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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>FALLEN FORTUNES</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Fallen Fortunes" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Evelyn Everett-Green" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1906" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="45201" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-03-24" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Fallen Fortunes" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Fallen Fortunes" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="fallen.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-03-24T22:08:12.445239+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45201" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Evelyn Everett-Green" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2014-03-24" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="fallen-fortunes"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">FALLEN FORTUNES</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Fallen Fortunes -<br /> -<br />Author: Evelyn Everett-Green -<br /> -<br />Release Date: March 24, 2014 [EBook #45201] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>FALLEN FORTUNES</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 59%" id="figure-37"> -<span id="the-scheming-kinsman"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The scheming kinsman (page 46)." src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The scheming kinsman (page </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id2">46</a><span class="italics">).</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">FALLEN -<br />FORTUNES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">E. EVERETT-GREEN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD. -<br />LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK -<br />1906</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold medium">CONTENTS.</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#on-the-field-of-ramillies">On the Field of Ramillies</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#hartsbourne">Hartsbourne</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#id1">The Scheming Kinsman</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#on-the-road">On the Road</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-high-born-dame">A High-born Dame</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-pastimes-of-the-town">The Pastimes of the Town</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-fair-face">A Fair Face</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-startling-discovery">A Startling Discovery</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-mad-world-my-masters">"A Mad World, my Masters"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-old-lion">"The Old Lion"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-lion-s-den">The Lion's Den</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#triumph">Triumph</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-hero-of-the-hour">The Hero of the Hour</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#fickle-fortune">Fickle Fortune</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#dark-days">Dark Days</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-night-adventure">A Night Adventure</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-the-house-of-the-duke">In the House of the Duke</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#good-queen-anne">"Good Queen Anne"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#love-s-triumphing">Love's Triumphing</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#merry-as-a-marriage-bell">Merry as a Marriage Bell</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold medium">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-scheming-kinsman">The scheming kinsman.</a><span> . . . . . . Frontispiece</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-old-garden-was-another-favourite-haunt-of-hers">The old garden was another favourite haunt of hers.</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#he-stood-quite-still-to-watch-lord-sandford-lead-away-the-fair-geraldine">He stood quite still to watch Lord Sandford lead -away the fair Geraldine.</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#id5">The hero of the hour.</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="on-the-field-of-ramillies"><span class="bold x-large">FALLEN FORTUNES.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ON THE FIELD OF RAMILLIES.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"By the beard of the Prophet, we are in luck's -way at last, Dicon; for if that be not the -armies of the French and the Allies drawn up in -battle array, my name is not Grey Dumaresq!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The speaker had just pushed his horse over the -brow of a slope which he and his servant had for -some time been mounting, through the steamy warmth -of a foggy May morning. The thick haze which lay -heavy in this region of marshy ground had hidden -the surrounding country from them hitherto; but as -they reached the summit of the gradual rise they had -been ascending, the cloud wreaths suddenly drifted -away, and the sun began to shine out upon the -undulating plain stretched before their eyes; and lo, -the plain was alive with squadrons of soldiers—infantry, -cavalry, artillery—drawn up in battle array; -and the note of the bugle rang through the air, -whilst away in the distance, on the opposite side of -the plain, there was a movement which told that -already the battle had begun. A sullen roar from -the guns boomed forth, and the whole plain shook -with the reverberation. Great masses of smoke -rolled along and slowly dispersed after each salvo; -but it was upon the evolutions of the bodies of -horsemen and footmen that the keen eyes of the -youthful traveller were intently fixed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dicon," he cried, "this is in all sooth a battle; and -where the battle rages, there will the great victor of -Blenheim be. We have not chanced upon this route -in vain. Men warned us of the perils of seeking -passage through a country which has become the -theatre of war; but fortune's star has befriended -us thus far, and now, if I mistake me not, we stand -within sight of the greatest warrior of the age. For -greatly shall I be astonished if the Duke of Marlborough -himself be not conducting the evolutions of -yonder squadrons."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The brilliant dark eyes of the young man lighted -with a great glow of excitement and admiration. He -shaded them with his hand, and intently followed -the evolutions of the moving masses in the plain -stretched before his eyes. He was looking upon -the village of Tavières and the mound of Ottomond, -and the waters of the Mehaign rolled below at his -feet. The right wing of the French army rested here, -as he quickly saw; but for the moment the main -activity lay over in the distance beyond Ramillies -and Offuz, in the direction of Anderkirk. Yet as -the traveller stood intently gazing, he saw a -movement in the line of the allied army on this nearer -side, and he exclaimed aloud in his excitement,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See, Dicon, see! That attack yonder is but a -feint. The key of the position lies here beneath us -at Tavières, with its Tomb of Ottomond. See yonder -those regiments of marching soldiers creeping round -beneath the shelter of that rising ground! They will -fling themselves upon the enemy's right, whilst the -French general is diverting his available forces to -protect his left. Villeroi, my friend, you did not -well to dispose your forces in concave lines. You -lose time in passing from place to place; and with -such a general as our English Duke pitted against -you, you cannot afford to lose any point in the game. -Ha! See that? The Dutch and English soldiers are -charging down upon Tavières! Watch how they -come on—a great resistless tide of well-drilled -veterans. See how they sweep all before them! See -how the French fly forth! Ha, Villeroi, what think -you now? Yes, you see your error; fain would you -hurry back your reserves from left to right. But -the time has gone by. They are miles away, and -here are the Allies carrying all before them! Hurrah -for old England! hurrah for the great Duke! Dicon, -have you stomach for the fight? Do you remember -Barcelona and Mountjuich? If we were men enough -to help there, why not here too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fellow thus addressed grinned from ear to ear, -and looked to the pistols in his holsters and the -sabre slung at his side. It would not have been -easy to define by a glance the nationality of this -pair, who evidently stood to each other in the -relation of master and man. Their faces were tanned -by sun and wind, their dress, which was somewhat -travel-stained and worse for wear, had plainly been -purchased as need suggested—a piece here, and a piece -there, and not all in the same land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The speaker wore upon his fair curling hair—which -was his own, and not one of the immense -periwigs then in vogue at home and abroad—a -Spanish sombrero of picturesque shape. His faded -doublet, with its gold lacings, might have been -English made, and was well cut, showing off the -graceful lines of the slender, well-proportioned figure; -but he wore buskins of soft Spanish leather with -gold eyelets, and the short cloak slung across the -saddle-bow had been purchased in Italy. He rode -a strong, mettlesome barb, whose glossy bay coat -shone like satin in the sunlight. The horse of the -servant looked somewhat jaded, but that of the -master might have just been taken from the stable. -He was one of those splendid chargers, half Irish, -half Spanish by blood, whose sureness of foot, -untiring energy, and unquenchable spirit and mettle, -made them at once the pride and joy of their owners. -Young Dumaresq might have cut a finer figure in his -own person, had he not elected to spend so large a -portion of his remaining fortune upon the beast he -now bestrode. But he had never for a moment -regretted the purchase; and he boasted that Don Carlos -had saved his life on more occasions than one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man's eyes were full of fire; his hand -was upon the hilt of his sword, which lay loose in its -scabbard; the horse was pawing the ground and -pulling on the rein, for the sound of battle was in his -ears, and he was snorting with eagerness to hurl -himself into the ranks of the combatants. The blare -of the bugles, the roar of the guns, the shouts, screams, -cheers of soldiers, the clash of sabres and the rattle of -musketry, were as music to his ears. Suddenly flinging -up his head, and uttering something between a snort -and a neigh, the creature was off like an arrow from -a bow, heading wildly, yet with a restraint and -self-control which spoke worlds for his training, towards -the hurly-burly raging through the battlefield below. -Grey Dumaresq cast a half-laughing glance in the -direction of his servant behind, who had set spurs -to his steed and was following.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Needs must, where the devil drives!" he said -with a laugh. "Don Carlos will make soldiers of us, -whether we will or no."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The battle of Ramillies was now raging. Marlborough's -generalship had already made its mark. -Tavières was in his hands; the right wing of the -enemy was shaken, and the Dutch and English -soldiers were preparing to charge the closely-serried -lines of the French, even before the travellers had -reached the scene of action. They heard whilst they -were yet half a mile away the concussion of that -charge, the yells of the soldiers, the cheers of the -Allies as they felt the wavering of their foes. But -the French, though the first line had been broken, -were not vanquished yet. The second line was -composed of the pick of the young nobility—men -careless of personal peril, disdainful of death, desirous -only of glory and of victory. Upon these picked -troops the Allies flung themselves in fury; but they -stood their ground and hurled back the attacking -lines, as the rocks of an iron-bound coast fling back -the oncoming waves of the ocean. It was now -impossible for the traveller to gauge what was -happening. He was too near the scene of the -tumult; but he was in the very nick of time to -bear a share in one of the minor incidents of the -day, which might have proved one of infinite -disaster to the cause of his country.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duke of Marlborough, who had been directing -the attack upon the French right, saw that this -second charge was less successful than the first, and -giving orders for reinforcements to be hurried up, -he himself galloped in the direction of the fight, to -encourage with his own presence the wavering soldiers, -and direct the next critical operations in person. -He was exceedingly well mounted, and his horse, wild -with excitement, and feeling all that sympathy with -his master's mood which is natural to these noble -creatures, carried him so swiftly forward, that after -he had galloped along the lines, giving orders here, -there, and everywhere as he passed, he overshot his -position, and without noting it in the confusion, -was almost alone and at some small distance from -his own lines. Before he could pull up his excited -horse, there was a sudden rush from the French -lines. Several young nobles and gentlemen had -recognized the Duke, had taken in the accidental isolation -of his position, and galloping forward with one -consent, surrounded him before he was well aware what -had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was just at this critical moment that the two -travellers, half stunned by the noise of the battle, -ignorant of what was happening, but eager for a -share in the fray, topped a little rise in the ground -which hid the plain from them, and came full upon -the scene of the Duke's danger. The great General -never lacked presence of mind, was never daunted -by personal peril. He had realized his position, and -setting his horse at a furious gallop, he had already -broken through the ring of would-be captors, and -was charging furiously for his own lines. At the -very moment when Grey Dumaresq and his servant -took in the meaning of what they saw, he had put -his horse at a wide ditch which lay across his path, -and the animal was rising to the leap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Zounds! but the beast is down! They will have -him again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This shout rose from Dicon's throat. Grey set his -teeth hard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the Duke himself; they shall never take -him. Don Carlos shall save him from that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duke's horse had fallen heavily, throwing his -rider over his head. Others besides his foes were -heading wildly for the spot. All who saw it knew -how much hung upon the turn of the next few -seconds. First of all came the young stranger, who -flung himself from his splendid horse, just as -Marlborough rose to his feet, bruised and shaken, but -with every faculty alert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mount, sire, mount!" cried the traveller, holding -the horse by the head to still his excited plunging. -"The enemy are closing round; but only mount, and -he will carry you safely. I will stake my last ducat -upon it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duke had hold of the saddle by now; one of -his own officers sprang forward to hold the stirrup. -Next instant the General was in the saddle; but the -head of the Colonel who stood at the stirrup was -rolling upon the ground. A cannon ball had carried it -off. How the Duke had escaped was a marvel and a -mystery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Excitement and lust of battle had fast hold of -Grey Dumaresq and his horse. The gallant -animal carried the Duke safely back to his own lines, -amid the cheers of his soldiers. The young man -swung himself upon the back of the riderless horse -belonging to the killed Colonel, and followed him, -scarce thinking what he was doing. None forbade -him. Many had seen his prompt and timely action; -many watched him as the tide of battle raged this -way and that, and saw that, whether a trained soldier -or not, this young stranger was no novice in the art of -war. The Duke himself turned more than once to -watch him, as he joined in some headlong charge, -and turned and wheeled, or gave thrust or parry -with the ease of practice and the skill which only -comes through experience. Once in a pause he -beckoned the young man to his side, and said,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would speak with you, sir, when I am at -leisure. Come to my quarters, wherever they may -be, when the battle is over. I have somewhat to -say to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man bowed low, and promised -compliance with this request; but it was many long -hours before he and the victorious General stood -face to face. The battle itself had been won in -less than four hours, but the pursuit had been -long, lasting far into the night; and the dawn was -well-nigh breaking in the eastern sky when Grey -received a message that the Duke desired speech of -him in the house at Meklert, where he had stopped -short, whilst his soldiers continued the pursuit of the -flying foe almost up to the walls of Louvain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marlborough was sitting at a table, whereon stood -the remains of a hasty meal; and from the writing -materials before him, it was plain that he had been -penning one of those dispatches to his wife without -which he could never rest, even after the most arduous -day's campaigning. He had changed some of his -clothes, and though pale and somewhat jaded, -preserved that air of elegance and distinction which was -always one of his most marked characteristics. But -even without spotless linen and fine array, there was -something in the high-bred courtesy of Marlborough's -manner, and in the singular beauty of his face and -person, which always won the hearts of those about -him, and particularly so during those years when the -magnificence of his military genius was making him -the man of greatest mark in Europe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose as the young stranger was ushered in, and -offered his hand with a frank and gracious courtesy -free from any alloy of condescension or patronage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish to thank you in person, sir, for the great -service you this day rendered me with such timely -promptitude. I have never bestridden a better horse, -and owe you much for the loan. I would fain learn -the name of the gentleman to whom I am so deeply -indebted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name, your Grace, is Grey Dumaresq; and -that of my horse, Don Carlos. I thank you for your -gracious words. We shall feel honoured for all time -in that kind Fortune gave us the chance of rendering -you some small aid in a moment of peril. The world -would have been terribly the poorer by this day's work, -had mischance touched the Duke of Marlborough!