"I can't deny that," he answered in wonder. "Forgive me if I ask to what -I am indebted for this visit?" - -"Oh," said Bessie, indifferently, "I came to see if you have written any -more poems about the Prince. Tom, how could you do it? He was so fond -of you." - -"That may be," replied Moore, assuming a dignified air, "but I can't let -friendship interfere with my politics." - -"Then it was your duty, Tom?" - -"It was my duty," he answered, gloomily. - -"I think you were unpardonable," said the girl. - -"I see," replied Moore, "you came to reproach me, Bessie." - -"What a deceitful fellow you are," she went on, shaking her pretty head -in a sad way. - -"I am," admitted the poet. "I am. Go on, Bessie, don't spare me." - -She advanced a step or two as he, at a loss to understand why she was -thus baiting him, turned bitterly away. - -"I can't spare you," she said sternly. - -"So it seems," he murmured, not looking at her, lest the sight of her -girlish beauty make the pain in his heart too great to be endured. - -"I can't spare you," she repeated, "I can't spare you," but this time -her tone was one of loving tenderness and he turned to look at her in -surprise. - -She was standing with outstretched arms, her face eager and adoring, the -old light shining soft and clear in her eyes. - -"Without you, Tom, there is no happiness for me. Tom dear, Tom darling, -can't you see I 've come here because I love you?" - -"What?" he exclaimed, and then, mindful of past disappointments, he -raised his hand imploringly. "You are sure you are not joking this -time?" - -"Joking?" she repeated, advancing toward him. "Let this assure you." - -As she spoke she kissed him full on the mouth, not once but thrice. - -"Now are you convinced I am in earnest?" she asked shyly. - -"Partly," he replied, still unable to fully realize that she had -surrendered at last. "Convince me some more, Bessie." - -Then as she kissed him again, he folded her in his arms and held her to -his heart so tightly that she released herself with a little gasp. - -"Please remember, sir, that I have to breathe," she remonstrated. - -"I forgot everything, except that I had you in my arms," he answered. -"Ah, Bessie darlin', my heart was breaking for you. I love you so much, -dearest." - -He embraced her again, and pressed her soft cool cheek to his, and it -must be admitted she appeared to enjoy this proceeding as much as he -did. - -"Sure," he whispered, "if heaven is half as sweet as this let me die -to-morrow." - -"You took the blame to save my father. Oh, Tom, I 'll never forgive -you." - -"Keep on not forgiving me," he suggested, for she had given him another -kiss. - -"I made him tell me," said she, complying with his request before -sitting down by the table, "but the next day you had gone." - -"I know," said Moore, "I went out into the country. It helped me, as it -always does. It comforted me, but not as you have done." - -"And while you were gone I came here every day to see if you had -returned." - -"What is that?" he demanded. "You came here, dearest?" - -Bessie nodded gleefully. - -"I did not miss a day, not even Sunday," she said. - -"That little devil of a Buster!" cried Moore, glaring around the attic -in quest of him. "The imp! Wait till I lay my hands upon him!" - -"He didn't tell you, Tom?" - -"Not a word. If I had known, it is no sight of me the trees and the -fields would have had." - -Bessie rose from her chair, and stepping back a little distance, looked -archly at her lover. - -"Have you forgotten what you said?" she asked. - -"Since I don't remember, I think I must have," said Moore puzzled. - -"Then I 'll tell you, sir." - -"That's good of you, Bessie," said he. - -"You told me I would have to ask you to marry me," she answered, a -little timidly. "Tom dear, I love you; will you be my husband?" - -"This is so sudden," said Moore, and he sat down in the chair she had -vacated. - -"What is your answer, Tom?" she asked, almost anxiously. - -"I 'll have to be wooed further before I give it," he declared, keenly -relishing the situation. - -"I 'll do it," she murmured. "I 'll do it. Tom, I love you better than -all the world. With all my heart and soul I love you." - -She knelt beside him and drew his head down on her shoulder. - -"I love you," she whispered again, and held him close. - -"But," he sighed in happy endurance of the unwonted attentions he was -receiving, "Why do you love me so desperately? Is it because of my -beauty or my goodness?" - -"It's both, Tom." - -"Oh, I have it," he exclaimed, "it's my wealth." - -"Tom," she said reproachfully and rose to her feet, but before she could -reprimand him for his last assertion his arm was around her waist. - -"Bessie dear," he said solemnly, "do you know, for a moment in the joy -of your coming I forgot my poverty." - -"I did not, Tom," she answered. - -"You are an angel of love and beauty, dear girl; you have taken a load -from my heart and brightened my life this day. I can't tell you how I -adore you, how grateful I am for what you have said to me, but I cannot -marry you." - -"Tom," she cried reproachfully. "Do you think I do not know of that -wretched bargain to which you were driven by that terrible publisher?" - -"Who told you?" - -"Mr. Sheridan." - -"Will that old Irishman never learn to keep his mouth shut?" - -"Never, while he can do good to a friend by opening it, Tom." - -"I 'll sue him if he keeps on." - -"That does n't seem to do much good, dear lad; I 've been suing ever -since I came here this afternoon, and I do not seem to have accomplished -anything. Tom, say we shall be married soon, there 's a dear." - -"Bessie," he said slowly, holding her at arm's length, so that he could -look deep into her eyes, "I 'll have to get a clerkship somewhere before -that can be. My whole literary work is mortgaged for the future." - -"You shall not keep that wicked agreement, Tom." - -"Oh, Bessie, a promise is a promise," said Moore. "When I have found a -position I 'll consider your proposal of marriage. Can't you see, dear, -what poor proof of my love for you it would be to allow you to share my -present lot? Think how we should struggle, perhaps almost starve." - -"I should not care if I were with you," she said. - -"But I, Bessie? It would break my heart to know you were bearing such -desolation for love of me." - -"Where there is love there can be no desolation." - -Moore's voice shook as he answered her, but he remained firm in his -determination. - -"You are the bravest girl in all the world, Bessie, but even your sweet -words shan't make me close my eyes to the truth. We will go on as we -are now. I 'll fight it out, and when I am satisfied that I can offer -you one tithe of what you deserve, if God wills that I succeed, I 'll -come to you with open arms. I 've no head for business. It's a new -world I 'll have to conquer, dear. We must wait and I 'll not let you -bind yourself to me. Perhaps there will be some one else some day--" - -She stopped his mouth with a kiss. - -"How can you be so cruel?" she half sobbed. "There can never be any one -but you." - -"But," he said mischievously, "you took so long to make up your mind, I -thought--" - -"Tom, you don't love me or you would not tease me so." - -"Oh, if you are to be believed, teasing is no sign of indifference," -said Moore. "It's a leaf from the book you wrote me this last year that -you are reading now, Bessie!" - -"You are so obstinate," she sighed. "Ah, Tom, you will succeed in spite -of all. I know you will." - -"Then, dearest, let us wait. Think, how can I expect you to obey me as -my wife if you disobey me as a sweetheart?" - -"But," said the girl, pouting, "I am not used to being rejected." - -"_I am_," said he. "It is good experience." - -"I suppose I 'll have to let you have your way." - -"I suppose you will, Bessie." - -"Father is coming after me in half an hour," she continued, taking off -her hat as she spoke. - -"So soon?" responded Moore, regretfully. - -There was a knock on the door. - -"Come in," said Bessie, quite at home as lady of the house. - -"What is that?" said Moore, looking at her. - -"Come in," she repeated, blushing as she realized her presumption. - -"So you have established yourself already?" said the poet, his eyes -twinkling, as he opened the door. - -It was Mrs. Malone, resplendent in the best her wardrobe could afford. - - - - - _Chapter Twenty-Three_ - - _THE POET HAS CALLERS AND GIVES A DINNER-PARTY_ - - -"Good avening, Misther Moore. Oh, it's yourself, Mistress Dyke? The -top of the afternoon, darling. I just dropped in for a moment to tell -yez the news." - -"Ah," said Moore, hopefully, "the rent has been lowered, I suppose?" - -"You will have your joke, Misther Moore," chuckled the landlady, sitting -down in the chair Moore placed for her. - -"And you 'll have your rent, eh, Mrs. Malone?" - -"Tom," said Bessie, "do be still. What is the news, Mrs. Malone?" - -"You are a couple of gossips," declared Moore, sitting on the table -between Bessie and the old woman. "Oh, well, scandal is the spice of -life they say." - -"Well," began Mrs. Malone, in a tone appropriate to the importance of -her story, "it seems that Sweeny, who kapes the grocery next door but -two, has been having throuble with his darter." - -"My, oh, my!" exclaimed Moore, properly horrified at the unfilial -behavior of the young person mentioned. - -"Hush, Tom," - -"Why don't he spank the girl?" demanded the poet. "If my daughter--" - -"Tom!" said Bessie, giving him a reproving pinch. - -"Well, I mean if ever I have a daughter." - -"When you have will be time enough to tell about her, won't it, Mrs. -Malone." - -"Faith," said that hopeful old female, "I luvs to hear young couples -planning for the future." - -"Go on out of that," said Moore, shaking with laughter, while Bessie was -visibly discomposed. "You make me blush, Mrs. Malone." - -"I niver t'ought I 'd do thot," observed the landlady. "I t'inks that -must be one of your kump'ny manners. Howiver, to