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The General smiled, and motioned the young man -to be seated. He himself took a seat opposite, and -studied him with some attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you and your good horse are in any sort disposed -to put your strength and skill at the service of -your country, Mr. Dumaresq, I think I can promise -you a position not far from my own person, which -will not be without opportunities of profit, and will -give scope to your prowess with sword and lance, -which I have had the opportunity of observing more -than once this day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man's face flushed with pleasure. He -looked eagerly into the face of the great man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Were I a free agent, your Grace, most gladly would -I take advantage of your offer, asking nothing better -at Fortune's hands than to serve you faithfully. But -I am on my way to England to learn news of my -father. For three years I have been absent from -my native shores. For three years I have been a -wanderer, and, I fear me, a spendthrift to boot. I have -spent or squandered the fortune with which I started -forth. Rumour has reached me that my father's -health has given way, and that I am needed at -home. I fear me I have not been a good son to -him heretofore. I must therefore seek to be the -solace of his declining years, if the reports I have -heard concerning him be true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marlborough mused awhile with a slight smile -upon his lips. He had a good memory for names, -and had an idea that Sir Hugh Dumaresq, the -probable father of the youth before him, had not -been a man to inspire any very deep affection -in the heart of his son. He bore the reputation -of being a rake of the first order. It was said -that he had broken his wife's heart, and cared -nothing for the boy who would succeed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is a pious resolution on your part, my -friend. I trust you may be rewarded, and I will -not seek to stay you. Methinks your mother was -a good and gentle woman. Her son will live to do -her credit yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man's eyes lighted, and his face -softened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother was an angel upon this earth. Would -God I had not lost her so soon! Did you know her, -my lord? She was kinswoman to the hapless Lord -Grey, who took up the cause of the Duke of -Monmouth twenty years since, and whom your Grace -defeated and routed on the field of Sedgemoor, -fatal to so many. She gave me her name, and -she bequeathed to me the small fortune which -passed into my keeping three years ago, when I -came of age. Since then I have been a wanderer -in many lands. I have seen hard blows given and -taken; I have been in many perils and battles. I -was with Lord Peterborough when he fell upon the -fort of Mountjuich, and made himself master of -Barcelona, just when all hope of taking it seemed -at an end. I have fought in the ranks of the -Duke of Savoy against the veterans of France. I -have been a soldier of fortune for this year or -more, and though often in peril and hard pressed, -have never received aught but a scratch now and -again. I did hope that I should not travel -northwards without seeing something of the campaign -under the great Duke, whose name is in all men's -mouths; but I did not dare to ask or hope for -the honour which has been mine to-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marlborough's eyes lighted as the young man -spoke, and he asked many quick and pertinent -questions of the traveller anent those lands of -Spain and Italy, in whose politics and disposition -of parties he was so keenly interested. He had -desired above all things to prosecute this summer an -Italian campaign. Difficulties with the Dutch -field-deputies alone hindered the more dashing and offensive -policy which he would so gladly have adopted. He -listened with keen interest to Grey's account of his -journey through Savoy, his interview with Victor -Amadeus, and his successful feat of carrying -important dispatches into Turin, though hemmed in -by the French, and waiting sorrowfully for relief; -and his escape thence, and journey to the camp or -Prince Eugene, who was seeking to carry relief to -the Duke of Savoy, and eventually to drive the -French back over their own borders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this was intensely interesting to Marlborough, -and he more than ever felt a desire to keep in his -service a youth who seemed to possess so many of the -qualifications which he most prized. But he was a -man, too, who never undervalued the domestic side of -life, or willingly interfered with the duties engendered -by filial or conjugal ties. So he checked the words -which had well-nigh risen once again to his lips, and -only said graciously,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have indeed been smiled upon by Dame -Fortune, Mr. Dumaresq. Many a young blood would -give half his fortune for the chances you have had. -Methinks the world will hear of you yet. The brow -of a poet, the thews of a warrior, a head calm and -well-balanced, and a soul that shrinks not in the hour -of peril—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused a moment, and the young man's cheek -glowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your Grace thinks too highly of my poor merits, -I fear me. I trust I have not spoken as a braggart; -for, in sooth, it is little I have to boast me of. A good -horse beneath me, a faithful comrade by my side, a -keen Toledo blade in mine hand, and all else came -of itself. I have been happy in my days of peril -and adventure; but now I must lay aside my weapons -and my roving habits, and strive to show myself -a good son, and take up my duties as my father's right -hand and helper, if it be true that he is laid aside from -active life, and needs me with him henceforth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marlborough had taken up a pen, and was writing -a few lines upon a sheet of paper which lay upon the -table. When he had finished, he handed it open to -the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A pass for yourself and your servant, Mr. Dumaresq; -you may find it useful in passing through a -disturbed country. But you will be wise to avoid the -French frontier, and all cities where they have -garrisons, and to confine yourself to the Dutch -Netherlands, to make your way to the Hague, and thence -to England. With this pass in your possession, you -should then have small difficulty in travelling without -molestation. And let me ask you if you have funds -sufficient for your needs, since it is dear work at -times travelling through a country devastated by war, -and I would not have my benefactor crippled for lack -of a few pieces of gold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man's face flushed slightly, but his eyes -were frank and smiling. He laid his hand upon an -inner breast pocket, and tapped it significantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank your Grace from my heart; but, albeit I -have squandered my fortune something too lavishly, -I have yet enough and to spare to take me home. -Were it otherwise," he added, with a very engaging -look upon his handsome features, "there is nobody to -whom I would be more gladly indebted than to his -Grace of Marlborough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duke's face was pleasant to see. He had -taken a great liking for this young man. He -hesitated a moment, and said,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You would not care to sell your horse? I would -give a goodly price for such a charger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My lord, if I loved him less, most gladly would I -beg your Grace's acceptance of him, and would rejoice -that Don Carlos should be thus honoured. As it is, -he is the greatest friend and best comrade I possess -in the world. I trow I must needs take him home -with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are right, boy, you are right. And it is better -so; for he might meet a bloody end any moment in -these rough campaigning days. But you must not go -hence without some token of the good will and -gratitude John Churchill bears you. Take this ring, and -wear it for my sake. And should ever trouble, or -loss, or misfortune fall upon you, and you be in need, -in my absence abroad, of a friend at home, take it -and show it to my wife. I shall write to her of this -day's peril, and how I was saved in the nick of time; -and when she sees that ring in your hands, she will -know who was her husband's deliverer, and will know, -too, how to receive and reward him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ring held out was a large amethyst of great -brilliance and beauty, with a curious oriental-looking -head engraved upon it, with what might be a legend -in some Eastern tongue. It was a trinket which, once -seen, would not easily be forgotten, and Grey -Dumaresq slipped it upon his finger with a smile of -gratification. It was no small thing to feel himself thus -honoured by Europe's greatest general.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose to his feet and bowed low; but Marlborough -held out his hand and pressed his fingers warmly. -"I shall not forget you, my friend. I trust that -yours will be one of the faces that will greet me first, -when I shall return home to England after the close -of the campaign."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man's face lighted with pleasure at -these words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think your Grace may rely upon that," he said. -"I thank you with all my heart for this most -gracious reception."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The thanks are mine to give—yours to receive," -spoke the Duke with his winning graciousness. -"Farewell, my friend. May Dame Fortune continue -to smile upon your career; and may you live to be -prosperous and famous, and find one to love and be -loved by faithfully—for, believe me, without true -conjugal love, a man's life is desolate and empty, and -nothing can fill the ache of a heart that has no loving -ones at home to rejoice with him in his joy and weep -at his misfortunes. Ambition may go far, success -may be sweet; but it is love which is the true elixir -of life. A man who loves and is loved can defy -misfortune, poverty, even age and sickness and death; for -love alone is eternal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke like one inspired, and his whole face -kindled. Grey Dumaresq never forgot the smile -upon the face of the great victorious General, as he -saw it in that little room at Meldert on the morrow -of the victory of Ramillies.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="hartsbourne"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HARTSBOURNE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The soft June dusk was falling with dewy -freshness over smiling meadow and forest glade, and -the long, long shadows were melting away in the -dimness of a night that would never be dark, when Grey -Dumaresq halted upon the brow of a little hill, and -gazed before and around him with eager pleasure, -not untinged with wistfulness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somewhere amid those swelling woodlands lying to -the south-west lay his childhood's home. He had -hoped to make this spot ere the sun sank; and then -he knew he could have traced the gleam of the -shining streamlet, slipping like a silver streak between -masses of sombre green. He might even, if the -leaves had not made too thick a screen, have descried -the twisted chimneys and timbered gables of the old -house itself. His heart beat and his throat swelled -as he gazed out over the darkening prospect. How -he had loved that home of his so long as it had been -blessed by his mother's presence there! With what -proud delight had he sometimes pictured to himself -the time when it might be his own, his very own! -From childhood he had been called "the little -master—the little heir." If his mother had not dubbed him -so, the servants had. For Sir Hugh Dumaresq, alas, -had not been a man to inspire either affection or -respect in the hearts of servants or of son, and the -child had dreamed dreams of the golden days which -he and his mother might some day enjoy, when he -should be lord of all, and live to wipe away tears -from her eyes, and ensure that nothing should trouble -or harass her again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That fond dream had died its own death when the -mother was laid to sleep beneath the churchyard sod, -and the boy, broken-hearted and indifferent to his -fate, had gone forth first to school and then to college, -and had known the sweet word "home" no longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was years now since he had seen Hartsbourne. -At first he could not bear the idea of revisiting it, to -find it empty of the one loved presence which had -made it what it was to him. Afterwards his father -had ceased to dwell there, had lived more and more -in London, had even let the old Manor, as Grey heard -before he quitted England for the roving life of the -past three years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had been somewhat hurt and angry when this -was told him; for he had planned to go and bid the -old place farewell, and he no longer cared to do so -then. True, it was a kinsman who dwelt there now. -His father had spoken of him with a cynical smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is next of kin, after you, my son; and he has a -greater gift of thrift than will ever be mine or yours, -I take it. If anything should befall you on these -wanderings upon which your heart is set, he would -be the one to come after me, and take title and estates -in his own right. If he like now to pay me my -price, he may share the old house with the rats and -the bats, for all I care. I love not to spend good -money upon leaking roofs and bowing walls. Give -me the parks and the coffee-houses, the Mall and the -play-house! The devil may fly away with that -rotten old house, for all I care!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This sentiment, rapped out with a good many of -the fashionable oaths of the time, had been Grey's -first intimation that his beloved old home was falling -into decay. As a child it had seemed all the more -perfect from that lack of newness or primness, the -wildness of the garden, the encroachments of weed -and woodland, which mark the first stages of decay. -These words had opened his eyes to the fact that his -father was letting the old place take care of itself, -without regard to the future, and even then he had -been conscious of the stirrings of a certain vague -resentment. But he had been powerless to act; for -although he had just received a small fortune which -his mother had hoarded for him, and which had been -nursed for him by a kinsman on the Grey side, he -had no power to take over Hartsbourne and expend -his wealth upon the old home; moreover, by that -time the longing for travel and adventure was keen -upon him, and he had made every arrangement for -a tour of the then known world. His father rather -encouraged than lamented his proposed absence; and -the youth longed to be his own master, and to feel -the strength of his wings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet now, after three years' wandering about the -world, Grey found himself gazing with a swelling -heart upon the familiar outlines of the region of his -childhood's home, and the voices of the past seemed -calling him aloud—tender, sweet-toned voices, which -had been silent for long, but which awoke now to -cry aloud with strange insistence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The solemn moon rose over the tree-tops as Grey -gazed breathlessly upon the dim panorama before -him, and instantly the world became flooded with -a mystic radiance. A church spire stood suddenly -out like a silver beacon, and Grey caught his breath -as he watched; for his mother's grave lay beneath -the walls of that little church, and the cross upon its -apex seemed like a finger beckoning to him to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yonder is our goal, Dicon," spoke the young man, -as his servant, whom he had outridden in his eager -haste, spurred up the ridge to his side. "You cannot -see the house in this uncertain light; but it lies in -yon deep hollow, away to the right from the church. -The river winds about it, guarding it from ill, as I -used to think in my boyish fantasy. I have seen -the harts and does come down from the forest to -drink at its waters. Hartsbourne was the name -they gave the house, and methinks it was well -named. Ah me!—to think how many years have -passed since I beheld it all! Hark! Can you not -hear the old familiar voices calling the wanderer -home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The honest servant nodded his head with a smile -upon his rugged features. He loved his young master -devotedly, and was not unaccustomed to share his -musings, whether they were dashed with poetic -melancholy or were full of reckless daring. -Whatever his master's mood, honest Dick admired him -with equal fervour. As their horses picked a way -down the descent in the darkness, he hazarded a -question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think you will find your noble father there, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, surely yes, Dicon. Where should a man be -when failing in health and strength, if not at his own -home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As for that, sir, I know nothing. But you have -told me how that he loved not his own house, but -gave it over into the hands of his kinsman, that he -might take his pleasure elsewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very true, Dicon; but that was when he was -hale and strong. When ill-health and feebleness -overtook him, I doubt not that all was changed. -True, I have not heard from him these many -months; but that is no marvel, since I myself have -been a very wandering Jew. But the gentleman who -brought me news of him unawares did say that he -was about to quit London, for whose giddy round -he had no longer strength or inclination. I have -never doubted but that Hartsbourne would be the -place of his choice; and hither have I come. I -might have learned news of him by going straight -to London; but why turn aside from our way for -that, when I feel so sure that it is here we shall -find him? Doth not nature call every man home -to his bed at night, and to his own home at the close -of his life? My father is not old—Heaven send he -may live long yet; but if disease has crippled his -powers and robbed him of his zest of life, I doubt -not but that it is here we shall surely find him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two days previously the travellers had landed -safely at the port of Harwich, having had a safe -and speedy crossing from the Hague. The pass -given them by the Duke of Marlborough had -rendered their journey from Louvain an easy one. -From the seaport, Grey had taken the direct road -into Hertfordshire, feeling certain that here, and not -in London, would he now find his father. He had -hoped to arrive ere set of sun; but a few mischances -along the road, and the sultry heat of the midday -hours, had delayed them. Nevertheless, being now -so near, he pressed on steadily. He could not rest -so near to home, save beneath the old roof-tree. As -the windings of the path grew more familiar, his -heart throbbed in his breast. Here they passed the -boundary of his father's estate. That broken cross -marked the spot. And yonder, sleeping in the -moonlight, hoary and beautiful, lay the ruined fragments -of what had once been an old priory. He could see -that the walls had crumbled away during his years -of absence; but one beautiful arch still stood as of -old, the delicate tracery showing clear in the -moonlight. White owls flitted from the thick wreaths -of ivy, and hooted weirdly as they sailed by on -noiseless wing. A wild cat leaped out with a -menacing yell, and both horses snorted and plunged -at the sight and sound. Dick's hand was on his -pistol stock; but seeing what it was, he uttered a -half uneasy laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A bad omen, my master," he spoke, as he quieted -his horse. "That wild black thing was liker some -witch or devil than aught I have clapped eyes on -this many a day. Saints preserve us from spell or -charm!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Dick, albeit a good Protestant by profession, -had caught some of the phrases of the people in -whose lands he had dwelt, and he was by no means -free from superstition, though a bold enough rogue to -meet any peril that he could combat with sword or -bullet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tush, Dicon! Dost fear a cat, man? For my -part, I love all the wild things of the woods, and -would be the friend of all. See yonder! There -should be a tangled path leading down through the -forest glade, and across the stream by a ford to the -house itself. Methinks I cannot lose the way, though -the path be overgrown, and the light treacherous.—Onward, -good Carlos! Fodder and rest are nigh at -hand. Within the space of half an hour you and I -should both be installed safely at home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Home! The word was as music to his ears. It -seemed to set itself to the beat of the horses' hoofs -along the tangled path, which Grey had some trouble -in finding. But once found, he was able to trace it -without difficulty; and soon the soft whisper of the -water fell upon his ears, and the stream lay before -him shining in the moonlight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How beautiful it was upon this still June night! -The young green of the trees could not shut out the -silvery beams of the moon. The forest was full of -whispering voices, and every voice seemed to be -welcoming back the stranger-son. The warblers -amid the sedges and the fringe of alders along the -course of the winding stream filled the air with soft -music, not less sweet, if less powerful, than that of -the nightingale pouring out his heart in song a little -farther away. Sometimes a sleeping deer in some -deep hollow sprang up almost from beneath their -feet, and dashed, phantom-like, away into the dim -aisles of the wood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now the wall loomed up before them which -separated the house and its precincts from the -wilderness of wood and water beyond. Grey well knew -this mouldering wall, from which the coping had -fallen in many places, and which showed more than -one ill-repaired breach in the once sound masonry. -The ivy had grown into a tangled mass upon it, and -was helping to drag it down. Any active marauder -could have scaled it easily. But Grey turned his -horse, and skirted round it for some distance. For -he knew that a door at the angle gave entrance into -the stable-yard, and from thence to the courtyard -and entrance-hall of the old house; and as it was -already past midnight, he preferred to take this way -rather than approach by the avenue to the front of -the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned the angle of the wall, and there was the -entrance he was making for. But how desolate it all -looked! The double doors had rusted from off their -hinges, and stood open, none seeming to care to close -them at night. The courtyard was so grass-grown -that the feet of the horses scarcely sounded as they -entered. A range of stables stood half open, some -mouldy straw rotting in the stalls, but no signs of -life either in the stables below or the living-rooms -above. Grey directed Dicon to the forage store, and -bade him look if there were not something to be -found there for the horses; and whilst the man was -thus engaged, finding enough odds and ends to serve -for a meal for the beasts, the master passed through -an inner door into a second courtyard, and gazed -upward at a range of lancet windows which, in former -days, had belonged to the rooms occupied by the -servants.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not a light glimmered in any casement; not a dog -barked challenge or welcome. It was not wonderful -that the house should be dark and silent at such an -hour; but it was more than darkness which reigned -here. There was a look of utter desolation and -neglect brooding over the place. Broken casements -hung crazily, and swung creaking in the night air. -Tiles had slipped from the roof, chimney stacks -seemed tottering to their fall. True, the great -nail-studded oaken door, which Grey well remembered as -leading through a long arched passage past the -servants' quarters and into the front entrance-hall, was -closed and locked; but rust had eaten deep into all -the iron work, and cobwebs hung in festoons from -the eaves of the dilapidated porch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In vain Grey beat upon the door with the pommel -of his sword. Not a sound from within betokened -the presence of living creature. A sudden fear shook -him lest he had come too late. This idea had never -troubled him before. His father was still young in -years. Dissipation might have weakened him, made -him an easy prey to disease; but surely, surely had -aught worse than that befallen, he would have heard -it—he would have been summoned back. It was -not any very tender bond that had existed betwixt -father and son; but after all, they had no one else. -Grey felt his heart grow suddenly cold within him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then a new idea entered his head. He turned -away from the door, and passed hastily through the -courtyard into a walled enclosure beyond, which had -plainly once been a fine kitchen-garden, where giant -espaliers still lined the paths, and masses of apple -blossom glimmered ghostly in the moonlight. Striding -along one of the paths under the house wall, -where shuttered windows, looking like blind eyes, -gave back a stony stare, he reached at last a quaint -little offshoot of the house, set in an angle where -house and garden wall joined; and he uttered a short -exclamation of satisfaction as he saw that here there -were traces of habitation in clean, bright window -panes, flowers in a strip of border beneath, and a -door that looked as though it could move upon its -hinges. Upon this door he thumped with hearty -good will.