continyer." - -"I would if I were you, Mrs. Malone." - -"Well how can I, if yez kape on bletherin'?" - -"I 'm silent as the grave, Mrs. Malone." - -"Jane Sweeny is the purtiest gal in the neighborhood--" - -"Bar one, Mrs. Malone, bar one," interrupted Moore. - -"Prisent company is always accepted," said the landlady, politely -wagging her frilled cap till it creaked in its starchy immaculateness. - -"If you had been here a few moments ago, you would have heard it -refused," said Bessie, ruefully. - -"Who is interrupting now?" demanded Moore in wrathful tones. - -"Well, the lassie has took up kapin kump'ny on the sly wid some strange -laddybuck, whom nobody knows a t'ing about, and will hardly look at the -dairyman's son Ike, wid whom she has been thrainin' these t'ree years." - -"The faithless hussy!" ejaculated the poet, in scathing condemnation. - -"Hush!" said Bessie, now scenting a love story, and correspondingly -interested. - -"So Isaac--that's the son of the dairyman, you know--" - -"I 'm satisfied on that point, if the dairyman is," observed Moore, -wickedly. - -Bessie took a pin from her dress. - -"I 'll punch you with this if you don't behave, Tom Moore." - -"Is that a joke, Bessie?" - -"Yes, you 'll think so." - -"Well, I won't be able to see the point of it if you perforate me. Go -on, Mrs. Malone." - -"So he swore he 'd get even--" - -"The dairyman? Oh, then he _did_ have his doubts after all? Whom did -he suspect, Mrs. Malone?" - -Moore leaped off the table just in time to escape a vicious thrust from -the pin, as Mrs. Malone, good-naturedly indifferent to his interruption, -continued her recital. - -"Ike thracked the fine fellow home, or at least as far as he could, and -though he lost sight of him without locatin' his house, he learned -beyond all doubtin' that he is a great gentleman of wealth and fashion." - -"Ike is? I 'll have to look him up if that is so," said Moore, -pleasantly. "Evidently the dairyman was right to be suspicious, and -what does Mrs. Dairyman say now?" - -"I 'm not talkin' about Ike," replied Mrs. Malone, scornfully. "It's -the strange lad who is the rich man." - -"Oh, I see, Mrs. Malone. I thought you had discovered the reason for -the dairyman's suspicions. Now I think he was quite unreasonable to have -his doubts." - -"Go on, Mrs. Malone. I think it is delightfully romantic," said Bessie, -paying no attention to the remarks of her lover. - -"Romantic!" repeated Moore, in a disgusted tone. "Sure, put a bit of a -scoundrel after a lass of lower station and instead of shouting for the -watch she always says 'How romantic!' - -"You will have to leave the room, if you speak again before Mrs. Malone -has finished her story," said Bessie, severely. - -"So, by hook or by crook, who should get wind of Misther Gay Spark, but -Sweeny himself." - -Mrs. Malone paused dramatically, that the awful news of the situation -should have time to take effect. - -"Oh, dear!" said Bessie, "how terrible for poor Jane. Do tell me the -rest without delay. I 'm getting so excited." - -"I 'll not sleep to-night, thinking of it," declared Moore. "Really, -Mrs. Malone, you do wrong to harrow up our feelings in this thrilling -manner. Well, Jennie is discovered, and then--?" - -"Then Sweeny learned that the unknown gintilman was to meet her -to-night." - -"How did he learn that?" asked Moore, greatly interested. - -"From Jane." - -"That girl talks too much. She does n't deserve to be the flame of such -a spark," said the poet, utterly disgusted with the heroine of the tale. - -"Niver mind thot. So Sweeny has locked up the gal in her room--" - -"Alone?" - -"Faith, who would be likely to be with her, sorr?" - -"Well, you said something about a gay incognito, did n't you?" suggested -Moore. - -"I niver did in me loife. I 'll have yez to understand, Misther Moore, -I 'd scorn to use such profane langwidge. I 'm a dacent Catholic, as -Father O'Houlihan will tell yez, if yez ask him." - -"I 'll ask him the next time I see him," said Moore. "It is always best -to be sure about these things. But go on, Mrs. Malone." - -"Where was I?" - -"You were locked up in the room with Jane Sweeny." - -"I wuz not, sorr." - -"I 'm sure it could n't have been with Sir Incognito," said Moore, -shocked. - -"If I wuz locked up wid Jane Sweeny how could I be here now?" demanded -the landlady. - -"Perhaps you made a ladder of the bedclothes, and let yourself down from -the window," suggested the poet. - -"I did not, sorr," replied Mrs. Malone, quite puzzled by the web in -which her lodger had entangled her. - -"Then I 'll give it up, as I never was a good hand at conundrums," said -Moore, bubbling over with merriment. "Go on with your story about -Father O'Houlihan's gay friend." - -"Well anniehow, Isaac and Sweeny and some other of the byes is laying -for Masther Gay Spark." - -"For what purpose, Mrs. Malone?" - -"For what do yez t'ink?" - -"Perhaps they wish to present him with the freedom of the city and a -service of silver plate." - -"Not much," said Mrs. Malone. "They are going to bate his head off for -him, thot's what they are going to do." - -"Are n't they good-natured, Bessie?" said Moore. "I hope he will see the -humorous side of the affair and treat it all as a joke." - -"Well, it will be no laughing matter," said Mrs. Malone, stoutly. "As I -said before, they 'll make jelly of Masther Gay Spark." - -"How terrible!" said Bessie, half frightened. - -"Quite," said Moore. "He 'll have a sugary time I 'm thinking, for if -heaven don't preserve him, Sweeny will turn him into jelly. I 'm afraid -he will be badly jammed one way or another." - -"Who can this strange gallant be?" asked Bessie. - -"By Gad, what if he were Sir Percival?" exclaimed the poet, struck -suddenly by the thought. - -"You don't think so, Tom?" - -"No, dear," said Moore, soothingly, "no such good luck I 'm afraid." - -"Well, I t'ink I must be goin'," observed Mrs. Malone, rising from her -chair reluctantly. "Good avenin' to yez both, darlin's. Oh, there will -be doin's to-night, there will be doin's." - -"Tell the dairyman I sympathize with him in his domestic -disappointments," said Moore, "and give my regards to your friend Master -Incognito, though he is a naughty boy. And a word to you, Mrs. Malone. -Don't trust him too far yourself. I 'd never be alone with him, if I -were you, for it is best to be on the safe side always," - -"Stop your tazing me, Tom Moore, or I 'll take you across me knee and -give you what you deserve," retorted the landlady, with a broad grimace -which was quite in keeping with her portly person. - -Moore opened the door with a bow in his most drawing-room manner, and -having bestowed upon Bessie a ponderous courtesy, the old woman waddled -out, running into Mr. Sheridan, who, being about to enter, was thus -rudely thrust back against Mr. Brummell, who, elegantly attired as -usual, was directly behind him. - -"Zooks!" exclaimed the Beau plaintively. "Sherry, I told you that you -should not drink that last glass. You have ruffled my cravat in a most -shameful manner." - -"I beg your parding, gintlemen," said Mrs. Malone, remorsefully, "but -divil a bit did I see yez." - -"Mistress Bridget, no apologies are necessary," said Mr. Sheridan, -graciously. "How well you are looking to-day." - -"D'ye t'ink so?" giggled the ancient dame, more than tickled by her -great countryman's condescension. - -"On me honor," replied Mr. Sheridan. "You agree with me, don't you, -George?" - -"Entirely," drawled Brummell, "entirely, 'pon my soul. How d' ye do, -Tom?" - -Moore's face beamed with delight as he saw who his visitors were. - -"I 'm fine," he said. "Come in, friends, and make yourself easy." - -"Mistress Dyke," murmured Brummell, with a courtly bow. - -"Mistress Moore that is to be," corrected Moore, proudly, "whenever I -can afford such a luxury." - -"What did I tell you, George?" said Sheridan, delightedly, nudging the -Beau with his elbow. - -"Do be careful, Sherry," replied Brummell, warningly. "Tom, I -congratulate you." - -"So do I," said Sheridan. "You have a cheerful den, Tommy. Here is a -home for you, Brummell." - -"Does Mr. Brummell need a home?" asked Moore, waving his guests to the -most comfortable of the chairs. - -"Faith, the Beau is better at breaking them than making them," remarked -the elder man, with a chuckle. - -"Zooks!" drawled Brummell, "that reminds me of an execrable jest of -which the Regent was guilty a fortnight ago. 'Why am I like a farmer?' -he inquired of Percy Lovelace, who politely confessed that he could -detect no resemblance. 'Because,' said his Highness, 'I keep a rake -within reach,' and pointed with his monocle at Richard Brinsley." - -"That is a mighty bad pun, I 'm thinking," said Moore to Bessie. - -"Tom," she said warningly, "are you not already sufficiently out of -favor?" - -"Pooh, Bessie, these lads are my friends. Tell me the news, you old -gossip. Am I still in disgrace?" - -Sheridan shook his gray wig dolefully. - -"You are, Tommy, I regret to say," he answered. "The Regent honors you -with his personal profanity almost daily." - -Brummell took a dainty pinch of snuff and proceeded to change the -subject. - -"Have you heard of the Prince's quarrel with Mrs. FitzHerbert?" he -asked. - -"No," said Moore, "have those turtle-doves had a falling out?" - -"Oh, it won't last long," said Sheridan, "but while it does endure it is -a mighty warm little spat." - -"What caused the trouble if I may ask, Sherry?" - -"The drollest reason," said the Beau with a dignified smile. "You 'll -never guess it, Tommy." - -"Then I 'll not try." - -"Tell him, Sherry," said the Beau, adjusting his ruffles. - -"She became angry because the Regent visited his wife late in the -evening without a chaperon," laughed the old Irishman. - -"My, oh, my!" exclaimed Moore, horrified. "Has the Prince no sense of -decorum?" - -"How goes the world with you, children?" demanded Sheridan, kindly. "Do -you manage to exist without the approval of royalty?" - -"We are getting on somehow. I have enough to eat, almost enough to -drink--" - -"You are indeed fortunate," interjected Sheridan. "I cannot recall any -period in my career when I had anywhere near enough to drink." - -"You must remember, Sherry," said the Beau, languidly, "every Irishman -does not have a bottomless pit where nature usually places a stomach. -Your pardon, Mistress Dyke, for using so corporeal a term." - -"Well, to continue," said Moore, "besides the possessions already -enumerated I have a roof over my head, and these same luxuries I can -offer to my wife when I get her." - -Bessie looked up at him lovingly as he sat down on the arm of the chair -she occupied. - -"We will be so happy," she said shyly to Mr. Sheridan. - -"And we will need no chaperon, I 'm thinking," said Moore. - -"I 'll wager you won't," said Sheridan, wisely. "Well, George, let's get -on our way." - -"What's that?" said Moore, quickly. "Get on your way? Not much. You -are going to stay to supper with us." - -"Well," said Sheridan, who had risen in a hesitating way, "I--" - -"Oh," said Moore, divining the cause of his countryman's embarrassment, -"it is true that you won't get much to eat, but you are more than -welcome to whatever there is; and besides, think of the company you will -be in." - -"That last decides me, if Mistress Dyke extends the invitation," said -Sheridan, yielding in response to a nod from the Beau, who had decided -to remain. - -"Tom speaks for both of us," said Bessie. "Don't you, Tom?" - -"Yes, and some day I 'll listen for both of us, no doubt. That will be -when she points out my faults, lads. You must stay. Bessie will make -the tea--that is, if there is any tea. If there is n't any, she 'll mix -the whisky." - -"Good," said Sheridan, smacking his lips. - -"But there is tea," said the girl, opening the caddy which she found in -the cupboard. - -"Just our luck, eh, Sherry?" said the poet, disconsolately. - -Buster entered at this opportune moment and busied himself, with the -assistance of Bessie, in preparing the simple meal. - -Moore drew the chairs into position by the table as Bessie laid the -plates. - -"You are to sit there, you disreputable old Hibernian," said he, -assisting Sheridan to a seat on the right. - -"Your place is there at the end, Fashion Plate. I 'll preside just -opposite you across the festive board, and Bessie shall sit on your left -hand." - -"Is she heavy?" inquired Sheridan, interestedly, as he sat down. - -"I 'm speaking metaphorically," the poet rattled on. "How goes the play, -Sherry?" - -"'Pizarro' is certainly doing a fine business," replied the aged -dramatist. "The public likes blood and thunder." - -"I suppose you sent a box to the Dutchman that wrote it?" said Moore. - -"On the contrary, Tommy, I think he should buy one to see how his play -should have been written in the first place," replied Sheridan, not at -all disconcerted, for he made no bones about admitting his indebtedness -to Kotzebue for his last great success. "For my part, I 'm afraid -Anacreon might not appreciate some of the Odes as now rendered according -to the gospel of Thomas." - -"Well, he was dead when I tackled him," retorted Moore. - -"Which no doubt saved you from answering at the bar to the charge of -manslaughter, for I 'm sure he 'd never have survived the heroic -treatment you gave him." - -"Tea is ready," announced Bessie, opportunely. - -"Good," said Moore. "Buster, bring the wine." - -"But there hain't none," responded the lad. - -"Bring it, anyway. Any one can bring wine when there is wine, but it -takes a smart boy to fetch it when there is n't any." - -"Hi hain't smart henuff," said Buster. - -"It is of no importance, Tom," said Brummell, graciously. - -"Since when?" demanded Moore in surprise. "How is that, Sherry?" - -"I never drink," said the elder man, waving aside the idea of alcoholic -indulgence with a gesture of fine contempt. - -"No?" asked the poet, wonderingly. "Oh, I suppose you have it rubbed -into your skin by your valet." - -At this moment Bessie, having finished setting the table, sat down in -the chair pulled out for her by Sheridan and the Beau in gallant -competition, and the supper began. - -"Will you say grace, Brummell?" asked Moore. - -"Say it yourself," drawled the Arbiter of Fashion, smiling lazily at his -hostess. - -"But, his Highness thinks me a graceless rogue," objected the poet, "so -it would be an act of treason for me to prove him a liar." - -"Well, then, I 'll say it meself," volunteered Sheridan, with a wink at -Moore. - -"Good man. Hush, now, every one." - -Sheridan rose from his chair and leaning over took possession of the -bread plate. - -"Ah," said Moore, knowingly, "then it is to be 'Give us this day our -daily bread,' eh, Sherry?" - -"You are away off the scent, Tommy," responded the dramatist in a -superior tone. "Nothing so conventional would be appropriate for this -festive occasion." - -"Do go on, Sherry," advised Brummell, "I am growing disgracefully -hungry." - -"Anything to oblige, Beau. See, friends, - - 'There's bread here for four of us: - Thank God, there's no more of us!'" - - -Sheridan sat down amidst the laughing approval of the others. - -"That," observed Moore, "is what I call a curst fine bit of -prayer-making. Sherry and I like our prayers like our -liquor--concentrated." - -"Your remark is a trifle paradoxical," commented Brummell. "Yes, -Mistress Bessie, sugar and milk both." - -"Brummell has a sweet tooth," said Sheridan, taking the cup Bessie -passed him. - -"And Bessie has a sweet mouth," said Moore, buttering his bread -generously. - -"I suppose you know all about that, Tom?" - -"Trust me for that, Sherry." - -"That sort of credit is easy for an Irishman to obtain," said the old -gentleman. - -"With Bessie?" inquired Moore. "That shows you have never tried, -Sherry." - -"He does n't know whether I have or not, does he, Mistress Bessie?" - -"Of course he does n't," chimed in the girl, coquettishly. "We don't -have to tell him all our little frolics, do we?" - -"I 'd hate to if I hoped to retain his friendship," chuckled the wit. -"It is like confident youth to imagine itself ever the only favored." - -"Look here," said Moore, aggressively, "there will be enough of this -supper, such as it is, to go around handsomely without trying to spoil -my appetite with your base innuendoes, you old scandal-school maker." - -"He is jealous," observed Sheridan. "Just have the kindness to remember -my age, Thomas." - -"How can I when you yourself do not?" asked the poet, slyly. "Brummell, -pass the butter. If it's stronger than you are, shout for help." - -"You wrong the article," said the Beau, handing over the desired plate. -"It's quiescence is most amiable." - -"That reminds me," Moore remarked thoughtfully, "of a scheme I have for -increasing the volume of the milk given by the cow." - -"Volume?" repeated Sheridan. "D' ye mean the way the tale is presented -to the public?" - -"Well, if you let the bovine offspring remain too adjacent it's bound in -calf the lacteal fluid would be," replied Moore. - -"Faith, the animal should be brought to book for that," returned -Sheridan. - -"She 'd probably turn pale at the thought and kick over the cream," -retorted Moore. - -"Dear me!" cried Bessie, "what brilliant gentlemen, are they not, Mr. -Brummell?" - -"Yes, Mistress Dyke," answered the Beau, "_they are not_." - -Bessie laughed at the unexpected termination of the Beau's remark. - -"A couple of silly punsters, 'pon my honor," sighed the exquisite, -nibbling his bread daintily. - -"I think, Sherry," said Moore, "after that rebuke we had better be less -witty. I 'll tell my story later on. The bill of fare includes -chicken, gentlemen." - -"Oh, Tom," said Bessie, shocked, "how can you fib so?" - -"In the shell, Bessie, in the shell," explained the host, holding up an -egg. "Cold and hard, but so young it would melt in your mouth. Then -comes bread-and-butter and tea." - -"My favorite dish, believe me," declared Brummell. - -"Then comes tea and bread-and-butter. Next, some cups and saucers and -knives and forks." - -"D'ye think we are ostriches?" demanded Sheridan. - -"Then comes the best of all, gentlemen, the dessert." - -"And what may that be, Tommy?" - -"Well, it _may_ be custard pudding--" - -"Ah!" said Brummell in an approving tone. - -"But it _is n't_," continued Moore. "It is something even sweeter and -softer." - -"Don't arouse my curiosity further," pleaded Sheridan. - -"Well, then, we are to have kisses for dessert." - -Sheridan and the Beau applauded noisily while Bessie blushed in a most -becoming manner. - -"How is the dessert to be served, Tommy?" - -"I kiss Bessie," said Moore, exultantly. "Then comes your turn, -Sherry." - -"Ah!" said that gentleman, smacking his lips in anticipation. - -"Then comes your turn, Sherry. You kiss Brummell." - -The wit gave an exclamation of disappointment, while the rest of the -party laughed heartily. - -"Really, Tom," said the Beau, "this egg is delicious." - -"Sure it is," replied his host. "We raised that one on the bottle, -didn't we, Bessie?" - -Meanwhile he had helped himself to another, and cracking the shell, -turned away with an exclamation of disgust. - -"Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed, holding his nose. "Bessie, I knew I ought to -have hurried home with that egg if I wanted to eat it. Faith, it is too -much a chicken to be an egg, and too much egg to be a chicken. Buster, -accept this with my compliments." - -Buster obediently carried away the cause of the trouble and stowed it -outside on a corner of the window-sill, reserving it for use as -ammunition at some future time. - -"I never drank such tea, Mistress Bessie," said Sheridan, passing his -cup to be refilled. "Really you are an enchantress." - -"She enchanted me years ago," said Moore. - -"I suited him to a tee the first time I saw him," said Bessie, laughing. - -"A pun is the lowest form of humor," said Moore, severely. - -"And