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jock! Jock! Wake up, man—wake up! Don't -tell me that you are a ghost too—that the old house -is peopled only with ghosts of the past.—A dog's -bark! Good! Where there is dog, there is man.—Wake -up, Jock! Wake up and open the door. -Have no fear. It is I—the young master."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God bless my soul! Ye don't say so!" cried a -cracked voice from within.—"Quiet, Ruff; be still, -man!—Yes, yes, I'm comin', I'm comin'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sound of a bolt slipped back gave evidence -of this, and next moment the door was opened from -within, a shaggy head was thrust forth, and an old -man, evidently just risen from his bed, gazed for a -moment at the intruder, who stood plainly revealed -in the moonlight and uttered a heartfelt exclamation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heaven be praised!—it is Sir Grey himself!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man fell back as though before a blow. -"Sir Grey! What mean you by that, Jock? Sir Grey!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, master dear, you surely have heard the -news! You have been Sir Grey since the week -after Christmas."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean—my father—nay, Jock—how can I -speak the words?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He died two days after Christmas, Sir Grey. He -had me with him to the last. He never trusted that -knave of a kinsman, not he, though he had let -himself get fast into his clutches. Ah, if you had but -been with us then! Woe is me! for we wanted you -sorely. It was hard upon All Saints' Day that the -old master came back. He was sick; he had lost the -use of his limbs. The leeches said they could do -naught for him, but that he might live to be an old -man yet. He made light of it at first. He vowed -he would cheat them all. But we all saw death in -his face. In two months he lay over yonder by the -side of our sweet lady."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jock, though no great speaker at ordinary times, -had made, for him, a long speech, because the young -master said not a word, but stood leaning against the -angle of the wall as though overcome by the news he -had heard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And why was I not sent for?" The words were -a whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were, Sir Grey, you were—leastways the -master told me so. He said that Mr. Barty had -written many letters, and sent them after you by -trusty messengers. But Lord, if 'twere only what -that rogue said, belike the trusty messenger was -nothing better than the fire, into which he dropped his -own letters after satisfying the master by writing them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What mean you, Jock?" asked Grey, with dry -lips. "And who is this Mr. Barty of whom you speak?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith, none other but him as hopes one day to -style himself Sir Bartholomew Dumaresq—your -father's cousin, Sir Grey, and next of kin after you. -'Tis he as has got his grip so fast upon Hartsbourne -that it'll be a tough bit of work to shake it off. He's -got mortgages on the place, the old master told me at -the last, and he's been squeezing it like a sponge -these many years—cutting the timber, grinding the -tenants, living like a miser in one corner of the house, -letting all else go to wrack and ruin, that there may -be nothing for the heir to come into. Oh, the master -saw through him at the last, that he did; but 'twas -too late then. Here he is, stuck fast like a leech to -the old place, and sucking its life-blood dry, and -protected by the law, so that even you can't touch him; -the master told me that before he died. He'd got -him to sign papers when he was merry with wine, -and knew not nor cared what he signed. So long as -Mr. Barty supplied him with money, he cared for -naught else; and now he's got such a grip on house -and lands that it'll be a matter of years before ever -he can be got out, if ever that day come at all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A numb feeling began to creep over Grey. He -felt like one walking in a bad dream. The blow of -hearing of his father's death was a heavy one. It -seemed to shake the foundations of his life to their -very base. And now his home was lost to him! -Little as he understood the machinations of his -kinsman, he grasped that he had come into nothing but a -barren title and nominal possession of a ruinous and -dilapidated old house, the revenues of which were in -some way alienated to another. He had heard such -tales before. He did not discredit old Jock's recital. -It fitted in only too well with what he knew of his -father's recklessness and selfish expenditure, and his -kinsman's artful grasping policy. So, after all, he -had come to a home that was not his; and he would -have to face the world again as something very like -a beggar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Jock's hand upon his arm aroused him to a -sense of outward things. Dicon had come up, and -was listening with wide eyes and falling jaw to the -recital of the same story as had been told in outline -to Grey. The fuller details only made it sound more -true and lifelike.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Sir Grey, come in. There's bite and -sup for you in the cupboard. The old master didn't -forget me, and I can make shift to earn my bread by -hook or by crook even without regular wage. Come -in, come in, and I'll give ye what I've got for ye. -'Twas all the old master had left from his hoard; but -he said it would give you a start in life, and that -your wits must do the rest. He gave it me private -like, when Mr. Barty was off the place, and I buried -it beneath the hearthstone that same day. 'Tis all -safe for you, Sir Grey; and you won't go penniless -into the world, for all that this villain of a kinsman -reigns at Hartsbourne, where you should be."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="id2"><span id="id1"></span><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE SCHEMING KINSMAN.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>They sat face to face in a room which Grey well -remembered. It had been lined with folios -in those days—great tomes in which he had dug with -breathless delight, for the treasures of wood-cuts and -the strange stories they possessed—and illuminated -missals, where, amid a mass of gilding and wonderful -colours, the story of saint or martyr could be traced. -Other and more modern works had been also there, -specimens of the art of printing as carried on through -the days of the Stuarts. But where were all these -tomes and scrolls and books now? Grey swept the -empty shelves with quick, indignant glances. A -motion of his hands seemed to ask the question his -lips were too proud to speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A small and wizened man sat before him, his eyes -furtively scanning the young man's face with an -unwinking attention. He could not have been old, this -parchment-faced kinsman—not more than five-and-forty -at the most—and yet he wore the look of an -old man, and was fond of speaking of himself as such. -The unhealthy pallor of his face bespoke a life of -inaction, and the lines and wrinkles on the puffy skin, -and the emaciation of the frame and claw-like hands, -seemed either to indicate some wasting disease, or else -a miser-like habit of life which denied its owner the -common necessaries of existence. Grey fancied that -perhaps this latter surmise might be the right one; -for he himself would have fared ill at breakfast that -morning, had it not been for the fish which Dicon had -caught and cooked for the pair, ere he presented -himself at the meal to which his kinsman invited him on -hearing of his advent to the old house. That meal -had been so frugal that Grey almost disdained to -partake of it. And now he and Mr. Dumaresq sat -facing each other in the green light which fell through -the big north window, against which the trees almost -brushed, rather like combatants in a duel, each of -which measures the strength and skill of the other -before attempting to strike.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wizened man made a deprecating gesture with -his hand, and answered the unspoken question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sold, sold—every one of them! I did my best -to keep them in the family, but it was of no avail. -Your father would have money—no matter at what -cost. I was toiling all I knew for him, as it was. -Everything that could be got out of the estate I -squeezed out for him. Never man had so faithful a -steward as I was to my poor cousin. But it was like -pouring water through a sieve. Nay, you need not -look so fiercely at me. I am not traducing the dead. -Ask those with whom he consorted. Ask the boon -companions he made in gay London town. Ask his -very servants, an you will. You will hear the same -tale from all. He spent money like water. Never -did he trouble his head where it was to come from. -I have papers; I can show them if you have -knowledge of the law enough to understand. I advanced -him sum after sum, on such poor security as this -tumble-down house and impoverished estate has to -offer. I beggared myself for his sake. He was the -only kinsman left me. I could deny him nothing. -And when my funds were gone, I must needs squeeze -all that could be squeezed out of the house and land. -The books went; the timber was felled; the pictures -were taken away; the best of the furniture went to -adorn the houses of merchants and parvenus. I -argued and entreated in vain. When the wild fit -was upon him, Hugh would listen to nothing. I had -to content myself with serving him, by seeing that -he was not cheated beyond bearing by the crew of -harpies he had around him. At least I secured him -equitable prices for family heirlooms; but it went to -my heart to see them vanish one by one. And now, -what is left save the shell of the old house, and an -estate burdened and impoverished well-nigh beyond -the power of redemption?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He heaved a great sigh, looking cunningly at the -young man out of the corners of his ferret-like eyes. -Grey's glance was stern and direct. His words were -quietly and coldly spoken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will see about that. I am here to take up -my burden. I will learn whether or not Hartsbourne -be past redemption."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You!" cried 'Mr. Dumaresq quickly; "and pray -what can you do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can live here quietly, and see what can be done -towards retrieving the past. Even if I toil with my -own hands, I shall think it no shame, if it be for the -home of my forefathers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You live here!" sneered the other, seeking to -mask the sneer by a smile; "and by what right will -you do that, pray?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am the owner," answered Grey proudly. "I -presume that I have the right to live in my own -house, and to administer such revenues as may be left -to the estate?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh yes, fair kinsman, so soon as the mortgages be -paid. I will get them out for your high mightiness -to examine. Pay them off, and house and manor are -yours to do with as you will. But till that time -come, I, and not you, am master here. The revenues -are mine; the house I have the right to occupy, to -the exclusion of any other. It is all writ fair to -see—signed and sealed. Will you see the papers for -yourself? They will make pleasant study for a -summer morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will look at the papers anon," answered Grey -quietly; "but first I would know from you what it -all means. It is you, not I, to whom Hartsbourne -belongs, then? You are the master, and I am the -guest?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For the present, yes; but a welcome guest, none -the less," spoke the older man with a repulsive leer. -"The situation, my bold young cousin, is easily -understood. Your father loved not the old family house. -I did love it. Could he have sold it, it would have -been mine long since; but he had not the power to -alienate it from the title. But he did all else that -was possible. He raised mortgage upon mortgage -upon it—first on the house, then on the land. I came -to live in the house, and paid him rent for it once. -Then I supplied him with money and took up the -mortgages. He and I had been boys together. The -tie between us was strong. I verily believe he was -glad to have me here, and when he was sick and -smitten with mortal disease he came hither to die, -and I was with him to the last. He was grateful for -my devoted service. He was glad to think that I -should live on here afterwards. 'It is no life for a -young man,' he said almost at the last. 'Grey will -carve out a career for himself. Here he could only -rot and starve like a rat in a hole.' And I pointed -out that you were my natural heir, and that you -might not have very long to wait before coming a -second time into your inheritance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey sat silent and baffled. It was little he knew -of the law; but he had heard before this of men who -had left nothing save debts and troubles for those who -came after them. Many a fair manor and estate -passed into alien hands for years, or even for -generations, when trouble fell upon the owners. He -understood only too well how it had been here at -Hartsbourne—everything squeezed out of the estate, -nothing put in, till at last the house was falling into -ruin, and the rights of the lord of the manor had -passed away from the owner. It was no consolation -to Grey that a Dumaresq had supplanted him. He -was cut to the heart by the selfish extravagance of his -father, and the way in which he had played into the -hands of this schemer. He saw how impossible it -would be to attempt to live here himself, even if he -could establish a legal right to do so. He was not -certain if his father could have done anything which -should actually hinder him from claiming possession -of the house which was his, but to find money to pay -off the mortgages—he might as well have sought for -money to buy the moon! And even then, how could -he live in a house without money, without servants, -without friends? No; he must seek to carve out a -fortune for himself. His fair dream of a peaceful life -in England as a country squire was shattered into a -thousand pieces. Some day perhaps—some day in -the dim and distant future, when fortune and fame -were his—he might come back to take possession of -his own. It should be his dream—the goal of his -ambition—to dwell at Hartsbourne as its lord and -master. But for the present he could call nothing his -own save the good horse cropping the lush June grass -in the paddock, and that casket so carefully hidden -beneath the hearthstone of old Jock's living-room. -He would look at the papers. He would make -careful study of them. He would take notes as to the -amount necessary to clear the estate and make him -master in reality. And then he would go; he would -not be beholden to this kinsman, whose shifty face he -distrusted heart and soul, though his words were -smooth and fair. He would ride forth into the fair -world of an English midsummer, and would see what -the future held there for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not an exhilarating hour which he spent -over the parchments spread out before his eyes, which -were eagerly explained to him by the lynx-eyed -kinsman, who seemed half afraid to trust them out of his -own claw-like clutches. But Grey perused them with -attention, making notes the while; and after studying -these at the close, whilst the deeds were being locked -away, he said,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then when I return with thirty thousand pounds -in my pocket, I can take over Hartsbourne, house -and lands and all, and be master of my own estate in -deed as well as in word?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And how are you to come by this thirty thousand -pounds, fair coz?" asked Mr. Dumaresq, with -something slightly uneasy in his shifty glance. "Right -gladly would I receive mine own, and make way for -a gallant gentleman like you; but where are these -riches of Aladdin to come from?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perchance from the same source as yours did -come, sir," answered Grey, looking full at his -interlocutor. "The Dumaresqs have not ranked as a -wealthy family since the days of the Civil War, when -they lost so much. But you seem to have found -fortune's golden key; and if you, why not I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Did he shrink and cower under these words, or was -it only Grey's fancy that he did so? The young man -could not be sure, though he had his suspicions. At -any rate he spoke suavely enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thrift and care, my young friend, care and thrift—these -qualities are better than any golden key of -hazard. My father was a careful, saving man, and -at his death bequeathed me greater wealth than I -dreamed he did possess. I followed in his footsteps -until, for your father's sake, I elected to prop the -falling fortunes of the house rather than live in -selfish affluence on my own revenues. Well, I did what -seemed right; and my reward shall be the hope of -seeing Hartsbourne one day restored to its former -glories. But for the present I must needs live like a -poor man, though that is no trouble to one who has -ever made thrift the law of life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey went forth from the presence of his kinsman -with a cloud on his brow and a fire in his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why doth he speak of himself as poor?" he -asked of himself. "He takes to himself all the -revenues of the estate; and when I was a boy, I always -heard that the farms were prosperous, the land fertile, -the timber fine, game and deer plentiful, and the -tenants able to pay their dues. If all that comes in -goes into his pocket, wherefore doth he live like a -miser? wherefore doth he let the house fall into -decay? he ruined himself for my father's sake? Tush! -A man with that face sacrifice himself for another! -Nay; but he is hoarding up gold for himself, or I -greatly mistake me. Truly do I believe that he is -playing some deep game of his own. Well, I can -but wait and see what time will bring forth. It -is a shame that the old house should be left to go to -ruin like this, with its revenues falling regularly into -the hands of a Dumaresq! Why doth he not spend -them upon the fine old structure, to make it what it -was before? Why, now I see. He thinks it would -stimulate me to fresh desire to make myself master. -He may haply think that I care not for a habitation -given up to rats and ghosts and cobwebs. He little -thinks that every fallen stone seems to cry out aloud -to me, and that the lower falls the old house in ruin -and neglect, the more urgent is the voice with which -it urges me to come and save it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man was walking up and down the -grass-grown avenue as he thus mused. From thence -he could see in perspective the long south front, with -its many mullioned windows, its beautiful oriels, and -the terrace up and down which he had raced in the -days of his happy childhood. Straight in front was -the eastern portion of the house, with its great -entrance doors, led up to by a fine double stairway, -beneath which a coach could stand, and its occupants -in wet weather enter by a lower door. But the stone -work was chipped and broken; the balustrade had -lost many of its balls, which lay mouldering in the -long grass that grew up to the very walls. Moss -and lichen and stone-crop clothed all, and the creepers -which clung about the house itself were wild and -tangled, and in many cases had completely overgrown -the very windows, so that scarce a trace of them -could be seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet even in its decay the old house was strangely -beautiful, and Grey's heart was stirred to its depths. -He wandered through the tangled garden, and out -towards the fish-ponds beyond and then by a winding -pathway he made his way to the churchyard, and -stood bare-headed at his mother's grave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will win it back, mother; I will win it back!" He -spoke the words aloud, in a low-toned, earnest -voice. "You loved the place, and you taught me to -love it. For that alone I would seek to call it one -day mine own. I will win it back, and methinks -your heart will rejoice when your son is ruling there -at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had meant to leave that very day; but there -was much he longed to see, and his kinsman had -given him an earnest invitation to pass the night -beneath the old roof-tree. Repugnant as this man -was to him, and bitterly as he resented his conduct -and distrusted his motives, it was not in the young -man's nature to be churlish. Every hour of daylight -he spent wandering about the place, revisiting his -boyish haunts, and chatting with old Jock, who, -without being able to give any exact reason for it, -distrusted and despised the present master as heartily -as Grey himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old master did too, at the last. I am main -sure of it," he said; "else for why should he have -given me yon box, sir? And why should he have -bidden me hide it and guard it, and let none see it -till Sir Grey should claim it himself? For years he -had thought him a friend; but I trow he knew him -for a false one at the last. You'll best him yet, Sir -Grey—see if you don't. A villain always outwits -himself in the end. You'll be master here one day, -please God, or my name's not Jock Jarvis!