therefore at the bottom of all true wit," said Sheridan, coming to -his hostess's defence like the gallant old Irishman he was. - -"It seems to me you two are very thick," said Moore, critically. "I 'll -have you to understand, Richard Brinsley, that I am not to be treated -with contempt." - -"I think Irish whisky would be what I should treat you with, Tommy." - -"A happy thought," cried the poet. "Buster, the Dew of Heaven." - -"Some 'un just knocked, Mr. Moore," said the boy. - -"Then open the door, you gossoon." - -Buster did so, and Lord Brooking stepped quickly into the room. - - - - - _Chapter Twenty-Four_ - - _TOM MOORE HEARS OF A POLITICAL APPOINTMENT_ - - -"Lord Brooking," cried Bessie in surprise, rising from the table. "I -thought you were still on the Continent." - -"Not I, Mistress Dyke. I returned yesterday. So, Mr. Moore, you have -been getting into trouble, have you?" - -"Did you ever hear of an Irishman who was able to keep out of it long?" -asked Sheridan, waving his hand in greeting to the young nobleman. - -"Your lordship has come just in time. Buster, call that bulldog away -before Lord Brooking bites him. Get another plate, lad. Sherry, move up -and make room for his lordship." - -"There hain't any more plites," said Buster in a hoarse whisper. - -"Then get a saucer," commanded Moore, gaily. - -"No, no, Tom," said his lordship. "I 've just dined." - -"Oh, you know you are welcome," said Moore. "Don't be too polite if you -are hungry." - -"I could n't eat a mouthful," said Lord Brooking. - -"That's d--n lucky!" whispered Moore to Sheridan. - -"Tut, tut, Tom," quoth that staid old party. "Profanity is a luxury and -should be used not abused." - -"That's like an obedient wife," said Moore. "Your lordship, this is an -impromptu banquet to celebrate my engagement to Mistress Dyke." - -"Is the engagement an impromptu?" asked Sheridan. - -"No, we got it by heart," said Moore. - -Brummell clapped his pretty hands in delight. - -"Egad," said he, "I 've not heard such verbal fireworks this six -months." - -"So you are betrothed, Tom?" said Lord Brooking. - -"The darlin' has made me say 'Yes' at last," said Moore in an apparently -bashful tone. - -"Mistress Dyke," said his lordship, taking her hand and kissing it, "Tom -is indeed a lucky man. I wish you both all the happiness you deserve. -Hang me, if I 'm not envious, Tom. I 've half a mind to marry myself." - -"It takes a smart man to marry himself," commented Moore, "but it is -economical." - -Brooking sat down and crossed his legs in an easy attitude. - -"I have news for you, Tom," said he. "News that I fancy will please -you." - -"Have you found me a long-lost uncle, childless, wifeless, and worth a -million?" - -"Not exactly." - -"What, then, your lordship? Surely not a long-lost son?" - -"I have endeavored to secure you the appointment of Registrar of the -Admiralty Court at Bermuda. The salary of the office is five hundred -pounds yearly." - -"Bermuda?" echoed the poet, hardly able to believe his ears. - -"Where the devil is Bermuda?" asked Sheridan, taking snuff. - -"That is where the onions come from, you ancient ignoramus, but its -geographical location does not matter tuppence," said Moore. "If you -get the place for me, sir, I will accept it gladly, and I thank you more -than I can tell for the attempt, whether you succeed or not." - -"Pshaw," said Lord Brooking, "wait until I put the appointment in your -hands, Tom." - -"Ah," said Bessie, softly, "your lordship knows how grateful we both are -for your many kindnesses." - -"Say no more about it," replied the young nobleman, blushing like a -girl. "If I may truthfully congratulate myself on having made the world -brighter and life's path easier for two such deserving friends, I have -gained a satisfaction no money could ever purchase." - -Moore shook his patron's hand with a grip that conveyed more than any -words of thanks could have done. - -"Tommy, my boy, don't you need a private secretary?" inquired Sheridan. - -"Thank you, I 'll have no such lady-killer in my official family," -replied Moore. - -"I congratulate you both," said Brummell, "but we will miss you when -Bermuda claims your society." - -"You shall still be in touch with the world," said Sheridan. "I 'll -write you all the scandal once a week." - -"It will take a pound for postage if you write it all, Sherry," said -Moore, dubiously. - -"And I," said Brummell, rising, pompously, "will keep you informed of -the changes I deem advisable to make in the fashions." - -"That's mighty good of you, Beau." - -"Oh, that will be splendid," said Bessie. "I will set all the styles on -the island." - -"Not much," said Moore, horrified. "To do that, Bessie, you would have -to wear fig-leaves." - -"Promise me, Tom, that you will let me know if the black ladies are as -pretty as they say?" said Sheridan. - -"I will investigate that matter myself," responded the poet, winking -slyly at the dramatist. - -"Indeed you will do nothing of the kind, Tom Moore," said Bessie in an -indignant tone. - -"Certainly not," said he. "Sherry, you are a wicked old man to even -suggest such a thing." - -"I was always fond of brunettes," said Sheridan, calmly, "like you, -Tom." - -"What horrid things men are!" - -"Old men are," assented Moore. "Sherry, you are a shocking old rascal." - -"He is no worse than you, Tom," said the girl. - -"Not half so bad, on my honor," observed the elder gentleman. - -"You are so, Mr. Sheridan," said the girl, changing front immediately. - -"See, Sherry, you can't abuse me with impunity," declared Moore with a -chuckle. - -"I 'll abuse you with profanity if you do not stop flaunting your -amatory success in my venerable countenance," tartly retorted the gay -old Irishman. - -Lord Brooking looked at his watch. - -"Jove!" he exclaimed, "I had no idea it was so late. I must be off." - -"So soon?" asked Moore, regretfully, as his lordship rose to his feet. - -"I 'm due at Lady Fancourt's amateur theatricals in ten minutes." - -"So am I," said Brummell, smoothing his ruffles. - -"And I also," said Sheridan. "Is your cab waiting, Brookie, me boy?" - -"I think so," responded his lordship. "I 'll be glad of your company. -Will you risk close quarters with us, Brummell?" - -"Not I, Brooking," said the Beau. "I prefer not to disarrange my -costume by crowding Sheridan." - -"Aye," said Moore. "An Irishman 's a bad thing for an Englishman to -crowd too far. Since you are going to walk, George, I 'll honor myself -by seeing you out of the neighborhood. Such swells as you are tempting -game, and there is many a dark alley only too handy." - -"Good night, Mistress Dyke," said Lord Brooking, bowing low over her -hand. - -"Good night," she said sweetly, "and thank you again." - -"Promise that once in a while you will write me how fortune treats you -if you go to Bermuda." - -"Every month," answered the girl, her eyes bright with the gratitude -which filled her heart. "God bless you, sir." - -"Good night," said his lordship again, and stepped out in the hall. - -Sheridan kissed Bessie's hand, and purposely lingered over it so long -that Moore shook his fist at him. - -"Easy there, Sherry, easy there." - -"Selfish man!" murmured Sheridan, as he followed Brooking. "Good night, -Mistress Dyke." - -Brummell bade good night to his hostess and joined the others in their -descent as Moore, after making a feint of putting a kiss upon Bessie's -hand, at the last moment transferred it to her smiling lips. - -"You won't be longer than is necessary, will you, Tom?" - -"I 'll not be half that long," said he, running after his guests, who -were now well on their way down the first flight of stairs. - -Bessie turned from the door with a rapturous sigh, only to receive a -reproachful glance from Buster, who was sternly regarding her. - -"Wot 'll become hof my morals hif these hindearments continyers?" -thought the lad, vaguely jealous. "Hit's henuff to turn one hagin -mater-ri-mony, that's wot hit his. Hi thinks Hi 'll jine a monkery." - -"To Bessie," murmured the girl, kissing the poem as she drew it from her -breast, little suspecting Buster's doubtful frame of mind. "Buster, you -may clear away the tea-things after you have had your supper. I must go -down and tell Mrs. Malone the good news." - -"Well, hif she harsks arfter me, say Montgomery Julien Hethelbert sends -'is luv," said the boy, more cheerfully. - -"_Montgomery Julien Ethelbert_," said the girl, opening the door. - -When she had closed it behind her, Buster addressed himself disgustedly -to his pal, Lord Castlereagh. - -"Montgomery Julien Hethelbert," he repeated in high disdain. "Hain't -that an 'ell of a nime for a sporting cove like me?" - -"Wuff!" barked the dog, in sympathy. - - - - - _Chapter Twenty-Five_ - - _SIR INCOGNITO RECEIVES A WARM WELCOME_ - - -The gentleman whose attentions to Jane Sweeny were causing so much -excitement in the neighborhood favored by her residence, little -suspecting that a warm welcome was there in preparation for him, let -himself quietly out of a little private door in the rear of his great -mansion and turned his steps cheerfully towards their rendezvous. He -seemed to be in fine spirits, for once or twice he checked a whistle as -it was about to escape from the lips he had unconsciously pursed as he -strode quickly along. - -It seemed to be his wish to avoid recognition, for he kept his face -hidden as much as was rendered possible by his up-turned cloak collar -and wide, drawn-down hat brim, though this desire upon his part seemed -to grow less imperative as he left the fashionable locality in which he -lived, and turning down a side street, followed a course that twisted -and turned from poor neighborhood to even poorer, then on till the -respectability of the locality was once more on the increase until he -found himself on a shabby street not far from the one on which the -establishment of Mrs. Malone was situated. The spot at which he had -arranged to meet Sweeny's daughter was now near at hand. The gentleman, -who was tall and well shaped, though slightly inclined to corpulence, -strolled leisurely along the street, evidently confident that his -charmer would not fail to be on hand promptly at their trysting place, -but much to his surprise, when he arrived there was no one waiting for -him. He paused, gave an exclamation of disappointment, and, drawing out -his watch, stepped nearer the street lamp that he might see if he had -anticipated the time appointed for his arrival. The timepiece assured -him that he was several minutes behind the chosen hour, and after -swearing softly to himself, he pocketed it and turned, intending to -stroll leisurely up and down the street until the tardy damsel should -put in an appearance. - -At this moment a stalwart youth, with eyes set widely apart and the jaw -of a pugilist, walked softly across from the opposite side. So -noiseless was his tread that the first comer did not discover his -proximity until he had approached within a yard or two. - -"H'are yer witing for some 'un?" demanded the unprepossessing youth, -whose name it is almost a needless formality to announce was Isaac. - -"What is that to you, sir?" replied the gentleman, haughtily, -contemptuously regarding his questioner. - -"W'y, sir, Jine harsked me--" - -"Oh, Jane sent you then?" - -"Ha!" cried the younger man, triumphantly. "Hi wuz sure yer wuz the -cove. There hain't no doubt habout it now." - -"Perhaps you will be kind enough to inform me as to the reason for this -sudden ebullition of delight?" said the gentleman, puzzled by the -youth's behavior, and, if not alarmed, not exactly at ease as to the -probable developments of the immediate future. - -If his eyes had been a trifle more used to the semi-darkness of the -street, particularly at the places midway between the flickering -lanterns, on whose incompetent illumination depended the lighting of the -great city after nightfall, the elegant stranger would have perceived -that his interrogator was not alone. Several little groups had emerged -from convenient doorways and cellars, and, clustered in the denser -shadows for temporary concealment, awaited a prearranged signal to -advance. These sinister-looking individuals were armed with weapons -still more sinister,--knotty cudgels, heavy canes, in one instance an -axe handle and in another a spade, new and unsullied as yet by labor. - -"Ho, Hi 'll be kind henuff, don't 'ee fear," sneered Isaac, and with a -quick movement he snatched his felt hat from his bullet head and slapped -it viciously across the face of his companion. - -Immediately he received a blow on the chin straight from the shoulder of -the insulted gallant, which dropped him, an inert bundle of clothing, in -the filth of the gutter. - -"Down with the swell!" yelled an enthusiastic lad, armed with an empty -quart bottle, as the crowd surged forward from both sides, scattering -across the street to cut off all chance of their game's escape. - -The object of their hostile intentions threw a hurried glance around him -and, realizing the futility of attempting to break through the ranks of -his enemies, gave an exclamation of despair. Escape seemed impossible, -yet surrender was not to be thought of, for the fate in store for him at -their hands was only too plainly evidenced by their demeanor. Turning, -he ran up the steps of the house immediately behind him and tried the -door. It was locked and made of material far too tough and seasoned to -yield to the impact of his weight, as he found when he had hurled -himself with crushing force against it. - -Meanwhile the mob had almost reached the steps which at their highest -point attained an altitude of about eight feet. If he ran down to the -street it would be only to rush into their clutches; unarmed as he was -he could not long successfully defend the stairs; then what could he do? - -"Watch!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Watch! Watch to the -rescue! Murder! Watch! Help!" - -The united force of his pursuers halted in front of the house where he -had vainly endeavored to secure an entrance. The game was trapped and -their plan had met with success quite unqualified, unless the -insensibility resulting from the tremendous punch which Isaac's jaw had -received from the gentleman now at bay at the top of the steps could be -regarded in the light of a serious reverse. The disposition of the -still unconscious youth's companions seemed to be to regard his -misfortune in the light of a joke, though their obvious intention was to -add this example of the strange gallant's prowess to the total of the -score for which they expected to secure settlement in full without -further delay. - -"'Ee 's an 'ansome pusson, hain't 'ee?" remarked one facetious -individual in the front rank of the crowd assembled at the bottom step. - -"A blooming Prince Charmin'," assented a heavy-browed ruffian, resting -his great cudgel on the railing. "Oh, but he are n't a circumstance to -what he will look when we have altered his countenance a bit." - -"It stroikes me the spalpeen has been powdering his mug," growled -Sweeny, his little eyes blazing with a ferocious light. His lips, damp -and red, were wolf-like as his tusk-shaped and scattered teeth bit deep -into them in his rage. "He 's pale loike." - -"Watch! Watch!" - -"Call, sorr, call. It's no good the watch will do yez this noight. Ye -'ll git a bating now that ye will carry the marks of to your dying day." - -"I 'd rather be excused, sir," replied the gentleman, coolly. "Unless I -mistake, I have not the honor of your acquaintance." - -"I 'm Sweeny, Jane's father." - -"Indeed? How do you do, Mr. Sweeny?" politely inquired the girl's -admirer. - -"I 'll be better when I 've pounded you to a pulp," growled the old -Irishman, taking a new and firmer grip on the club he held. - -"Then why delay, friends? Let us have it over with at once," suggested -the hunted gentleman, smiling as pleasantly as though he were inviting -divers acquaintances to partake of biscuits and tea. - -"Bli' me, hif 'ee ain't a well-plucked cove," said the lad with the -bottle. - -A murmur of admiring assent ran through the crowd. It would be much -greater sport to beat so valiant a gentleman to death than to thrash a -low-spirited coward such as they had anticipated encountering. These -worthy and unworthy denizens of poverty-stricken dwellings, for in the -assemblage there were both honest and dishonest, like most of their rank -in society, were firm believers in the theory that fine clothes and a -high-bred manner were reliable indications of a cowardly spirit and -physical weakness. To so suddenly have their ideas on this subject -proved incorrect was a surprise more startling than would be at first -imagined. - -Sweeny felt that his followers were wavering in their allegiance, and -fearing lest further delay might result in a behavior on their part -unsatisfactory to him personally, he gave a growl of wrath and rushed -fiercely up the steps waving his cudgel. The gentleman calmly and -skilfully kicked him in the mouth and sent him hurling backward down on -the heads of his friends, bloodstained and well nigh insensible. This -bit of battle decided the action of the mob, and, excited by the sight -of their leader's blood, they pressed resolutely up the steps. It was -quite impossible for the hunted gallant to beat back such a force as was -now attacking him, and, fully realizing this, he made no such attempt. -Instead, he tore his cloak from about his shoulders and threw it over -the heads of the foremost of his opponents, leaped quickly on the -railing of the steps and sprang wildly and hopelessly towards the -parallel flight which led to the front door of the adjacent house. He -reached the rail with his hands, but his weight was too much for him -when coupled with the terrible force with which his body struck the side -of the steps, so, with a groan of despair, he fell in the areaway. He -tumbled feet first on a grating leading to the cellar of the house, -which gave way and precipitated him into the depths below, as his -pursuers, mad with the excitement of the chase, rushed down the stairs -from which he had made his daring leap. It looked as though it might go -hard with the unknown gentleman, valiant and resourceful though he had -proven himself. - - - - - _Chapter Twenty-Six_ - - _TOM MOORE'S SERVANT PROVES A FRIEND IN NEED_ - - -Buster ate a hearty supper and fed Lord Castlereagh with the scraps. -This done, he was about to proceed with the dish-washing, a kind of toil -for which he had a more than ordinary contempt and dislike, when the -sound of shouting in the street attracted his attention. - -For once in his life the boy had failed to ascertain the news of the -neighborhood of that day, and as he had been absent when Mrs. Malone -conveyed to his master the intelligence of Sweeny's purposed ambush of -Jane's unknown swain, he had had no tidings concerning that important -happening, so was not the active participant in the adventure that he -would otherwise have been. This being the case, he was quite at a loss -to account for the sounds of tumult below. - -"My heye!" he remarked to the bulldog, whose curiosity was similarly -aroused, "wot a rumpussin'. Who 's getting beat hor married, Hi -wonders?" - -Sticking his head out of the window, the boy could discern nothing down -in the dark street. It was quite evident that the voices which had -attracted his attention proceeded from one of the narrow lanes running -at right angles to the larger thoroughfare on which the lodgings of -Moore fronted. - -"Somebody 's risin' a bloody hole row, your lordship. Well, we keeps -hout of it this once, don't we?" - -The bulldog gave a whine of dissent. He saw no reason for remaining -quiet when such unexcelled opportunities for vigorous contention were -being offered gratuitously below. - -Buster shook his head sadly. - -"Halas!" he observed in a melancholy tone. "That hole gladheateral -spirit hof yourn his never horf tap. You h'are a blooming hole pugilist, -that's wot you h'are. You horter be hashamed of yourself for wantin' to -happropriate somebody else's private row." - -Lord Castlereagh felt unjustly rebuked and retired to his favorite -corner, apparently losing all interest in the hubbub, which continued -below, growing gradually less noisy as though the cause were slowly -departing from the immediate neighborhood. Suddenly the dog's quick ear -detected an unwonted sound coming from the rooftops, and with a growl, -spurred on by his still unsatisfied curiosity, he ran across the room to -the window by which his master in the old days had been wont to evade -the vigilance of Mrs. Malone. Buster followed him, and, looking across -the undulating surface made by the irregular roofs,--a sort of -architectural sea rendered choppy by uplifting ridge-poles and gables of -various styles, cut into high waves and low troughs by the dissimilar -heights of sundry buildings, with chimneys rising buoy-like from the -billowy depths, which in the darkness were blended softly together by -the mellowing and connecting shadows,--he saw the figure of a man emerge -from the scuttle of a roof perhaps two hundred feet distant. At the -same moment there came a howl of fury from the street below, which grew -louder, as though the crowd from which it emanated were streaming back -in the direction of Mrs. Malone's residence. The fugitive, for that he -was such could not be doubted, beat a hurried retreat across the roofs, -tripping, falling, crawling, but ever making progress and nearly always -hidden from the point at which he had effected his entrance to the -house-tops by the friendly shelter of intervening chimneys and gables. -All at once a burly form leaped out of the scuttle from which the first -comer had emerged. This newly arrived individual carried a club and was -followed out on the roof by half-a-dozen companions of the same ilk. -Straightening up to his full height, while gingerly balancing on the -nearest ridgepole, the fellow caught a glimpse of their prey crawling up -a steep roof quite a little distance further on towards the window from -which Buster was now intently watching the chase. - -"There he goes, lads. He is right in line with that tallest chimbley," -bellowed the leader. - -"Aye, aye! After him! After him!" - -An answering howl came from the street, and, sliding, running and -stumbling, the pursuers began to follow the fugitive across the -housetops. Then they lost sight of him, and for a while completely -baffled, searched in a scattered line, slowly advancing, investigating -each possible hiding-place as they came to it, urged on by the growling -of the mob patrolling the street below. Suddenly one of their number, -the lad armed with the huge bottle, tripped over a broken clothesline -and fell headlong into the V-shaped trough formed by the eaves of the -two adjacent houses. He found himself rudely precipitated on the body -of the hunted man, who had lain snugly concealed at the very bottom of -the roof-made angle, but before he could do more than utter one choking -scream, the fugitive, despairing of further concealment, silenced his -discoverer with his fist, and with the rest of the pack in full cry at -his heels, began again his wild flight over the roofs. Fortune favored -him once more, and the band hunting him was forced for a second time to -pause and scatter in close scrutiny of the ground over which the fleeing -gallant had made his way. Then Buster saw a tall figure creep out of -the gloom cast by a huge chimney, which, shadowing a roof near by, had -enabled him to crawl undetected from the hiding-place that he had found -beneath the eaves of an unusually tall building, near the house from the -attic of which the boy was now excitedly tracing his line of flight. -Buster's sympathy was all with the fleeing man. To sympathize was to -act, and having found the rope-ladder which used to serve his master as -a means of exit by the window when prudence dictated such an evasion, he -tumbled it out, at the same time attracting the hunted gentleman's -attention with a friendly hiss. - -"This w'y, sir, this w'y," whispered Buster, silencing the threatened -outcry of Lord Castlereagh with a commanding gesture. "Keep low has you -can till you gets 'ere. The big chimbley 'll keep 'em from seeing you -till you 're safe hup, sir." - -Crawling rapidly along on his hands and knees, the much-sought gentleman -managed to gain the necessary distance without being discovered, and -sheltered by the grim outlines of the huge chimney Buster had indicated, -he climbed laboriously up the ladder to the window of Moore's attic. -The boy held out a welcoming hand and assisted him to enter. Once in, -the stranger gave a sobbing sigh of relief, and groped his way to a -chair. The moon, till now providentially bedimmed, came out from behind -the froth of clouds and the light entering the window fell full on the -new-comer's flushed face. - -"Blow me!" cried the boy in astonishment. "Hif it hain't the Prince hof -Wyles!" - - - - - _Chapter Twenty-Seven_ - - _THE POET REGAINS ROYAL FAVOR_ - - -"You know me?" - -"Hi just does, your 'Ighness," replied the boy, dragging up the ladder -as he spoke. - -This he deposited in its usual hiding-place before turning to his royal -guest, who was still panting from the exertion of his flight. - -"Put out the light," directed the Prince, pointing to the candles on the -mantel. - -"Ho, no, your 'Ighness. That 'd make them suspicious," dissented -Buster. - -"Perhaps you are right," said Wales, reflectively. - -"Per'aps Hi his," admitted the boy. "Hi ain't hallus wrong, you know, -your 'Ighness." - -"What place is this, my lad?" - -"This," replied Buster, grandiloquently, "his the palatial residence of -the famous poet, Mr. Thomas Moore." - -"Moore!" repeated the Prince in astonishment. "Fatality pursues me." - -"Hif that's wot wuz harter you Hi don't wonder you cut stick," said the -boy, cautiously peering out of the window. - -"To while away a tedious evening I sometimes assume a disguise such as -my present adornment and go out in search of adventures," said Wales, -condescending to explain his present predicament. - -"Yessir," said Buster, "Hi knows Jine Sweeny myself. You h'are the -pusson Hi saw with 'er the hother night." - -"Did you recognize me?" - -"Not then, sir, your 'at wuz pulled too low." - -"Perhaps you knew that a demonstration was being prepared in my honor -this evening?" - -"Not I, your 'Ighness. Ho law! but hit's lucky Hi saw you. They 'd -likely have beat your 'ead horf you, your Majesty." - -"That seemed to be their intention," assented Wales, "nor have they yet -abandoned the idea, if I interpret their present activity correctly." - -"Hif they manages to trice you 'ere, wot 'll we do?" demanded Buster, as -the sounds on the roofs outside drew nearer. - -"What would you suggest?" asked the Prince, quite calmly. - -"You 'd 'ave to tell 'em who you are." - -"Ah!" said Wales, doubtfully, "but would they believe me? Hardly, my -good lad." - -"Hush, your 'Ighness, they are near hat 'and." - -The inmates of the garret could now plainly hear the scuffling steps of -the men on the nearest roof as they slid and slipped on the inclines. - -"Where the h--l can he have gone ter?" queried a piping voice. - -"That's the wine merchant's clark," announced Buster to the Prince. - -"Yes? What did you say his name was?" - -"Hi did n't s'y," replied the boy guardedly. - -Wales laughed pleasantly. - -"You are a wise lad," said he. "What are they doing now?" - -"You 've got 'em puzzled, your Tghness. They his puttin' their bloomink -'eads together. Now they 're a 'untin' agin." - -"No trace of him here." - -"He came this way, I 'll swear." - -"Three he has put his mark on this night. Sweeny, Isaac, and Welch's -Will." - -"Will?" - -"Aye, the lad with the bottle. He 's lying out on the eaves yet." - -Buster gave his guest an admiring look. Such prowess was deserving of -all commendation. Wales caught the glance, and chuckled softly. -Whatever shortcomings might be laid at the door of the gentleman -destined to be the fourth George, cowardice was not one of them. - -"Never mind, lads," said another voice. "He cawn't git away. The -street is watched and all we have to do is to hunt him up." - -"We hain't a doin' hit. Hat least not has I sees." - -"Stop your croaking, Blount. D' ye think he could climb to that -window?" - -"Now for it," murmured Wales. - -"Naw, 'ee hain't no bloomin' bird to fly hup ten foot o' wall, his 'ee?" - -"Scatter, then. That way there, over to the right." - -In obedience to this instruction the party were heard moving off with -uncertain steps and Buster turned away from the window with a sigh of -relief. - -"Hi fawncies you 're sife, your Majesty," said he. - -"Agreeable intelligence, I must admit," sighed the Prince, assuming an -easier position. "My subjects possess the virtue of persistence." - -"Yessir, they dearly loves to club a swell cove hif they think 'ee his -arfter their lydies." - -Steps sounded in the hallway and the Prince rose quietly to his feet, -prepared to renew the struggle. - -"Don't be halarmed, your Tghness," said Buster, reassuringly. "Hit's -only Mr. Moore returning." - -"Do not acquaint him with my presence," said Wales. "I will make myself -known when I think best." - -"Yes, your 'Ighness." - -The Prince stepped behind the curtain separating the poet's bedchamber -from the sitting-room and there awaited developments in silence. Moore -opened the door and ushered in Mr. Dyke. - -"I thought Bessie was here," he said in surprise as he noted her -absence. - -"Mistress Dyke went down to hinterview Mrs. Malone, sir," explained -Buster, in a quandary as to how he should act. A prince, of course, -could not be lightly disobeyed, but at the same time he felt qualms at -the thought of what his master, not suspecting the presence of royalty, -might chance to