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had taken out the casket, and found that it -contained three hundred golden guineas—the remnant -of his father's fortune, and all that he had been able -to preserve to his son of what had once been a fine -estate. A few words cautioned Grey to be careful of -the hoard, and let no one know of its existence—"no -one" plainly meaning his kinsman. It also contained -a few faintly traced words of farewell, and -just a plea for forgiveness—evidently written when -mortal weakness was upon the writer—which brought -sudden tears to the eyes of the son, and blotted out -the bitterness of heart which had been growing up -as he mused upon his fallen fortunes and his lost -inheritance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening Grey supped with his kinsman in a -corner of the despoiled library, which seemed the -only room in the house now lived in. He had walked -through some of the other state apartments, denuded -of their pictures and the best of the furniture, and -looking ghostlike with closed shutters and overgrown -windows. He had not had heart to pursue his -investigations far; and all that he carried away with -him were saddened memories, and one little mouldering -volume of poems, with his mother's name on the -fly leaf, which he had found lying in a corner of -the little room with the sunny oriel, where she had -passed the greater part of her time. He thought he -even remembered the book in her hands; and he -slipped it into his breast as though it were some -great treasure. The sneering smile of his kinsman -as he bade him keep the volume, and saw where he -placed it, did not endear him any the more. He -wished he could get rid of his companionship, but -that seemed impossible; and Grey soon gave up the -tour of the house, and let himself be led back to -the library.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I have no plans," he said briefly, as they sat -at their frugal supper, to which, in honour of the -occasion, a small flagon of wine had been added. "I -think I shall remain in England. I have been a -wanderer something too long. A homely saying tells -us that the rolling stone gathers no moss. I have -youth and health and strength, and the world lies -before me. Men have won success with more against -them before this, and why not I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should have thought the battlefield would have -tempted you. There is honour and renown to be -won there, to say nothing of the spoils of a -vanquished foe," spoke Mr. Dumaresq, looking at him in -a peering, crafty fashion. "Surely a gallant young -gentleman of your birth and training would not lack -for opportunities of distinction amid the perils and -glories of war!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly Grey became aware that his kinsman -was anxious for him to go and fight in the cause of -the Allies. It could not be that he had heard of -the happy chance which had made Marlborough his -friend, for he had spoken of that to none; and -even if Dicon had boasted to old Jock, neither cared -to have aught to do with the deaf and cross-grained -serving-man who waited upon the master within -doors. A moment more and Grey had found the -clue, and realized that his own death would make -Bartholomew Dumaresq not only absolute master of -Hartsbourne, but a baronet to boot; and in every -battle thousands of brave soldiers were left dead upon -the field, whilst many fell victim to wounds and the -ravages of disease caught during the hard weeks -of campaigning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I shall remain in England," he answered -quietly. "I have seen something of war, but a career -of peace has more attractions for me;" and he smiled -to see the look of chagrin which played for a moment -over the crafty face of his kinsman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey did not find it easy to sleep when he had -climbed up into the great canopied bed in the guest -chamber allotted to him. He scarcely remembered -this room. It was very large, and before he went to -rest Grey drew aside all the mouldering draperies -from the windows, and opened every casement wide -to the summer night. Even so the place felt musty. -There were strange creakings and groanings of the -furniture, and the owls without hooted and hissed in -the ivy wreaths. More than one bat flew in and out, -circling over his head in uncanny flight; and had it -not been that the previous night had been an almost -sleepless one, Grey would scarce have closed an eye. -As it was, he grew drowsy gradually, and felt a -strange swimming in his head to which he was a -stranger. He was just wondering whether the wine -he had taken at supper, the taste of which seemed -curious to him at the time, could have anything to do -with this, when sleep suddenly fell upon him like a -pall, and for a space he could not gauge he remained -lapped in the unconsciousness of oblivion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What was it roused him? Or was he indeed -awake? The moonlight streamed into the room, and -lay like bars upon the floor. Its radiance was -sufficient to light every corner of the room, and Grey -found himself lying still as a stone, yet sweeping -every corner with his gaze, for surely he was not -alone. He felt some presence close beside him, yet -where could it be?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly his gaze travelled upwards, and for a few -awful seconds he lay gazing as the bird before the -gaze of the snake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A shining poniard hung, as it were, over his head. -He saw the gleaming silver of the blade. Its haft -was grasped by a hand—a lean, claw-like hand. Its -point was aimed at his own heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a few endless seconds Grey lay staring up -helplessly. Then the blade moved swiftly downwards. -With a motion as swift, the young man threw himself -sidewise out of bed and upon the floor, and turning, -sprang to his feet to meet the murderous foe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behold there was nothing! He was alone in the -great moonlit room. The curtains behind the bed's -head were slightly shaken—nothing more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horrified and bewildered, Grey dashed them aside. -Behind was a wall panelled like the rest of the room -in black oak. Was it his fancy, or had he heard just -as he sprang to his feet the click as of a closing spring? -Grey passed his hand over and over the woodwork, -but could find nothing to give a clue. Old memories -of secret sliding panels, unknown passages to hiding-places, -and ghostly visitants to sleeping guests, rose -in succession before him. But this was something -more than an ordinary ghostly visitor. Grey saw -again the murderous gleam of cold steel over his -head—saw the claw-like hand in its faded russet sleeve, -the fierce downward sweep of the weapon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was my kinsman, and he sought to do me to -death—here in the haunted chamber, where perhaps -some infernal machinery exists whereby the corpse -could have been quickly and quietly removed and -heard of no more. Who would care save Dicon, and -what could a poor varlet like that do if the master -of Hartsbourne were to assert that his kinsman had -ridden off in the early hours of the morning, he knew -not whither? Did he drug the wine? Was this in -his head all the while? Or was the idea suggested -only by my refusal to place my neck in peril at the -wars? O Barty, Barty Dumaresq, a pretty villain -art thou! Before this I might perhaps have been -tempted to return to the Duke, and seek to win my -spurs at his side; but now—no. I will take the -safer, if the slower, path to fame and fortune, and I -will live to make you rue the day you sought to rid -yourself, by secret assassination, of the man in whose -shoes you hope some day to stand."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="on-the-road"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ON THE ROAD.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>With the first streak of midsummer dawn Grey -Dumaresq was in the paddock, looking well -to the condition of his horse, and grooming the soft, -satin coat lovingly with his own hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must be up and away, my beauty, ere the -sun be high. This is no place for either you or me, -albeit every foot of ground is mine own, and it will -go hard if I let that weasel-faced scoundrel filch it -altogether from me. I know him now in his true -colours. Heaven send the day may come when I -shall repay with interest that which I owe him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The horse tossed his head and neighed as though -in response; and perhaps Dicon heard the sound from -where he slept, for almost at once he was at his -master's side; and old Jock came cautiously out by -the doorway leading towards the house, and looked -relieved and gratified to see the young master abroad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh, but I have been sore troubled with bad -dreams this night," he said, as he shambled up. "Yon -house is full of such, I take it. How slept you, -my master? and how fare you this morn? It is -good to see you looking so spruce and sound. Bad -luck to the dreams that drove sleep from my pillow -at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had my dreams too, Jock, and I have not slept -since," answered Grey, with a significant glance at the -old man. "Tell me, good fellow, what know you of -the panelled guest-chamber, with the row of windows -looking south over the park? Ha! why look you -so, man? What know you of the chamber?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he put you there, my master? Then Peter -lied to me, the false-tongued knave. If I had known -that! No wonder the dreams were bad that came to -me. The haunted room! Tush! it is not ghosts -that hurt, but men who come and go at will and -leave no trace behind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so," spoke Grey composedly. "Then -there is a secret way of entrance into that room?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, behind the bed. I do not know the trick, -but I have heard of it. Men have been done to death -in that room ere this, and none the wiser for it. Oh -if I had but known!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey's eyes were fixed full upon the pallid face of -the old man. He put the next question gravely and -almost sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me truly, my friend. Think you that this -kinsman of mine would plot to do me hurt? He -made profession of friendship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He made the same to Sir Hugh," answered Jock in -a trembling voice, "and for long the master believed -in him. But methinks he never would have died as -he did, had he not come to live here with Mr. Barty -at Hartsbourne."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey started and changed colour, clinching his hand,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think that this kinsman of ours compassed -his death?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jock looked over his shoulder as though fearful of -listening ears. He drew a step nearer; and Dicon, -with fallen jaw and staring eyes, came up close to -listen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How can I tell? I was seldom in the house. I -work in the garden, and because I am a cheap servant, -asking no money, but making a pittance by what I -can sell, Mr. Barty has kept me here where he found -me. But when the old master came, he often sent -for me. Before he became too ill, he sometimes -crawled to my little cottage yonder for a bit of chat. -He told me the doctors and leeches told him he had -but to rest and live simply in the country for a few -years to be a sound man again. But for all that he -dwindled and dwindled away, and was gone in two -months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did no leech attend him here?" asked Grey -breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not till the very last, when they sent me to -Edgeware to fetch one who could do naught. Mr. Barty -professed to know many cures, and the master -believed in him. He eased his pain, but he sank into -an ever-increasing, ever-mastering drowsiness, and he -shrank away to skin and bone. It went to my heart -to see him. Many's the time when I have wondered -whether it would have ended so if he had not taken -Mr. Barty's simples and draughts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was he poisoned, then?" asked Grey, between -his shut teeth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jock looked nervously over his shoulder; the word -seemed to frighten him. He shook his old head from -side to side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay, how can I tell—a poor old ignorant -man like me? But he used to say that you would -likely never come home again (travellers met such -a deal of peril, he would say), and then his eyes -would gleam and glisten, for there was but the old -master's life and yours betwixt him and the title -and all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey ground his teeth, and his eyes flashed. -Somehow he did not doubt for a moment that foul play -had been used to compass his father's death. Had -he not escaped assassination himself that night only -by the skin of his teeth?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could any man living throw light upon this -matter?" he asked. "The leech from Edgeware, -or any other?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I misdoubt me if any could, save wall-eyed -Peter, Mr. Barty's man; and I trow his master makes -it worth while for him to hold his tongue and know -nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gold will sometimes unloose a miscreant's tongue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, maybe; but Mr. Barty's purse is longer -than yours, Sir Grey, and his mind is crookeder and -his ways more artful. Don't you go for to anger -him yet: hurt might come to you an you did. Get -you gone from the place, and that right soon; for -the sooner you leave Hartsbourne behind you, the -safer it will be for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, my master; let us indeed be gone," pleaded -Dicon earnestly. "This is a God-forsaken hole, not -fit for you to dwell in. Take the store of gold pieces, -and let us begone, for I trow that harm will come to -you if you linger longer here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It took little to persuade Grey to be off and away. -Old Jock provided them with a meal, and they could -break their fast at the old inn at Edgeware, through -which they would pass. He had no desire to go -through the farce of a farewell to his kinsman. He -only desired to shake off the dust of his feet against -him; and ere the chimes of the church rang out the -hour of six, Grey was turning on the crest of a ridge -of rising ground, to look his last for the nonce upon -the old home he had dreamed of so many a time, and -round which so many loving thoughts centred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let kind Fortune but smile upon me, Dicon, and -show me the way to affluence and fame, and I will -yet be lord and master there, and the manor of -Hartsbourne shall be one of the fairest in the land!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, so you shall, Sir Grey, and that right -speedily!" cried honest Dick, who had an unbounded -admiration for his young master, and an immense -confidence in his luck, albeit no special good fortune -had befallen him since he had taken service with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick had led a seafaring life during his earlier -years, and Grey had picked him up in a shipwrecked, -ragged, and starving condition on the coast of Spain -some two years previously. In those days -ship-wrecked sailors often had a hard time of it, even -though the terrors of the galleys or the Inquisition -did not loom quite so perilously before them as had -been the case a century before. To find himself taken -into the service of a young English gentleman of -quality, and to be the companion of his travels, had -been a piece of luck that Dick thanked Providence -for every day of his life. He had been one of four -servants at the outset; but as Grey's resources diminished, -or his roving life took him into perils for which -some men had little stomach, he gradually lost his -retinue, till, for the past year, Dick alone had -followed him, and the two had become friends and -comrades, as well as master and servant. Now at their -first halting-place, where they paused to let the horses -breathe after a steady half-hour's gallop, Grey opened -the wallet at his side, which he had filled with gold -pieces from the casket (the rest he had sewn carefully -into his clothes for safety), and counted out a certain -number, which he shook in his fist as he spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dicon, I am going to London to try my luck -there. But, as I have ofttimes heard, fortunes are -as easily lost there as won, wherefore it may be that -I shall become a beggar instead of growing in wealth -and greatness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heaven forbid!" ejaculated Dick in passionate -protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Heaven watches over the undeserving as -well as the virtuous, so there is e'en hope for me," -answered Grey with his winning smile. "But look -ye here, Dicon. You have been a faithful rogue, and -have served me well, and I hope we may company -together many a long day yet. But inasmuch as -there are uncertainties in life, and we are going forth -into a new world, where perchance I may sink rather -than swim, I desire to give you six months' wage in -advance, whilst I have my pockets lined with gold, -so that should any untoward chance befall me, as it -has befallen better men than myself, I shall not have -to turn you adrift unrewarded, nor will you, if you -can be a wise varlet, and husband your resources, be -thrown on the world without some means of support."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick seemed about to protest, but either the look -on his master's face or some idea which had entered -his own head held him silent. He took the coins -without counting them, and producing a greasy -leathern pouch, such as sailors often carry with them, -he dropped the gold pieces into it one by one, tied it -up, and fastened it safely in an inner pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That pouch stuck by me when I lost everything -else in the world, and well-nigh my own life," said -the fellow with a grin. "My mother did give it me -when I first went to sea, and she told me as a wise -witch woman had given it her. She thought 'twas -the caul of a child; and like enough it be, for salt -water never hurts it, and I was the only one saved -of all the crew that went down off the Spanish coast. -I'd sooner part with the gold pieces than with the -pouch that holds them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They both rode on with thoughtful faces after this -brief interlude. Grey was turning over a dozen -different schemes in his mind; but all were vague -and chimerical. Now and again he looked at an -amethyst ring upon his finger, and it came over him -that the shortest cut to fortune might be to present -himself as a suppliant for favour at the feet of the -great Duchess of Marlborough, who was said to rule -the Queen with a rod of iron, and whose known -devotion to her husband would be certain to raise -high in her favour any person who had rendered him -so timely a service as that which Grey had been able -to offer on the day of Ramillies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But then, again, it seemed to Grey that to claim -reward for that chance service, which had cost him -nothing, was little better than playing the beggar or -the sycophant. There was in his nature a strong -strain of chivalrous romance—of love of adventure -for its own sake, without thought of reward or -favour. That encounter with the great Duke, the -interview which had followed, the consciousness that -he had done his country a notable service that day—all -these things were very sweet to him, forming an -episode pleasant to look back upon. If he now -presented himself on the strength of it as a petitioner -for place or favour, at once the whole thing would -be vulgarized—he would be lowered in his own -estimation, sinking to the level of one of the crowd -of greedy flatterers and place-hunters who thronged -the antechambers of the rich and great, and fawned -upon them for the crumbs of patronage which they -were able to dispense as the price of this homage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had seen this sort of thing at foreign courts, -and his soul had sickened at it. Doubtless, in this -great world of London it was the same. As a -baronet, a young man of parts, with an attractive -person, and, at present, a well-filled purse, he might -not improbably please the fancy of the Duchess, and -obtain some post in her household or about the Court -that would give him a chance at least to rise. But -the more he thought of this the less he liked the idea, -and at last he flung it from him in scorn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would sooner live in Grub Street, and drive -a quill!" he said half aloud. "I could praise a -hero with my pen, but I cannot fawn and flatter -with my lips. And methinks I am not fit for the -life of a place-man: I have been too long mine own -master. Surely there are ways by which a man may -rise in the world without abasing himself in his own -esteem first. I will go to London, and look about -me with open eyes. There are the world of politics, -the world of art and literature, and the theatre of -war, if other spheres should fail. Surely there must -be a place for me somewhere; but I will not choose -the latter if I can help it. I fear not death on mine -own account; but I desire to live, and to grow rich, -that I may square matters with yonder villain, and -avenge upon him my father's untimely death!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For that his father had been in some sort done -to death by his false kinsman, Grey did not now -doubt, though whether he would be able to bring -that crime home to him later, he could not at present -surmise. Much might be possible to a man with -friends in high places; but these would have to be -found and won ere any step could be taken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey often felt within himself the stirrings of -ambition. He had shown promise of something akin to -genius in his Oxford days, and there had not been -lacking those among his companions and tutors who -had declared that he could win fame and fortune -through academic laurels. But Grey had then turned -a deaf ear to such propositions. He desired to travel -and see the world, and he had done this with much -zest. But the muse within had not been altogether -silent, and he had many times covered sheets of paper -with flowing stanzas or stately sonnets, which bore -witness to the fire that burned within. His pencil, -too, was not without cunning; and his study of the -treasures of many an art gallery, many a foreign -church, had given him knowledge and culture beyond -what the average gallant of the day could boast. The -double strand in his nature was very marked—a -reckless love of adventure, and a delicate appreciation of -the beautiful. Often he longed after the days of the -early troubadours, when the two walked hand in -hand. He pondered these matters in his busy brain -as he rode onward in the sunny brightness of the -June morning, and found it in his heart to wish that -he was not thus possessed by such conflicting passions. -He felt he would have had a better chance of success -had his bent in any one direction been more decided.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They pulled up at the quaint old inn at Edgeware, -and rode into the courtyard, where lackeys and -hostlers were making merry together, and where -some handsome horses were being groomed down, -prior to being put into the cumbersome but very -handsome coach that stood beneath the protecting -galleries which ran round the court. The lackeys -wore a livery of snuff-coloured cloth, with a quantity -of gold lace about it. The panels of the coach were -snuff-coloured, and there was much heavy gilding -about it, which was being polished with great zeal by -the servants of the inn. It was plainly the equipage -of some person of quality, and had evidently put up -there for the night, but was likely to be wanted -shortly for the road again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey dismounted, and leaving Dick in charge of -the horses, made his way in through the low-browed -entrance, along a sanded passage, and so to the public -room, the door of which stood open. As a boy he -had known this house, and it still seemed familiar to -him, though it had changed hands since he had been -there last, and his face was not known to mine host.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your pardon, sir," spoke this functionary, bustling -forward on his entrance, "but this room is bespoke -for my Lord Sandford. If you are wanting a meal, -it shall be quickly served elsewhere—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at that moment a rollicking voice from the -foot of the adjacent staircase broke in upon the -excuses of the host.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gadzooks, man, but it shall be nothing of the -sort. Set a cover for the gentleman at my table. -Gosh! is a man so enamoured of his own company -that he must needs drive all the world away?—Come -in, sir, come in, and take pot-luck with me.—Landlord, -see you give us of your best, or I'll spit you on -your own jack! I've a great thirst on me, mind you; -and let the dishes be done to a turn.—Take a seat in -the window, sir; the air blows fresh and pleasant, -but it will be infernally hot ere noon. I must be off -and away in good time. In London streets you can -find shade; but these country roads—hang them -all!—get like What's-his-name's fiery furnace seven -times heated if they don't chance to run through -forest land!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The speaker was a young man of perhaps seven-and-twenty, -though reckless dissipation had traced -lines in his face which should not so early have been -there. He was dressed according to the most -extravagant fashion of the day, with an immense curled -wig, that hung half-way down his back; a coat of -velvet, richly laced, the sleeves so short that the -spotless lawn and ruffles of the shirt showed -half-way up the forearm; a wonderful embroidered vest, -knee breeches of satin equally gorgeous, and silk -stockings elaborately gartered below the knee with bands -of gold lace. He carried a fashionably cocked hat -beneath his arm, with a gold-headed cane; and a -small muff was suspended from his neck by gold -chains. The muff held a golden snuff-box, with a -picture on the lid which modesty would refuse to -describe; and the young spark took snuff and -interlarded his talk with the fashionable oaths of the day -as a matter of course.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked curiously at Grey when they had taken -their seats; for the traveller, though dressed with -exceeding simplicity, and wearing his own hair in loose, -natural curls, just framing his face and touching his -shoulders, was so evidently a man of culture and of -gentle blood that the dandy was both impressed -and perplexed by him. For high-bred look and -instinctive nobility of bearing Lord Sandford could -not hold a candle to Grey Dumaresq.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw you ride into the yard just now. Fine -horse that of yours, sir—very fine horse! If he's -ever for sale, mind you let me know of him. Lord -Sandford—your very humble servant—always to be -heard of at Will's Coffee House or the Mohawk Club. -Seem to remember your face; but dash me if I can -give it a name. Awful memory for names I have—know -too many fellows, I suppose. Not that there -are so many like you, either; but hang me, I must -have met you somewhere before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had caught the fleeting memory, and answered -at once,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We were at Oxford together, my lord. Not at -the same college, though; but we have met, doubtless. -My name is Grey Dumaresq—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, to be sure. Gad! but that's strange! -Thought I wasn't wrong about a face! I heard you -spout forth a poem once. Lord, it was fine, though -I didn't understand one word in ten! Latin or -Greek—rabbit me if I know which! And I knew your -father, too; met him in London now and again. He's -not been seen anywhere these eight or nine months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My father died last Christmas," spoke Grey -gravely. "I did not know it myself, being abroad." And -led on by Lord Sandford's questions, which, if -not very delicately put, showed a real interest in the -subject, Grey gave him a bare outline of his own life -since quitting Oxford, and of the position in which -he now found himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oddsfish, man—as our merry monarch of happy -memory used to say—but yours is a curious tale. -The ladies will rave over the romance of it—coupled -with that face of yours. Oh, never say die, man! -You've the world before you. What more do you -ask than such a face, such a story, and a few hundred -pounds in your pocket? Why, with decent luck, -those hundreds ought to make thousands in a very -short time. You trust yourself to me, my young -friend. I know my London. I know the ropes. I -will show you how fortunes are made in a night; -and you shall be the pet of the ladies and the envy -of the beaux before another month has passed. We -will find you an heiress for a wife, and—heigh, -presto!—the thing is done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey started, and made a gesture as of repulsion, -whereat Lord Sandford roared with laughter; and -there was something so heartwhole and infectious in -his laugh that Grey found himself joining in almost -without knowing it. The man had a strong personality, -that was not to be doubted, and at this moment -Grey felt himself singularly lonely, singularly -perplexed about his own immediate future. He did not -know London. He had scarcely set foot within its -precincts, save on the occasion when he went to bid his -father farewell, and when it seemed to him that he -stepped into Pandemonium itself. Since then he had -visited many foreign capitals, and had accustomed -himself to the life there to some extent; but only to -the life of a traveller—an onlooker. Now he felt -that something more lay before him—that it was as a -citizen and a unit in the great hive that he must go. -And how to steer his bark through the shoals and -quicksands of the new life, he had very small idea. -To win fame and fortune was his wish; but how -were these good things to be achieved? Never had it -entered his head to look upon marriage as a way of -gaining either.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Zounds, man, don't look like that! Better men -than you or I have not been shamed to thank their -wives for their promotion. But there are more ways -of killing a cat than hanging. We'll look about and -see. You put yourself in my hands, and I'll show -you the ropes. No, no; no thanks. I want some -diversion myself. Poor Tom Gregory, my boon -companion, made a fool of himself over the wine the -other night, and got spitted like a cockchafer by -Captain Dashwood. I've felt bad ever since. I tried -what a trip into the country would do for me. But -dash it all, I can't stand the dreariness of it. I am -on my way back to town as fast as may be. And -you shall come with me. Nay, I'll take no denial. A -man must have something to do with his time, or he'll -get into a pretty peck of mischief. I've taken a -liking to you; and I always get my own way, -because I won't listen to objections."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So an hour later, when the coach rumbled out from -under the archway of the old inn, Grey Dumaresq -sat within by Lord Sandford's side, and Dick, with -a puzzled but satisfied face, led his master's horse -behind.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-high-born-dame"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A HIGH-BORN DAME.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Westward from Whitehall, just after one -had left behind the streets and lanes of -the fashionable westerly portion of London town, -and emerged into a fair region of smiling meadows, -blossoming fruit-trees, orchards, and woodlands, were -in those days to be found many pleasant and stately -houses, varying in size and splendour according -to the condition of the owner, but fair mansions -for the most part, and inhabited by persons of -quality, many of whom held posts at Court, and -found this proximity to Whitehall a matter of no -small convenience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some of the fairest and seemliest of these -mansions were those which lay along the river banks, -with gardens terraced to the water's edge, where -light wherries could deposit gay gallants at the foot -of the steps leading to the wide gravelled walks, -and where a gay panorama of shipping could be seen -by those who paced the shady walks, or sat in the -little temples and bowers which made a feature of so -many of these gardens.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was one house in particular that in these -days had a notoriety of its own. It had been an old -manor house in the time when London had not -extended so far to the west, and it lay embosomed in a -quaint old garden, where fair and tall trees made a -pleasant shade through the hot summer days, where -the turf was emerald green and soft to the foot, and -roses flourished in wild abundance. Now there was -a formal Dutch garden set in the midst of the -old-time wilderness, where clipped box edges divided the -parterres of brilliant-hued blossoms sent from -Holland, and where nymphs disported themselves around -marble fountains, and heathen divinities on pedestals -kept watch and ward over the long terraces which -lined the margin of the river. But in spite of these -innovations of modern taste, the silvan charm of the -old garden had by no means been destroyed, and -there were many who declared that not even -Hampton Court itself could hold a candle to Lord -Romaine's riverside garden for beauty and brightness -and the nameless fascination which defies analysis. -Lord Romaine was accounted a rising man. The -friend of Marlborough and Godolphin, a moderate -Whig in politics, a courtier above all else, and loyal -to the backbone, he had been regarded with favour -by the late King, who had given him some appointment -about the Court, which had been confirmed by -the Queen on her accession. And although Queen -Anne was herself of such strong Tory leanings, she -was beginning to find that the moderate Whigs were -the men most useful and most to be depended upon; -and the shrewd Duchess Sarah—her dear -"Mrs. Freeman"—herself a convert from high Tory -principles to those of their moderate opponents, was using -her influence steadily and strongly to bring the Queen -round to the same state of mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Lord Romaine's star was likely to rise with the -rising tide of Whig supremacy; and as he was a man -of very large private means, and kept open house in -a lavish fashion, it was likely enough that he would -make his mark in the world. It would be certainly -no fault of his wife if he did not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Truth to tell, Lady Romaine's head had been -somewhat turned when, three years before, her husband -succeeded to his father's title and estates, and from -being Viscount Latimer, with moderate means and -only a measure of Court favour to depend upon, -became an earl with a very large rent-roll, and a -great fortune in ready money, which his father, who -lived a secluded existence in the country, had amassed -during the later years of his life. As Lord and -Lady Latimer this couple had lived at the riverside -house they still occupied when in town; but it had -not then worn the aspect that it did to-day, albeit -the garden had been something of a hobby to its -owner for many years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lady cared little for the garden, save for the -admiration it aroused in others; but she longed with a -mighty longing to furbish up the old house after her -own design, and as soon as the funds for this were in -their hands, not a moment was lost in the carrying -out of her cherished plans and projects. With a -rapidity that astonished the town, a great new front -was added to the old building, converting it into a -quadrangle, in the centre of which a great fountain -threw its waters high into the air. All the new -rooms were large, stately, and imposing, and -furnished according to the latest mode. Inlaid cabinets -from the far East, crammed with curios of which my -lady knew not even the names; crooked-legged chairs -and sofas of French make; furniture in the new -mahogany wood, just beginning to attract attention -and admiration; rich carpets and hangings from -India, Persia, or China; embroideries from all -quarters of the globe; Italian pottery, Spanish -inlaid armour, silver trinkets from Mexico, feather -work from the isles of the west—all these things, -jostled and jumbled together in rich confusion, made -Lady Romaine's new house the talk of the town; and -her tall powdered lackeys and turbaned negro pages -were more numerous and more sumptuously attired -than those of any other fashionable dame of her -acquaintance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My lady was at her toilet upon this brilliant June -morning; and as custom permitted the attendance of -gentlemen at this function, in the case of married -ladies, the hall and staircase leading up to her suite -of private apartments were already thronged by a -motley crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were dandies, fresh from their own elaborate -toilets, reeking of the perfume in which they had -bathed themselves, displaying in their own persons -all the hues of the rainbow, and all the extravagant -fripperies of the day, laughing and jesting -together as they mounted the softly-carpeted stairs, -their cocked hats under their arms, or descended -again after having paid their </span><em class="italics">devoirs</em><span> to my lady, -often cackling with mirth over some </span><em class="italics">bon mot</em><span> they -had heard or uttered. There were chattering French -milliners or French hair-dressers, with boxes or -bundles of laces, silks, perfumes, or trinkets, -wherewith to tempt the fancy of their patroness. There -were gaily-dressed pages running to and fro with -scented notes; turbaned negro boys carrying a -lap-dog or monkey or parrot to the doting -mistress, who had suddenly sent for one of her pets. -Tire-women pushed themselves through the throng, -intent on the business of the toilet, which was such -an all-absorbing matter; and the whole house seemed -to ring with the loud or shrill laughter and the -ceaseless chatter of this motley throng, bent on killing -time in the most approved fashion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some of the dandies about to depart, who were -sipping chocolate from cups of priceless Sèvres china, -and talking in their free, loose fashion with each -other, kept looking about them as though in hope or -expectation, and more than once the name of "Lady -Geraldine" was bandied about between them. One -young blood asked point blank why she was never to -be seen at her mother's toilet. A laugh broke from -his companions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If it's Lady Geraldine you come to see, you can -save yourself the trouble of the visit. They say she -was brought up by a Puritan grandmother, who died -last year, and left her all her fortune. However -that may be, the Lady Geraldine never appears when -she can escape doing so. My lady gives way to her. -They say she does not care to have a grown-up -daughter at her heels, she who might pass for -four-and-twenty herself any day, but for that damning -evidence. But they say the father is beginning to -declare that his daughter is no longer to be kept in -the background. I suppose the next thing will be -that they will marry her to some young nobleman. -Gadzooks! with that face and that fortune—if the -fortune be not a clever myth—they ought not to find -it a difficult task!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard it said at the club that Sandford was -the favoured suitor for the hand of Lady Geraldine," -said one young exquisite, speaking with a lisp and -taking snuff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a laugh from the group of men standing by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Sandford is my lady's favourite! They say -he is a kinsman; and he amuses her vastly, and -gives her all the homage her heart desires. But -Lord Romaine may have something to say to that. -Sandford is going the pace that kills, and is playing -old Harry with his fortune and estate. And as for -my Lady Geraldine—well, 'tis said the pretty little -Puritan will look at none of us. Split me! but it -will be a pretty comedy to watch! The awakening -of Aphrodite; isn't that the thing to call it? But -Aphrodite is not generally credited with much -coyness—ha, ha, ha! Perhaps it is but a pose on the -part of the pretty maid. The sweet creatures are so -artful in these days, one can never be too cautious." And -a roar of laughter answered this sally, caution -being about the last quality ever cultivated by the -speaker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst all this was going on within doors, the -object of these latter remarks was enjoying a silvan -solitude in the most secluded portion of the beautiful -old garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Far away from the house, far out of earshot of all -the fashionable clamour resounding there, set in the -midst of a dense shrubbery of ilex and yew, was an -arbour—itself cut out of a giant yew-tree—commanding -a view of a portion of the river, slipping by its -alder-crowned banks, and overlooking a small, square -lawn, sunk between high turf walls, in the centre of -which stood an ancient moss-grown sundial, whose -quaintly-lettered face was a source of unending -interest to the fair girl, who had made of this remote -and sheltered place a harbour of refuge for herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was seated now just within the arbour, an open -book of poetry upon her knee; but she was not -reading, for her chin rested in the palm of her hand, as -she leaned forward in an unstudied attitude of grace, -her elbow on her knee, her wonderful dark eyes fixed -full upon the shining river, a dreamy smile of -haunting sweetness playing round her lips. At her feet a -great hound lay extended, his nose upon his paws, -his eyes often lifted to the face of his mistress, his -ears pricked at the smallest sound, even at the -snapping of a twig. Nobody could surprise the Lady -Geraldine when she had this faithful henchman at -her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl was dressed with extreme simplicity for -the times she lived in, when hoops were coming in, -stiff brocades, laces and lappets, high-heeled coloured -shoes, and every extravagance in finery all the rage. -True, the texture of her white silk gown was of the -richest, and it was laced with silver, and fastened -with pearl clasps that must have cost a great sum; -but it was fashioned with a simplicity that suggested -the rustic maiden rather than the high-born dame. -Yet the simple elegance of the graceful, girlish -figure was displayed to such advantage that even the -modish mother had been able to find no fault with -the fashion in which her daughter instructed that her -gowns should be cut; and surmises and bets were -freely exchanged by the gallants crowding Lord -Romaine's house as to whether it were a deep form -of coquetry or real simplicity of taste which made -the Lady Geraldine differ so much from the matrons -and maids about her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She wore no patches upon her face, though the -dazzling purity of her complexion would thereby -have been enhanced. And in days when the hair -was dressed into tower-like erections, and adorned -with powder, laces, ribbons, and all manner of strange -fripperies, this girl wore her beautiful waving golden -tresses floating round her face in the fashion of the -ladies of Charles the Second's reign, or coiled them -with careless grace about her head in a natural -coronet. With powder or pomatum, wires or artificial -additions, she would have nothing to do. She had -been brought up in the country by her grandmother, -a lady of very simple tastes, who would in no wise -conform to the extravagant fashions which had crept -in, and were corrupting all the old-time grace and -simplicity of female attire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave those fripperies to the gallants," had been -the old lady's pungent remark; "what do we want -with powder and periwigs, patches and pomatum?