say. - -Moore solved the problem for him unknowingly. - -"Then go down," said he to Buster, "and tell my future wife that her -former father is here." - -Buster, relieved at the removal of responsibility, quickly left the -room. Mr. Dyke looked around at the bare, unsightly walls and sadly -shook his head. - -"To think I should bring you to this, Thomas," he said, remorsefully. - -"Sit down, Mr. Dyke, and have done with lamentations. So long as I do -not complain, you surely have no reason to find fault," said Moore, -cheerily. - -"No, Thomas, I feel I must confess the truth to the Prince." - -"What nonsense," said Moore, firmly. "No, no, Mr. Dyke, for you to -confess that you wrote the poem satirizing his Highness would be the -height of folly. I doubt if it would do me any good, and it certainly -would completely ruin you." - -"I know," began the old man, but Moore interrupted him. - -"I much prefer things as they are," he said. "Allow me to choose, Mr. -Dyke." - -"You do not know the pangs of conscience I have suffered." - -"More likely it was indigestion, sir." - -"You took the blame for my folly. I went free, but your brilliant -career was cut short." - -"Very short," admitted the poet, who was seated on the table, -comfortably swinging his legs. "But the shortening is frequently the -most important part of the dish." - -"Your rising star was plucked cruelly from the sky before reaching its -zenith." - -"Between friends, you can omit the poetry," suggested Moore. "It seems -like talking shop if I may say so without offence." - -"I see you are resolved," said the old man weakly. - -"Ah, yes," replied the poet, jumping off the table, and approaching his -future father-in-law, he laid his hand kindly on the old man's shoulder. - -"It is all for the best, sir," he went on with a sincerity that was -convincing. "I did not know, I was not sure, that your daughter loved -me. She, bless her pretty head, was too full of life and laughter to -read her own heart. My adversity has brought her to me with -outstretched arms and a love more tender, more true, than even I dreamed -it could be. No, no, sir. Keep your mouth shut to please me." - -"It is really your wish that I do this?" - -"Sure it is," replied Moore, satisfied that he had carried his point. - -"But the Prince, Tom?" - -Moore's face saddened, but he rid himself of his regret with a shrug of -the shoulders. - -"Poor man," he said. "He thinks harshly of me, no doubt. Ah, well, -perhaps it is better so, Mr. Dyke. And yet I 'd be easier in my mind if -he knew how I regard him. I have no feelings save those of friendship -and gratitude in my heart for him but he 'll never know." - -"Yours is a generous soul, Thomas." - -"To-night I can say as truly and fondly as on that evening his favor -plucked me from poverty and failure, 'God bless the Prince Regent.'" - -"It is needless to say I echo that sentiment, Mr. Moore." - -Moore turned with a low cry. The Prince had stepped noiselessly from -behind the curtain to the centre of the room, and stood with a smile on -his face, enjoying his involuntary host's surprise. - -"Your Highness," stammered Moore, for once thoroughly abashed. "Your -Highness!" - -"Aye, Wales himself. Good evening, Mr. Dyke. It seems that I have -wronged you, Moore." - -"Your Highness heard?" - -"Every word, gentlemen." - -"I am not sorry," said Mr. Dyke, softly. - -"But," said Moore, rallying from his astonishment, "how came your -Highness here?" - -The Prince's eyes twinkled, but his face was grave, almost solemn. - -"For that information, sir, I must refer you to your neighbor, one Mr. -Sweeny." - -"Then you, sir, are the gay spark?" - -"No doubt a spark, since I shall make light of my adventure, but in -reality not so very gay." - -Bessie came hurrying along the hall and flinging open the door entered -breathlessly. - -"Oh, Tom, Tom," she cried. "The hall below is full of men. They are -searching for the strange gallant who won Jane Sweeny from the grocer's -son." - -The Prince took a pinch of snuff. - -"Egad!" said he. "A remarkable achievement, it seems. I 'm beginning -to be proud of it." - -"The Prince!" exclaimed the girl in amazement. - -"An uninvited guest, Mistress Dyke," said his Highness, jovially. - -"And therefore doubly welcome, sir," returned Moore, at the door -listening to the murmur that came from below. "Your Highness, they are -coming up I am afraid. They have traced you here." - -"Devilish awkward," muttered the Prince, looking around for a weapon; "I -shall have to fight, I fancy." - -"No, no," said Moore. "That is no way to get out of this mess. We -would be beaten down in a moment." - -"_We?_" - -"Aye, Sire, Mr. Dyke, you and I. I have a better scheme, if you will -trust yourself to me." - -"I prefer you to our friends." - -"Then hide in the next room," said the poet, drawing back the curtain. -"I 'll get them off your track or my name is not Tom Moore. Whatever -you hear, don't stir out, your Highness." - -Buster entered in a rush. - -"Ho, sir," he panted, "the 'ole parcel hof 'em his a-coming hup!" - -"Hush!" said Moore. "This way, Sire." - -Wales obeyed his host's instructions and vanished in the adjoining room, -his manner still cool and unruffled. - -"Buster, can you lose those rascals in a chase over the roofs?" - -"Hi can, sir," replied the boy valiantly. "Hi 'll give 'em such a run -has they reads habout hin their primers." - -Moore tossed him an old hat and coat from the cupboard. - -"The way is clear, lad," he said, peering out the window. "Out with you -and when I whistle show yourself somewhere and then run like the devil. -When you are tired, drop your hat and coat and you 'll be safe." - -"Drop nothing," said Buster. "Hi knows too much to be guilty hof hany -such shocking waste as that." - -He hurried out of the window, landing on the roof below as lightly as -any cat, as the sound of the approaching mob grew louder. There was but -little time to spare, and Moore wasted none of it. - -"Bessie," he commanded, "lock the door behind us when we go out in the -hall. When I sing, you scream for help at the top of your voice. Then, -whatever I say swear to like a darlin'. Come, Mr. Dyke." - -Moore grabbed the old gentleman by the arm and hurried him out in the -hall as the first of Wales' pursuers set foot on the flight of stairs -leading to the attic. - - "The Harp that once thro' Tara's halls - The soul of music shed, - Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, - As if that soul--" - - -A woman's scream rang through the house. - -"Help! Help! Tom! Help!" - -"Bang!" went the locked door, kicked in by Moore, who rushed into the -room with a yell, followed by Mr. Dyke. - -"Out of the way, darlin'," he whispered to Bessie. "I 've got to give -myself an awful flaking." - -Immediately the poet began a struggle all over the room with an -imaginary adversary. - -"You would, would you?" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Then take -that, you raparee! And that, and _that_. Help! Mr. Dyke! My, but he -is strong." - -He seized the table and upset it, then danced around the room like one -possessed, dealing terrific blows to the air. He clutched the contents -of the cupboard and sent the china crashing in fragments on the floor. -The chairs he beat up and down and back and forth against the walls. -For all the world it sounded as though a mad bull were rushing around -the room dealing destruction on every side. Then he put his fist -through two panes of glass and paused in his performance, standing by -the window with heaving chest as the mob led by Sweeny rushed into the -attic. - -"Oh, friends," he cried between gasps, "you come too late." - -"Too late for what, Mr. Moore?" - -"To help me, you spalpeens. A big devil, six feet and a half high and a -mile broad--I mean a mile high and six feet broad--Oh, a curst big lump -of a lad--climbed into the window and laid violent hands on this lady, -my future wife, who was here alone--" - -"The strange laddybuck," cried Sweeny. "The omadhaun we 're afther -now." - -"He locked the door so I could n't get in and laid hold of her. Didn't -he, Bessie?" - -The girl lied shamelessly. - -"And I screamed," she finished, glad to add a little truth to her -falsehood. - -"I kicked in the door and grabbed the villain. Mr. Dyke and I both -grappled with him, but he was too much for us and beat us down and -leaped out on the roof." - -The crowd surged up to the window with a howl of rage, and Buster bobbed -into view on a distant gable. - -"There he is now," cried Dabble, who was one of the mob. - -"Aye, aye, after him." - -Sweeny took command. - -"You four, Dabble, Blount, Williams and Lake, out of the window and over -the roofs again. The rest of us will guard every door in the -neighborhood." - -The chosen four dropped from the window, and the crowd, Sweeny still in -the lead, rushed out and downstairs as frantically as they had come up, -leaving the attic to Moore and his guests. The poet sat down on an -upset chair and breathed a sigh of relief. - -"It's a comedian I am," said he. "Bessie, how does Drury Lane do -without me?" - -"I don't know," said the girl. "I am sure I could n't." - -"My, oh, my!" panted Moore, "but you are learning the right things to -say at the right time very quickly, Bessie." - -The Prince emerged from his hiding-place. - -"Bravely done, Mr. Moore," said he, laughing a little. "Egad, I 'd not -trade this evening for any other in my experience." - -"No?" asked Moore. - -"Not I, sir. You rid us of them very neatly." - -"For a while, your Highness. They may return." - -"True," said Wales, "so we had best lose no time in getting help." - -"Your Highness is right," said the poet, beginning to restore the room -to something like its old appearance. "Father-in-law, run out and--" - -"Let me arrange this," interrupted the Prince. "Mr. Dyke, if you will -carry this ring to the house of Sir Percival Lovelace, you will find him -at supper. Tell him of my predicament and say I bid