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She remembered the simple elegance of the -court-dresses of the ladies in the Stuart times, and -had no patience with the artificial trappings that -followed. Moreover, albeit not a Puritan in any -strict sense of the word—being a loyal advocate of -the Stuart cause—she was a woman of great piety -and devotion, and studied her Bible diligently; so -that she took small pleasure in the adornment of -the person in gaudy clothing, and the broidering of -the hair, and in fine array. She taught her -granddaughter to think more of the virtue of the meek -and quiet spirit, and to seek rather to cultivate her -mind, and store it with information and with lofty -aspirations, than to give her time and thoughts to -the round of folly and dissipation which made up -the life of the lady of fashion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine was so happy in the care of her grandmother, -and felt so little at home with her fashionable -mother, that her visits had been few and far between -hitherto, until the sudden death of Mrs. Adair six -months previously had obliged her to return -permanently to her father's roof.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here she found a state of things which amazed -and troubled her not a little, and greatly did she -marvel how her mother could be the daughter of -the guardian of her childhood. True, Lady Romaine -had married very young, and early escaped from the -watchful care of her judicious mother; but it seemed -marvellous that so close a tie could have existed -between them, and the girl would look on with -amaze and pain at her mother's freaks and follies, -wondering how any woman could find entertainment -in the idle, foolish, and often profane vapourings of -the beaux who fluttered about her, and how any -sane persons could endure such a life of trivial -amusement and ceaseless meaningless dissipation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext" id="id3"><span>Pleading with her father her grief at her grandmother's -death, she had obtained a six months' respite -from attendance at the gay functions which made up -life to Lady Romaine. Those six months had been -spent, for the most part, in the privacy of her own -apartments, which she had furnished with the dim -and time-honoured treasures of her grandmother's -house, all of which were now her own, and which -made her quarters in the old part of the house like -an oasis of taste, and harmony, and true beauty in an -ocean of confused and almost tawdry profusion. The -old garden was another favourite haunt of hers, for -there were portions of it which were seldom invaded -by the gay butterflies who often hovered about the -newer terraces and the formal Dutch garden, and the -hound always gave her ample warning of any -approaching footstep, so that she could fly and hide -herself before any one could molest her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So here she prosecuted her studies, read her -favourite authors, and when the house was quiet—her -mother having flown off to some gay rout or card-party -or ball—she would practise her skill on the lute, -virginal, spinet, or harp, and her fresh young voice -would resound through the house, drawing the -servants to the open windows to hear the sweet strains.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Romaine would have humoured the girl's -fancy for seclusion indefinitely. She felt almost -humiliated by the presence of a daughter so stately -and so mature. Geraldine was nineteen, but might -have passed for more, with her grave, refined beauty, -and her lack of all the kittenish freakishness which -made many matrons seem almost like girls, even when -their charms began to fade, and nature had to be -replaced by art. Lady Romaine fondly believed that -her admirers took her for four-and-twenty; and now -to have to pose as the mother of a grown-up daughter -was a bitter mortification, and one which disposed her -to make as speedy a marriage for Geraldine as could -well be achieved. Lord Romaine had at last insisted -that his daughter should appear in the world of -fashion, and she had been once or twice to Court in -her parents' train, where her striking beauty and -unwonted appearance had made some sensation. -Geraldine had little fault to find with what she saw and -heard there. Good Queen Anne permitted nothing -reprehensible in her neighbourhood, and her Court -was grave to the verge of dullness. She was a -loving and a model wife; and the Duchess was -devoted to her husband, though often making his -life a burden by her imperious temper. Anything -like conjugal infidelity was not tolerated therefore -by either of these ladies, and decorum ruled wherever -the Queen was to be found.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at other places and in other company matters -were far different, and already Geraldine began to -shrink with a great disgust and distaste from the -compliments she received, from the coarse, foolish, -affected talk she heard, and from the knowledge of -the senseless dissipation which flowed like a stream -at her feet, and which seemed to encircle the span -of her life in a way that made escape impossible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she had been taught obedience as one of the -cardinal virtues, and the days of emancipated daughters -were not yet. When her father bade her lay aside -her mourning and join in the life of the house, she -knew she must obey. But she had asked from him -the favour of being permitted to design her own -dresses, and to follow her own tastes in matters -pertaining to her own toilet, and also that she might be -excused attendance at her mother's morning levee; -for the spectacle of crowds of men flocking in and -out of her mother's apartments, and witnessing the -triumphs of the coiffeurs and tire-women, was to her -degrading and disgusting; and though Lord Romaine -laughed—being himself so inured to the custom—and -told her she was a little fool, and must get the -better of her prudery, he gave way to her in this, -and the more readily because she represented to him -how that these morning hours were now the only -ones she could command for study; and he was -proud to find in his daughter an erudition and talent -very rare amongst women in those days.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 59%" id="figure-38"> -<span id="the-old-garden-was-another-favourite-haunt-of-hers"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The old garden was another favourite haunt of hers (page 96)." src="images/img-098.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The old garden was another favourite haunt of hers (page </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id3">96</a><span class="italics">).</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now an approaching footstep warned the girl -that her pleasant morning was over. The dog sprang -up, but did not growl. It was Geraldine's own -serving-woman approaching with the girl's -white-plumed hat and long silver-laced gloves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My lady's coach waits, and she desires your -presence," was the message that reached her. -Geraldine sat down to let the woman fasten the hat -upon her head, and with a sigh she put away her -books in their basket, and gave it to the charge of -the faithful hound. She had found that her treasures -were far more carefully safeguarded by him than -when left in the care of a giddy maid, who was more -bent on having the same kind of amusement with the -men-servants that her mistress had with the gallants -than of seeking to discharge her duties faithfully -and well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hasten, child, hasten!" cried Lady Romaine's -shrill voice from the entrance-hall, as Geraldine -approached. She was a wonderful object as she -stood there in the full light of the June sunshine, -her stiff amber brocade sweeping round her in great -billows, her waist laced in like that of a wasp, and -accentuated by the style of the long-pointed bodice; -her high-heeled shoes, ornamented to extravagance, -the heels being bright red and the uppers sewed with -precious stones; gems glittering in the mass of laces -at her throat, and in a number of clasps fastened to -the bodice; her hair towering upwards to such a -height that she could scarce sit comfortably in her -lofty coach, and could wear nothing in the way of -head-gear save the laces and ribbons which were -worked in with much skill by the French hair-dresser. -She was redolent of perfume; gloves, lace -handkerchief, dainty muff, every little knickknack, of -which she possessed so many, all emitted the same -cloying sweetness. Geraldine felt herself heave a -sigh of oppression as she followed this grotesque -object into the coach. She was growing used to the -aspect presented by the dames of fashion, but there -were moments when her first disgust came over her -in great waves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I marvel that you like to make yourself such -a figure of fun, child," remarked the mother, as she -settled herself in her coach, smirked towards the -piece of looking-glass let in opposite, and turned -a sidelong glance upon her daughter; "'tis enough -to set the gallants laughing to see how you habit -yourself. Well, well; you are a lucky girl to have -found a suitor so soon. Now take good heed to -show him no saucy airs, should he present himself -at our box at the play to-day. He has been away -these last days, but he can never long absent himself -from town. Mind you have a smile for him when -he appears, or I shall have somewhat to say to you -later, Miss Impertinence." And the lady's ivory fan -came down somewhat smartly upon Geraldine's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of whom are you speaking, ma'am?" she asked, -whilst the colour mounted suddenly in her fair face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, come now; so we are already posing as a -belle of many beaux! Pray who has ever cast a -glance upon you save my good kinsman Sandford? -And, mind you, he is a man of taste and fashion, -and it is a great compliment that he has singled -you out for notice. There be girls would give -their ears for a kind glance from his eyes, and there -are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it; -so mind your manners, miss, and treat him to no -tricks. It is high time you were wed, and had a -husband to look after you, and that is why I take -you about. For, as for pleasure in such company, -one might as well play bear-leader to a snow queen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not know that Lord Sandford had done me -any favour," spoke Geraldine quietly. "I have seen -him but seldom, and he has spoke not over much to -me. But I will bear your wishes in mind, madam, -should he appear to-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha! there he is!" suddenly cried my lady, -becoming excited, and rapping smartly with her fan -on the glass of the window. The next minute the -coach had pulled up, and Lord Sandford, attired in -the very height of the fashion, was bowing over her -hand with his courtliest air.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-pastimes-of-the-town"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE PASTIMES OF THE TOWN.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"The sun shines once again," quoth Lord -Sandford, as he raised the extended hand -of Lady Romaine to his lips, and dropped a light -kiss upon her scented glove. "The sun shines in -the sky; but let him beware and look to his laurels, -for there are stars abroad of such dazzling lustre -that Phoebus must have a care lest the brightness -of his shafts be quenched in a more refulgent glow." And -the young man gazed into the lady's eyes with -a bold laughing stare that pointed the meaning of -the compliment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"La! but you talk the greatest nonsense!" cried -Lady Romaine, highly delighted, as she tapped him -smartly with her fan. "Come, tell me where you -have been these many days. Some said you had -been a-wooing in the country, and others that your -dolts of tradesmen were dunning you to distraction, -and others that you had fought a duel and had need -to fly; but, pardieu! if one believed all the gossip of -the town, one would have enough to do. I know -there has been a duel, and I am aching to hear all -about it. I'll warrant you know all the story, since -he was your friend. Come, get into the coach, and -tell me all about it. Were you there? What was -it all about? And what sort of an end did he make?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Romaine's face expressed the eager pleasure -and curiosity of a child talking over some trivial -pleasure; she flirted her fan, cast languishing glances, -and played off upon the young Earl all those countless -little airs and graces which characterized the fine -lady of the period.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Geraldine drew back in her corner, her face -growing cold and pale. She had scarcely -acknowledged Lord Sandford's presence, only just bending -her head in response to his bow. He had not -addressed her as yet, and he appeared engrossed by -the mother; but he flashed one quick glance upon -her now, and possibly read something of the pain -and disgust which possessed her, for he answered,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, madam, let us not talk of what is past -and done. How can thought of gloom and death -dwell in so radiant a presence? In sooth, all dark -thoughts take to themselves wings in this company, -and will not be caught or caged. I forget that we -are not in the bowers of Arcadia; for, in sooth, I am -transported thither so soon as these poor eyes be -dazzled by the light of those twin stars of love and -beauty!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Lady Romaine tapped him with her fan. -She loved a compliment, however fulsome; but she -wanted at this moment to be entertained by the -account of the duel, which had made a little stir -in the town, from the fact of one of the combatants -having been the boon companion and friend of Lord -Sandford.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You dear, tormenting devil! But I will have -the story yet! And we are all dying to know how -you will get on without your Fidus Achates. By my -troth, you do not look as though you had wasted -away in fruitless longing. Perchance you have found -already another to fill his place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I have, madam," was the negligent reply. -"I had not known the town had so much thought -to spare for worthless me. I' faith, I am a bigger -man than I thought for. But I must not keep your -coach standing in this blaze of sunshine. Whither -are you bound, fair ladies? To some Arcadian bowers -of Paphos, I doubt not, where Orpheus will charm -you with his lyre, and nymphs will cluster round -in envy, marvelling at those charms which not even -Aphrodite herself can rival."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh fie! you are a sad flatterer!" cried Lady -Romaine, sinking back upon her cushions and waving -her hand. "We are bound to Lady Saltire's hazard -table for an hour's play. Shall we meet you there, -my lord? Afterwards, we take supper at our -favourite India house, and then to the -play—Wynstanly's water theatre. He has a new -piece—monstrous fine, those who have seen it vow. They -have nymphs, and mermaids, and tritons, and I know -not what beside; and they ask a pretty price for the -boxes, I can tell you. But la! one must go and see -what all the world is talking of. Mind you come -to our box if you be there. We shall expect you, -and shall welcome you and any friend you like to -bring."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Even the new Fidus Achates, of whom you spoke -just now?" asked Lord Sandford, with a slightly -ironical bow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh gracious, yes!" cried Lady Romaine, excited -by the very idea; "bring him at once and present -him to us. I hope he is a pretty fellow, and can -turn a merry quip and tell a story. You should -have heard Beau Sidney last night! Sakes! I -thought I should have split my sides!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this juncture the horses became so fidgety with -standing in the glare of the sun that Lord Sandford -stepped back, and the coach rolled upon its way. -Lady Romaine waved her scented kerchief, and then -routed her scent-bottle out of her reticule, and -turning sharply upon her daughter, said,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why sit you ever like a stuffed owl, without so -much as a word or a smile? I die for shame every -time I take you out. What have I done to be -punished with such a daughter? One would think you -to be a changeling child, if you did not so favour -the Adairs. How think you you will ever get wed, -sitting gaping there like a farm-house wench, who -is afraid to open her lips lest she should betray -herself by her speech. You put me to shame, child; I -could cry with mortification. What will the world -say, save that I have an idiot for a daughter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine knew not what to answer. As she -listened to the fatuous and stilted talk which was -fashionable in her mother's world, with its senseless -mythological allusions and high-flown extravagances, it -often seemed to her that these gay dandies and dames -were all playing at madmen together. Her tongue -had never learned the trick of such talk. It -perplexed and disgusted her, seeming trivial and childish -when it was not improper or profane. She saw other -young girls who listened eagerly, and as eagerly -reproduced the flowery nonsense amongst themselves -and their admirers; but it seemed impossible to her -to do the like, and she listened in humble silence to -her mother's tirades, wondering whether there were -something radically wrong about herself, or whether -the absurdity and folly were in others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, madam," she said gently at the last, "why -should I get me a husband so soon? My grandmother -was against very early marriages, and as she lay -dying she often warned me to make very careful -choice ere I gave my hand in troth-plight. She -said I must needs be certain of mine own heart, -for that no more wretched life could exist for woman -than when she was tied to a man she could not love -or respect."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tush, child! Your grandmother was a good -woman. I speak no hurt of her. But she knew less -of life than many a girl of eighteen does nowadays, -and her ideas were all topsy-turvy. A woman wants -a fine establishment, her powdered footmen, her negro -boys, her dresses, her jewels, and all the world doing -her homage. That is what makes the pleasure of life. -A good husband who can give you all that is what you -want; and what can you ask better than the addresses -of Lord Sandford? I tell you there are half the girls -in town would give their ears for his smiles. He has -been extravagant, 'tis true; but the estate can stand -a heavy drain, and he is lucky at cards. He soon -finds himself on his legs again. When he marries -he will open his great house in the Strand, of which -he uses but one wing now. With your fortune and -his estates and his luck in gaming, you might be the -gayest couple in town. Look to it, girl, that you -show him no airs. I am ashamed to have such a -mannerless wench for a daughter. If you are not -more careful, you will drive all the beaux away; and -then, when it is too late, you will be sorry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine had her own ideas on that point. It -was her one desire just now to keep at arm's length -all those gay popinjays that fluttered about her -mother. Lord Sandford, it is true, was somewhat -removed from the crowd by a handsomer person, a -more distinguished air, and by a greater force of -character. On more than one occasion, when he had -put himself about to gain her ear, she had found that -he could drop his mask of gay affectations, and be -both shrewd and entertaining. Some of his criticisms -had even interested and aroused her; but she was -very far from being captivated. She did not know -whether it would be possible to give to such a man -either love or reverence, and without either one or -other Geraldine had resolved not to marry, -though she knew that it was a hard task for a -daughter to set at naught the wishes of her parents -in these matters. She saw that both father and -mother, though for different reasons, desired her to -make a speedy choice, and take up her position in -the fashionable world as a lady of title and importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, she was spared further strictures by the -arrival of the carriage at Lady Saltire's fine house: -and shortly she found herself standing behind her -mother's chair at the hazard table, half stunned by -the clatter and clamour of voices, watching with -grave, pained eyes the eager faces of the players, -their excited gestures as they reached for their -winnings, their rage and disappointment when the luck -went against them, the greed she saw in all faces—that -lust after gold which is of all vices one of the -most hateful and degrading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old men and young girls, matrons and aged dames, -all crowded round the tables, their hoops crushing -together, their tall powdered heads sometimes -meeting in sharp collision. There were scented dandies, -who regarded this "ladies' play" as the merest -bagatelle, and lost or won their gold pieces with careless -grace, thinking of the more serious play which -awaited them later at the club, or at the lodgings -of some member of their own set.