him take such steps -as he may deem best to extricate me from this misadventure without -betraying my identity." - -Mr. Dyke took the ring held out to him by the Prince. - -"I 'll make haste," he said, and toddled out and down the stairs as fast -as his legs could carry him. - -Wales accepted the chair which Moore placed for him. - -"Sir," said he, "you have a talent for intrigue." - -"Ah, Sire," said Moore, ingenuously, "if it were not disrespectful, I -would return the compliment. Your Highness must have passed an exciting -evening." - -"Quite true, Mr. Moore, but I fancy I can do without such excitement in -the future." - -"I rejoice to hear you say that, your Highness," said Moore, sincerely. - -"Indeed, Mr. Moore? And why so, if I may ask." - -"Because," said the poet so winningly that it was quite impossible for -even a prince of the blood to take offence, "'The First Gentleman of -Europe' is too proud a title to be lightly risked." - -Wales grew red and bit his lip. - -"I accept your reproof," he said. "It is not undeserved." - -"Not reproof, your Highness. Friendly advice, nothing more." - -"As you would have it, Mr. Moore," responded the Prince, wearily. - -Meanwhile Bessie had found the teapot to be one exception to the general -ruin wrought of Moore's household utensils. - -"Would it please your Highness to have a cup of tea?" she asked, -timidly. - -"It will delight me much, Mistress Dyke. May I inquire when you intend -to honor Mr. Moore by becoming his wife?" - -Bessie flushed up prettily and looked at her lover. - -"The wedding would take place to-morrow if I could afford it," said -Moore, righting the table and brushing it off with his coat-tail. - -"Then I take it you cannot afford it?" said his Highness. - -"Not just at present," said Moore, cheerily. "I trust your health -continues to be of the best, your Highness?" - -"I thank you, yes, but I have heard no such singing in my favorite -drawing-rooms as when you were wont to frequent the haunts of the _beau -monde_." - -"I have been out of town," said Moore, calmly, as Bessie brought the tea -to the Prince in a cup which had escaped the general smash-up. The -Prince sipped its contents in high good humor. - -"Delicious, Mistress Dyke," he declared, "your husband will be a -fortunate individual." - -"There is but one grief which intrudes itself upon his happiness," said -the girl, tremulously, "the disfavor of the Prince, who in his darkest -hour won from him both love and gratitude by his generosity." - -"Hush, Bessie," said Moore. "His Highness has enough to think of, -dearest." - -"By the way, Moore," said Wales, languidly, "did I not hear some mention -made of your name in connection with a political position in Bermuda?" - -"You are right, your Highness," replied Moore, reluctantly, "there was -some such mention made." - -The Prince looked thoughtful and drained his cup. - -"Bermuda," said he, "is a long way from England, Mr. Moore." - -A step sounded on the stairs at this moment, and Moore gladly rid -himself of the embarrassment he felt by approaching the door to make -certain it was no undesirable personage who was now approaching. - -"Lord Brooking!" he cried. "What good luck brings you back?" - -"I soon wearied of the theatricals and was out for a stroll when by -chance I encountered Mr. Dyke on his way to Sir Percival's," explained -the young nobleman entering. "It is needless to say, your Highness, I -made haste to join you here." - -"But," said Wales, "did the good citizens not stop you on your way?" - -"For a moment or two, your Highness, but I convinced them of my entire -harmlessness and was allowed to pass." - -"Is Mr. Moore at home?" demanded a hoarse voice, strongly flavored with -Scotch dialect, from the hall below. - -"McDermot," exclaimed Moore. "What can the old vagabond want with me -to-night?" - -"If I am not mistaken, Tom, this is the old bloodsucker who is to be -your future publisher?" said Lord Brooking. - -"For life," responded Moore. "You remember I told you of our bargain -not two hours ago. Yes, I am in, Mr. McDermot." - -"Well then I 'll coom up," announced the publisher. - -Moore was about to advise him not to when a gesture from Lord Brooking -led him to desist. - -"Pardon me, your Highness," said Lord Brooking, "but for certain reasons -I deem it better that this gentleman should not recognize you when he -first comes in." - -"I'll look at the view, then," said the Regent, pleasantly. - -By the time Wales had reached the window, wisely choosing the one which -opened upon the street, for there still came sounds of distant chase -from the roofs, McDermot was knocking on the door. - -"Come in," called Moore. - -The old Scotchman entered in a great rage. - -"So I ha' caught ye at last?" he shouted at sight of the poet. - -"Have it your own way, sir." - -"Six times ha' I called here, sair, ye trickster, ye cheat." - -"Hold on now," said Moore, in sudden anger, "you are an old man, but -more than enough of such talk is a great deal too much." - -Bessie laid a restraining hand on Moore's arm. - -"Perhaps, Mr. McDermot, you will be kind enough to state your -grievance," she said, quietly. - -"It's aboot the contract," sputtered the irate publisher. - -"Is n't that all right?" asked Moore, wonderingly. "I signed it." - -"Of coorse ye did, ye trickster, but ye did not tell me when ye called -to do so that the evening before ye had been shamefully ejected from Sir -Percival's house by order o' the Prince of Wales." - -"Surely that was Sir Percival's business," replied Moore. "He may have -been proud of the affair; I was n't." - -"Ye should ha' told me," repeated McDermot, doggedly. - -"But I did n't know you were so interested in my goings and comings." - -"You took my thousand poonds." - -"Was that wrong?" asked Moore. - -"Wrong?" echoed the publisher. "D'ye think I 'd give ye ten shillings -for ye skin?" - -"See here," cried Moore, his anger again getting the better of him, "my -skin is not for sale, but, if you value yours, you had better keep a -civil tongue in your head, you old Rob Roy." - -Lord Brooking stepped forward between the two angry men. - -"Am I right in believing that you are dissatisfied with your bargain, -Mr. McDermot?" said he in a soothing tone. - -"Dissatisfied? _Dissatisfied_! Why, at the present time Mr. Moore is -the very worst investment in the literary market." - -Brooking waved Moore back with an admonishing gesture. - -"Then I take it you would be glad to cancel the agreement?" he -continued. - -"But my thousand poonds?" - -"I will advance Moore the money to repay you. Of course it is a risk, -but for the sake of old times I will assume the obligation. Do you need -other security than my word?" - -"Not I," said McDermot, gladly. "There is your contract, Mr. Moore." - -As he spoke he took the paper from his pocket and tore it into -fragments. These he carefully deposited on the table and turned to go. - -"One moment, Mr. McDermot," said an imperious voice. - -The Prince came forward with an air of chilling dignity. - -"You have made the greatest mistake of your life, sir," he continued, -addressing the astounded publisher. "This I will show you if you listen. -Mr. Moore, you and your fiancee have been little seen of late in the -world of fashion. Pray alter this, my dear fellow. Furthermore you may -as well abandon all idea of holding office in Bermuda save by deputy. -It is impossible for the Poet Laureate of England to reside at such a -distance from Carlton House." - -"Sir!" cried Moore, unable to believe his ears. "Poet Laureate?" - -"One Thomas Moore, not unknown to the literary world, an Irishman of -some wit and fancy. Mr. McDermot, we need detain you no longer." - -Crestfallen, the old Scotchman crept from the room as Moore turned to -Bessie almost too happy to speak. - -"You heard?" - -She nodded her head, her eyes filling with happy tears. - -There was a clatter in the street and a closed carriage drew up in front -of Mrs. Malone's. Following it came a dozen hussars, riding gaily, as -though in hope of a skirmish. Sir Percival Lovelace and Mr. Dyke -alighted and hurried upstairs, while Sweeny and his adherents -contemplated the soldiers from the safety of distance in melancholy -grandeur. - -"I have been waiting for you, Sir Percival," said the Prince. - -"Yet I made all possible haste," said Sir Percival, bowing low to -Bessie. "By good luck, Farquar of the Tenth Hussars was dining with me. -A word to him brought me a dozen stout lads, and with them for escort I -hurried here." - -"Will Farquar keep a still tongue?" inquired Wales, more anxious than he -appeared. - -"Trust him for that, your Highness," replied Sir Percival, confidently. - -"I think I will have to, Lovelace," observed the Prince, dryly. "Mr. -Moore, I have only to thank you for your kindly hospitality. I shall -expect you at Carlton House in the morning. Mistress Dyke, Tom is -indeed a lucky man. As for you, Mr. Dyke, I only await your promise not -to repeat the offence to overlook the error into which you fell some -weeks ago. Good night, my friends--Stay! I would not leave your clever -lad unrewarded. Give him this and tell him if he ever sees fit to quit -your service he will not find Wales ungrateful." - -As he spoke, the Prince took the ring which Sir Percival held out to -him. Handing it to Moore, he turned and bowed himself out, followed by -the baronet. - -"Capital," said Lord Brooking, joyfully. "I knew you 'd not languish in -disfavor long, Tom. Ask Mistress Bessie to name the day." - -Moore stepped to his sweetheart's side. - -"When will you become my wife, dearest?" he asked, love sounding in his -voice and gleaming in his eyes. - -"I will marry you to-morrow," she whispered softly, her arms around his -neck. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM MOORE *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41656 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. 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