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amongst this motley crowd, gaily apparelled servants -moved to and fro, handing coffee, chocolate, and -delicate confectionery, or offering scented waters for -the refreshment of the ladies. The gentlemen -preferred stronger potations, and congregated together, -laughing and jesting. But not infrequently they -would be joined by some giddy young matron, who -called them all by their Christian names, passed jests -with them that would not bear repetition in these -days, and even toasted some "pretty fellow," -laughing gaily and giddily the while.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were a few graver spirits congregated -together in one small room, and Geraldine could catch -fleeting glimpses of them through an open door. She -knew some of the faces, and that they were politicians -and men of letters; and she thought they were -discussing some literary point, for one held a paper -in his hand, and he seemed to be reading from it to -the others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll warrant they have got a new ode to my Lord -of Marlborough yonder," spoke a voice at Geraldine's -elbow; and turning she saw an elderly man whose -face was known to her from his having been a guest -at her father's house. "They had a great trouble after -the victory of Blenheim to find a poet able to hymn -the triumph in periods sufficiently fine; but I think -it was Lord Halifax who discovered Mr. Addison, -whose noble lines set the city wondering. Belike -he has broken forth into lyric or epic praise over -the battle of Ramillies, and the marvellous effects -it has had abroad. Shall we go and listen to his -periods?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine was thankful to get away from the -heated atmosphere of the card-room, and to find -herself amongst men and women who had other -fashions of thought and speech. But she was not -allowed much peace in these different surroundings; -for she was quickly summoned to her mother's side, -taken from house to house, ever seeing and hearing -the like vapourings, the like fripperies and follies. -It was the same thing at the dinner or supper, where -her mother had a whole train of young bloods in her -wake. She gave them the best the house afforded, -and spent her time quizzing the dresses of the other -ladies at the surrounding tables, learning all the -gossip about any person whose face or costume struck -her, and drinking in flattery and adulation as a bee -sips honey from the flowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of her efforts to please her mother, -Geraldine found it impossible to take any share in this -strange sort of gaiety. Her answers were little more -than monosyllables. Often she did not even understand -the allusions or the far-fetched metaphors of -those who addressed her. More often she shrank -from their glances and their open compliments, -feeling degraded by both, but powerless to repel them. -She was thankful when at last she found herself by -her mother's side in the box at Wynstanly's; for here -she hoped she might find some measure of peace, -since the box would not hold any great number of -persons, and her mother was never satisfied without -the attention of four or five gentlemen at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If the play in itself were not very entertaining, -the effects of fire and water were rather magnificent, -and something new, so that more attention was given -to the stage than was usual at such entertainments in -those days. The fashionable listeners did not turn -their backs upon the players and talk at the top of -their voices all the while the play was in progress, as -in some houses, and Geraldine was quite wrapped in -contemplation of the monsters and mermaids and -denizens of the deep, with Father Neptune and his -trident at their head, so that she knew nothing of -what went on in the box where she sat, till a voice -at her elbow spoke insistently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They lack but one thing more—snow-white -Aphrodite rising in peerless beauty from the foam of -the sea; and yet the audience has but to turn its eyes -hither, and behold they will see that crowning marvel -for themselves!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl started, and looked full into the eyes of -Lord Sandford, bent upon her with a significance -there was no misunderstanding. He was dressed in -a daring costume of scarlet and gold, with quantities -of lace and sparkling jewels. Even his well-turned -legs were encased in scarlet stockings, and his shoes -were of the same flaming hue. His height and -breadth of shoulder always made him a notable -figure; and the immense wig he wore, which to-night -was cunningly powdered so as to look almost like -frosted silver, added to the distinction of his -appearance. Gilded popinjay Lord Sandford with all his -extravagances could never be called. There was -something too virile and strong about his whole -personality for that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not like compliments, my lord," she answered, -the words escaping her lips almost before she was -aware; "I have heard something too much of Venus -and Cupid, Pallas and Hymen, since I made my -appearance in London routs. I am but a simple country -maid, and desire no high-flown compliments. I am -foolish enough to regard them rather as honeyed -insults. I pray you pardon my freedom of speech."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I pray you pardon mine," spoke Lord Sandford -quickly. "You have spoken, Lady Geraldine, a -deeper truth than perchance you know. I, for one, -will not offend again. I would that all our sisters, -wives, and daughters would look as you and speak -as you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The frank sincerity in face and voice pleased her, -and a smile dawned in her eyes. It was the first -he had ever seen bent on him, and he was struck -afresh with the pure unsullied beauty of this girl's -face. Truth to tell, his first attraction towards her -had been the rumour of her fortune, for he was more -deeply in debt than he wished the world to know; -but something in the remoteness and isolation in -which she seemed to wrap herself piqued and -interested him; for his jaded palate required fresh food -when it was to be had, and the vein of manliness and -strength which his life had never altogether warped -or destroyed responded to the sincerity he read in -Lady Geraldine's fair face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The curtain was down now. For a few minutes -he spoke of the play and the water apparatus, worked -by a windmill on the roof, which was exciting so much -interest in London. Geraldine's eyes meantime -travelled round the box. She saw her mother engrossed -in gay talk with a small circle of admirers; but one of -these edged himself somewhat away from the rest, and -finally stood apart, leaning against the wall of the box -and surveying the house from that vantage point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine's eyes were riveted with some interest -upon this newcomer, whom she was certain she had -never seen before. In some indefinable way he was -different from the men she had been used to meet at -such places. For one thing, he wore his own hair; -and the floating brown curls, like Cavalier love-locks, -seemed to her infinitely more becoming than the mass -of false hair which was so much in vogue in all ranks -save the lowest. His dress, too, though far more -simple than that of the beaux fluttering round her -mother, seemed to her far more graceful and -distinguished. His stockings, breeches, and vest were all -of white, with a little silver frosting. His coat was -of pale blue, with silver buttons; and his lace cravat, -though small and unostentatious, was rich in quality, -and fastened by a beautiful pearl. He carried neither -muff nor snuff-box, cane nor toothpick. He did not -simper nor ogle, nor look as though he desired to -attract the eyes of the house upon himself. But he -was, notwithstanding, a rather notable figure as he -stood looking gravely and thoughtfully downwards; -there was something very graceful in his attitude, -and in the carriage of his head, and his features were -so remarkably handsome that Lady Romaine turned -her eyes upon him many times, and exerted all her -artifices to draw him back to her immediate -neighbourhood. But he was perfectly unconscious of this, -not hearing the chatter which went on about him, lost -in some reverie of his own, which brought a peculiar -dreamy softness into his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford, following the direction of Geraldine's -glance, looked at this motionless figure, then back at -the girl, and laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Geraldine, pray permit me to present to -you my newly-made friend and comrade, Sir Grey -Dumaresq, who, I doubt not, is dying to make his bow -to so fair a lady."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She flashed him a glance half merry, half reproachful, -and he suddenly laid his hand upon his lips, a -laugh rolling from them hearty and full.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I' faith I had forgot! How shall I teach my -rebel tongue a new language? But Sir Grey will -atone for all my defects.—Here is a lady, if you will -believe it, O friend, who loves not the sugared and -honeyed phrase of adulation, but seeks in all things -truth, virtue, and I know not what else beside. It is -whispered to me that she is a mistress of all the -</span><em class="italics">belles lettres</em><span>, and perchance a poetess herself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, my lord," answered Geraldine, with a blush -and a smile—"only one who loves the poesy of those -who have lived before, and left their treasures for us -who come after, and would fain drink in all the -beauty of their thoughts and of their lives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford good-naturedly yielded his seat to -Grey, whose sensitive face had lighted at the girl's -words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Methought I had come to a world where naught -was dreamed of save fashion and frippery, false -adulation and falser scorn. I am well-nigh stunned by -the clamour of tongues, the strife of parties, the -bustle of this gay life of fashion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, and I too—I too!" breathed the girl softly: -and he flashed at her a quick, keen glance of sympathy -and interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was bred in the country; my grandam brought -me up. I lived with my books, amid silvan solitudes, -the songs of birds, the scent of flowers. This -great glittering world of folly and fashion is like a -fiery wheel going round in my head. Ofttimes I -could cry aloud for mercy, the pain and bewilderment -are so great. I know there must be noble men and -good in this strange Pandemonium; but I know not -where to find them, and my heart grows sick. Would -that I could go back to my books and my dreams! -But alas! a maiden may not choose for herself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still there is life here," spoke Grey quickly, "and -it behoves us to know men as well as books. I have -studied both. I will study them again. I would -fain learn all that life has to teach, whether for weal -or woe. No hermit-monk was ever truly a man. -Yet there be times when one shrinks in amaze from -all one sees and hears."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chord of sympathy was struck. They passed -from one thing to another. She found one at last -who knew and loved the poets of her childhood's -dreams—who could talk of Spenser and Sidney, of -Watson, Greville, and Drayton, quoting their verses, -and often lighting upon her favourite passages. Here -was a man who knew Milton and Clarendon, Hobbes, -Herbert, Lovelace and Suckling, Lord Herbert of -Cherbury and Izaak Walton. He had read eagerly, -like herself, poetry and prose, drama and epic, lyric -and sonnet. He could speak of Poetry as one who -had loved and courted her as a mistress. The girl -longed to ask him if he had written himself, but -maiden shyness withheld her. Yet her eyes -brightened as she talked, and the peach-like colour rose -and deepened in her cheeks; and Lord Sandford, -turning back once again from the mother to look at -the daughter, was struck dumb with admiration and -delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a rose worth winning and wearing, -though the stem may not be free from a sharp thorn," -he said to himself; and Lady Romaine, who chanced -to catch sight of Geraldine during a shifting of the -admirers who surrounded her, gave something very -like a start, and felt a curious thrill run through her -in which pride and envy were blended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gracious! I did not know I had so handsome a -daughter! I must wed her as fast as may be, else -shall I find my beaux going from me to her," was her -unspoken thought; and aloud she said, tapping Lord -Sandford with her fan, "Pray tell my daughter that -I am about to depart. We have had enough of the -naiads and dryads, and I am tired and hungry. Who -will come home with me to supper—to take pot-luck -with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was an eager clamour in response; but when -the supper-party assembled round Lady Romaine's -chocolate tables in her favourite private parlour, she -noted that Geraldine had disappeared to bed, and that -Sir Grey Dumaresq had not availed himself of her -open invitation.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-fair-face"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A FAIR FACE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>If Grey Dumaresq was a man who craved a -variety of experiences, and wished to see life -under different aspects, he was getting his wish now; -for the gay world of fashion, into which he suddenly -found himself plunged, differed </span><em class="italics">in toto</em><span> from any of -his former experiences; and so swift was the pace, -and so shifting the throng amid which he moved, -that he often felt as though his breath were fairly -taken away, and as though he had suddenly stepped -into a new existence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford had chanced upon the young -baronet at a moment when a blank had been made in -his own life by the sudden and violent death of one -who had been his boon companion and friend. The -gay young man, who had fallen in a foolish duel a -few weeks before, had been the inmate of his house -and the companion in all his freaks and follies; so -much so, that without him the young nobleman felt -for the moment bewildered and lost, and had -absented himself from town with a view to "getting -over it," as he hoped: for he despised himself for -any sign of weakness, and would not for worlds -have had his comrades and boon companions know -how the loss had affected him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, as it seemed just by a lucky chance, this -young and attractive man had fallen as from the very -skies at his feet. Grey Dumaresq, new to the world -of London, curious and speculative, willing to see all, -learn all, participate in all, seemed exactly the person -to fill the gap in his life. Grey had no place of abode; -why, then, should he not occupy the vacant chambers -in the wing of the great mansion in the Strand which -Lord Sandford used as his customary lodging, when -he was not spending his time with friends, or making -one of a gay party elsewhere? Grey had no valid -reason for declining the invitation pressed upon him. -Lord Sandford was a masterful man, and his strong -personality impressed itself upon Grey with -something between attraction and repulsion. But, on the -whole, attraction seemed the stronger power, and -curiosity to know more of this man and his life held -Grey's soul in thrall. He had always experienced -a vivid curiosity to taste life in its various forms, to -know and understand the thoughts, the feelings, the -aspirations, the ambitions of other men. His travels -had given him insight into many matters; but he -felt that these new experiences were likely to be -more searching, more exciting, more full of keen -personal interest. He had been, as it were, a -spectator heretofore; now he was to be a participator.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had not meant to be any man's guest; he had -meant to take a modest lodging of his own, and look -about him for something in the way of employment, -but Lord Sandford had roared with laughter over -such a notion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! Sir Grey Dumaresq going cap in hand to -some proud place-giver to ask for patronage, or I -know not what! Gadzooks, man, with that face, -that figure, that horse, and a purse full of guineas, -you can do better than that! Trust yourself to me. -I'll show you where fame and fortune lie. You -shall redeem your rat-infested old house in a very -brief while, if you will but trust yourself to my -guidance. You be Damon to my Pythias—or is it -t'other way round, eh?—and I'll show you the royal -road to the goal you want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For lack of any definite plans, Grey had consented -for the nonce to accept Lord Sandford's advice, and -had quickly found himself installed in some gloomy -and stately yet luxurious chambers in a vast house, -of which only a portion was open for use, and the -rest given over to a neglect and decay that -Hartsbourne itself could scarcely rival.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But we shall change all that some day," spoke -Lord Sandford, with a careless laugh, as Grey -expressed his surprise at the vast rooms and long -galleries shut up and infested by rats and spiders. -"Oh yes, we shall change all that some day; but -what does a bachelor want with such a house as -this? What should I be the better for a crowd of -liveried servants, eating off their heads, idling away -their time dicing and drinking? What have I to -give an army of scullions and cooks to do—I who -seldom take a meal at home after my morning -chocolate? No, no; I know a trick worth two of that. -I don't ruin myself to keep a crew of fat, lazy rogues -about me, cheating me at every turn. Half a dozen -fellows and a few kitchen wenches do well enow -for me; but when Lady Sandford comes to her -husband's home—ah well! then we shall see the -difference."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But though he talked jestingly from time to time -of the Lady Sandford that was to be, he gave Grey -no hint as to whether his fancy inclined more to one -or another of the many gay maidens with whom he -chatted and flirted, danced and romped, in the fashion -of the day; and so bewildering and dazzling were -these young madams and their surroundings that the -newcomer was lost in a maze of wonder and bewilderment, -and found it hard to distinguish one face -from another, until he met one, different from all -the rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Grey was not left idle; he had small time for -musing. The very first day of his sojourn in London -he was surrounded by a fluttering crowd of tailors, -glove-sellers, barbers, fencers, sellers and purveyors of -every imaginable ware, who all professed their -eagerness to serve him, and quoted Lord Sandford as a -patron who could swear to their honesty and the -excellence of their goods.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Into the midst of this motley throng Lord Sandford -thrust himself, laughing his great hearty laugh, -and quickly sent to the right-about two-thirds of the -importunate crowd—a jest here, a keen thrust there, -a slap on back or shoulder in another quarter, -emphasizing his forcible hints. And when the room -was cleared of all but the lucky few, he flung -himself into an armchair with another laugh, telling -Grey he was sorry his knaves of servants, who -looked for perquisites everywhere, had let in this -flood of rogues upon him, but added that he must -needs have the wherewithal to cut a proper figure -in London town, and forthwith set about the business -of ordering an outfit for the young man which almost -took his guest's breath away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poof!" he cried, when the latter strove to -remonstrate, "you have plenty of money; and these -rascals can wait if it suits your pleasure. Father's -memory! Oh, be hanged to all such mawkish -sentiment! You need not think less of your father -because you wear a blue coat in lieu of a black! -Rabbit me! but you are of a different world from -this if you keep alive your father's memory for six -months after his decease! No, no; you must cut a -figure. Sir Hugh's name is clean forgot by now. -I'll eat my boots if 'tis not so. I'll have you as gay -as my fancy paints you. No black—no sables for -the gentleman, I tell you. Let us see those other -patterns. Ah! here is something more like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey submitted. In sooth, he cared but little for -the colour of his clothes, or the set of his hat, or -the cut of his coat. He let Lord Sandford have his -way for the most part, only insisting here and there -upon soft and tender tints, and showing a predilection -for white, which his friend quite approved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall be a foil to me, not a rival. I have -learned that art from the ladies. I like to blaze -like old Sol in his strength; you shall rather recall -gentle Luna amid her galaxy of stars. Faugh! -One's tongue gets into this silly trick of speech, -so that one cannot drop it even betwixt man and -man! But you are right to think that white -becomes you well. You will look a pretty fellow, in -all conscience, when you have added a peruke to -your other adornments."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here Grey stood firm. Nothing would induce -him to cumber his head with one of those mountains -of hair. In vain the perruquiers displayed their wares; -in vain Lord Sandford bantered and laughed, and -made out that he would be reckoned as a mad -fellow by the young bloods of the city. Grey would -not yield an inch. He had always found his own -hair sufficient and comfortable, and he would wear -it to the end. And as the discomfited perruquier -at last departed, Lord Sandford broke into another -of his great laughs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I' faith you are right, man. I like you the better -that you have the courage of your opinions, and care -no whit for fashion. You'll be a match for more -than the perruquiers yet. There's a fighting strain -in your blood. I can see it in the glint of your eye. -Well, you shall not lack opportunity to fight as well -as to laugh here in London town; but we'll not have -cold steel or hot lead again. I've seen enough of -that cursed duelling to last me for a lifetime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey was quickly to discover the nature of the -battles in which he was to take a part, and at the first -he shrank from them with an instinctive aversion he -could not well have defined, being no grave moralist -or philosopher. Contests of skill or of luck at the -gaming tables were all the rage of the day with the -young dandies of the town, and the man who could -keep a steady head, and in some cases a steady hand, -was certain in the long run to obtain advantage over -his fellows. At one club a game something like our -modern billiards was all the rage; and, of course, a -man who was moderate in his cups could score heavily -over the reckless, dissipated bloods, who were seldom -sober after sundown. Dice and cards had their -vogue at other places; and though some of the games -played were those purely of chance, others required -no small skill and a clear head to ensure success, and -it was here that Lord Sandford's strong head and -Grey's cool blood and temperate habits gave them the -advantage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man had not been a fortnight in town -before finding his capital doubled, as well as all bills -paid to the astonished tradesmen, who seldom looked -to receive their money within a twelvemonth. He -was disposed to be troubled at this easy fashion of -making money; but Lord Sandford laughed him to -scorn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Zounds, man, what does it matter? Those young -popinjays are bound to lose their money to some one. -Why not then to honest fellows like you and me, -who pay our bills and do good to the community -with the money? Scruples! Faugh! you must rid -yourself of them! Sir Hugh Dumaresq's son need -not trouble himself thus. Let us eat and drink, -for to-morrow we die. Isn't that good Scripture?" But -the reckless young lord paled a little at the -sound of his own words. He had seen sudden death -once too often for his peace of mind of late.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In sooth, Grey felt but little scruple in taking his -winnings. The young man was not greatly in -advance of his age, although he was indued with a -nature more finely strung and aspirations more lofty -than belonged to most. Gambling was so much a -matter of course both in this and in other lands, and -the devotees of the amusement so numerous and so -bent upon their sport, that it would have needed -stronger convictions than Grey as yet possessed to -make any stand on such a point. He took the same -risks as the others, and if his coolness of head, -steadiness of hand, and quick observation and memory -served to make for success in his case, he rather -regarded this as a witness to his superiority, and felt -only a small sense of reluctance in pocketing his gains; -which reluctance he could only attribute to a -lingering memory of words spoken by his mother when he -was a growing boy, and news came to them from -time to time of Sir Hugh's losses over cards, and the -necessity for further retrenchments upon the already -impoverished estate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the cases being so dissimilar, Grey did not see -that he need debar himself from this easy highroad -to fortunes, as it then seemed. Nobody was dependent -upon him. Nobody was there to grieve over his -troubles or to rejoice over his success. His honest -serving-man was in sooth the only being in any way -deeply attached to him; and Dick was as delighted -at his master's brave appearance, and at the golden -stream running into his pocket, as though he had -achieved some great success or triumph.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was one way by which Grey had pocketed -considerable sums of money that was very congenial -to him, and had given him some very happy hours. -This was the speed and strength of his horse, which -Lord Sandford had made boast of, vowing in the -hearing of some of the smartest dandies of the town -that Don Carlos would beat any steed against whom -he was pitted—a challenge eagerly taken up by the -young bloods, proud of their own horses and -horsemanship, to whom trials of skill and strength, and -contests over which wagers might freely be exchanged, -were as the very salt of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So either out at Hampstead, or at Richmond or -Hampton Court, Don Carlos had been set to show -the metal of which he was made, and had come off -easy victor in every race and every match, whether -flat running, or leaping, or a course of the nature of -a steeplechase had been elected. His strength and -speed, sagacity and endurance, had never once failed -him, and already he was the talk of the town, and -Grey could have sold him for a great price had he -been willing to part with his favourite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Many bright eyes had smiled upon the young -centaur, many languishing glances had been cast at -him. He had been called up again and again to -be presented to some high-born dame, or some bevy -of laughing maidens, and he had bowed with courtly -grace, and received their sugared compliments with -suitable acknowledgments. But no face had attracted -him as that face he had seen once at the water theatre, -almost upon his first appearance in the gay world. -He knew that it belonged to Lady Geraldine Romaine; -and often his eyes roved round some gay assemblage, -searching half unconsciously for a sight of her tall -and graceful figure, and the sweet, earnest face, so -different from the laughing and grimacing crowd in -which he now moved. Grey had not known much -of women, so far. His college life first, and then his -roving career of adventure, had hindered him from -making friendships save with those of his own sex; -and his deep love for his mother had preserved as -a living power his chivalrous belief in women, and -a resolute determination to disbelieve the idle, -malicious, and vicious tales he heard of them on all -sides. Womanhood was sacred to him, and should -be sacred to the world. That was his inalienable -conviction; and he had striven to be blind and deaf -to much of what had often been passing around him, -that he might not sink to the level of the men he -met, who would tear to tatters a woman's reputation -for an evening's pastime, or revel in every ugly bit of -scandal or tittle-tattle that the young beaux' valets -learned from the lackeys of other fine folk, and -retailed with additions at the door of the theatre, the -gates of the Park, or on the staircases of the -fashionable houses whither their masters and mistresses -flocked for amusement, unconscious or heedless of -the gossip spread abroad about them by their -servants at the doors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey took no pleasure in the society of these -fashionable dames. His tongue had not learned the -trick of the artificial language then in vogue. He -was disgusted by the gross flattery every lady looked -to receive, and the lisping platitudes of the attendant -beaux filled him with scorn. It was small wonder -that he chose rather the society of men of more -virility and stronger fibre, such as Lord Sandford -and his chosen friends; for though many of them -were wild young rakes, and not a few had a very -doubtful record, yet Grey knew little enough about -that, and found them not without attraction, although -the higher part of his nature revolted from much -that he saw and heard. Nevertheless, he regarded it -all as a part of the experience in life which he -craved, and he might have become in a short while -just such another as these, had it not been for an -incident which suddenly arrested him in his career -of dissipation, and turned his thoughts into different -channels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had been early June when he came to town, -and now July had come, with its sultry suns and -breathless nights, when Grey ofttimes felt after an -evening over cards that it was mockery to go to bed, -and lounged away the residue of the night at his -open window, enjoying the only coolness and freshness -that was to be had, as the wind came whispering -from the river charged with refreshing moisture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes the river seemed to call him; and at -such times he would lay aside his finery, clothe -himself in some plainer habit, and betake himself through -the silent house, where the night watchman was -always found slumbering at his post, out through the -big courts and down to the river steps, where a few -light wherries were always kept moored, one of which -he would select, and shoot out upon the glimmering -river to meet the new day there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some of his happiest hours were spent thus; and -at such times as these he felt rising within him a vague -sense of unrest and of disgust. He had come to the -world of London to conquer fate, to make for himself -a name and a career; and here he was wasting day -after day in coffee-houses or clubs, with a crowd -of idlers whose thoughts never rose above the fancy -of the hour, whose only ambition was to kill time as -easily and pleasantly as possible, and to line their -pockets with gold, that they might have more to -throw away on the morrow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was this what he would come to? Was this what -he was made for? Would he become like unto them, -a mere roisterer and boon companion, a man without -aspirations and without ambition? His cheeks burned -at the thought; and he sent his light craft spinning -rapidly up the stream as the questions formed themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an exquisite summer morning. The bells -in the many towers and steeples of the city had -chimed the hour of five. The sun had long been up, -yet the glamour and glory of the new-born day still -lay upon the sleeping city and the dewy meadows of -the opposite shore. Grey rowed on rapidly, yet -drinking in the beauty of all he saw. He knew not -how far he had rowed; he had lost count of his -surroundings; he was absorbed in a deep reverie, when he -was suddenly brought up breathless and wondering -by the sound of a voice singing—a voice so clear and -sweet and true that he asked himself whether it -could be any creature of earth that sang, or whether -it might be some nymph or mermaid such as sailors -spoke of in their wondrous tales.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gazed about him. He saw that he was passing -a garden, and that a group of weeping willows -overhung the water at this spot. The singing seemed to -come from thence. Burning curiosity possessed him, -and he very slowly and softly rowed himself onwards, -till the prow of his boat met the drooping boughs -with a soft rustle. The song ceased suddenly. Grey -turned in his seat, and drew himself within the -sheltering shade; as he did so, a quick exclamation -broke from him. He dropped his oars as he exclaimed,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Lady Geraldine!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>How had it come about? Grey never could have -said. But now it was all told—the story of his -chequered life. She had been silent at the first—not -exactly resentful of his intrusion, not unwilling to let -him have speech of her again, but quiet, with a -maidenly reserve and dignity which had acted upon -him like a charm. It brought back to him the -memory of his mother, and her noble dignity. The -look in her eyes recalled those things that he had -learned at her knee, and those aspirations after true -greatness of life which she had cherished and fostered. -Suddenly his present life looked to him utterly sordid, -mean, and unworthy; and in a burst of confidence, for -which he could have given no reason, he told her all -his tale, encouraged by the soft and earnest glances -of her beautiful eyes, although she scarcely spoke a -word from beginning to end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now she looked at him with a great compassion -in her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it is sad, it is sad!" she said in her earnest -musical tones. "I know a little how sad it is. I see -it too. But you are a man. You are strong, you are -your own master. Why do you let yourself be made -the sport and plaything of fate? Oh, do not do it! -Rise to your calling as a man, as a gentleman, as a -Christian! You can—I know you can! I read it -in your face! What is Lord Sandford to you? -The acquaintance of a few weeks. What are his -comrades to you? You know that in your heart you -despise them. Then will you make yourself as one -of them? Will you sink to their level? Oh no, no, -no! Break the fetters; they cannot be fast riveted -yet. Break them, and stand a free man, and then -see what the world has to offer you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was gazing at him now, not shyly, not as a -maiden archly coquetting with a handsome young -swain, but as a woman yearning to reclaim one whose -footsteps had well-nigh slipped in the mire, and whose -whole soul was stirred by the effort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey listened like a man who dreams; and yet his -eyes were on fire, and his heart was kindled to a -great flame—shame at his own weakness, yearnings -after vanished memories and half-forgotten -aspirations struggling together with some new and utterly -unknown emotion which seemed to come surging over -him like a flood, leaving him speechless, motionless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had risen, and now held out her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will triumph yet. I am assured of it. And -I shall pray God to give you His strength and grace. -Farewell, sir; we may meet again sometimes. I shall -hear of you. I shall listen to hear naught but good. -Your mother's voice shall plead through mine. Give -up evil companions; give up idle dissipation, and all -that it brings in its train. Lead the higher life of -the Courteous Knight, the Spotless Knight, the Knight -of the Holy Grail. Did we not speak of them all -when first we met, and methought you looked such -a one yourself? Be true to that better self; and so -I say farewell again. May God be with you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was gone, and Grey stood looking after her as -a man who sees a vision.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-startling-discovery"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A STARTLING DISCOVERY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As Grey Dumaresq drifted downstream with the -tide that sunny July morning, he felt as -though something new and wonderful had come into -his life, as though some great and marvellous change -had fallen upon him, which, for good or ill, must leave -its mark upon his life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not try to analyze the strange feelings -which possessed him. For a time he did not even -consciously think. He seemed to be drifting along a -shining pathway—drifting, he scarce knew whither, -and did not care to ask. His heart was strangely -heavy, and yet strangely light. A curious loathing -and shame at himself was blended with a sense of -exultant triumph, which held him in a mood of -ecstasy. For a long while he drifted onwards, scarce -thinking or knowing whither he went, till a sudden -consciousness that he was passing Lord Sandford's -house brought him to himself with a sense of shock. -He had left that house only two hours before; yet it -might have been as many years that had rolled over -his head, so different were his feelings, so changed -was his outlook upon life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moored his boat, and went up to his room. -Before long he would be expected to drink coffee or -chocolate at his friend's levee, meet all those of his -comrades who had energy to pay their customary -</span><em class="italics">devoirs</em><span> to their patron, and discuss the plans for the -ensuing day and night. Grey dashed some cold water -over his hot head, and sat down to think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What would Lord Sandford say if he suddenly -expressed his intention of giving up gambling in all -its many insidious forms, in order to enter upon a -life totally different from that of the past weeks? -It was not as though he had any alternative plan to -unfold to him. He was as ignorant how his fortune -was to be made now, after several weeks in gay -London town, as he had been on his first approach -to that city. He could almost hear the great guffaw -of laughter with which Lord Sandford would greet -his confession. He half feared the powerful -personality and the imperious temper of the man who -had been a good friend to him, and who had the -reputation of being a dangerous enemy when his will -was crossed. Grey knew that this man liked him—went -near to loving him—would not easily let him -go. He knew that he would appear both ungrateful -and capricious; and the young man writhed at the -thought of seeming either the one or the other. But -yet he must break away. Pacing up and down the -room, he seemed to see the soft earnest eyes of the -Lady Geraldine bent upon him. He had pledged his -word to her, and in spirit to his dead mother. From -that pledge there was no drawing back. Yet how -could the break best be made?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He thought over the engagements already entered -into. Was it needful that these should be kept? -He thought not—at least not those which were but -promises to meet at such and such clubs or coffee-houses -for the purposes of card-playing and similar -recreations. But there was one engagement that -Grey did not see his way honourably to break. -He had promised to ride Don Carlos the following -Saturday in a course against three other picked -horses, and heavy wagers, he knew, had been laid -upon or against his steed. This engagement he felt -he could not break; but the rest he would. He -might even make the excuse that Don Carlos wanted -attention, and that he was going to take him into -the country for purposes of training; and, once away -from Sandford House, he ought to be able to pen a -letter to the master which might excuse his return, -and explain the nature of the change which had -come over him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, that would be the way. He would not go -open-mouthed to him this morning, to be perhaps -scoffed or cajoled into some rash compromise. Grey -knew that his ability to see both sides of a question -often led him into difficulties and the appearance of -vacillation. Surely he could keep his pledge if he -made the break with a certain diplomatic skill. Not -only would it be easier to himself, but it might prove -the safer method also.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he saw Lord Sandford in the midst of his -friends, laughing at the last bit of scandal, passing -jokes over the latest repartee of the redoubtable -Duchess of Marlborough to the meek Queen, discussing -the rivalries of the ministers, and the other rivalries -(to them more important) of the reigning beauties -of the gay world, Grey felt that it would indeed be -impossible to speak in this company of any of those -things which were in his mind. He contented -himself by standing aloof, looking out of the window -and sipping his chocolate, whilst the gay flood of talk -surged around him, and he caught a word here and -a phrase there, but always heard when Lord Sandford's -resonant tones dominated those of all others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Talk of rival beauties; we shall see sport -to-night. Lady Romaine and Lady Saltire—dearest -friends and dearest foes—are to go to Vauxhall -Gardens to-night, each in a new toilet specially -designed and ordered for the occasion. It will be a -ladies' battle, in very truth; and public opinion must -needs decide which of the rival queens is fairest to -look upon. I have promised both the dear creatures -to be there, to give my admiration to both alike. -Shall I risk the undying enmity of either by giving -the palm to one? No such fool, gentlemen—no such -fool is Sandford. I vow I will have ready such a -pretty speech or couplet for each that she shall go -away with a better opinion of me than ever! Ha, -ha, ha! I love to see the pretty dears, tricked out -in their finery, and ready to tear each other's eyes -out! So, gentlemen, I cancel all previous engagements -for to-night. I am for Vauxhall, and Heaven -only knows how late we shall be detained there by -the battle of beauty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will all be there!" cried the young bloods, -who were at all times ready to follow Lord Sandford -to whatever place of entertainment he elected to go; -and one voice followed with a laughing question,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will the snow maiden be there in the train of -her mother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey felt himself start, and was glad his face was -turned away. He would not for worlds that the -sharp mocking eyes of Lord Sandford should see -him at this moment, albeit he had no notion of any -sort that he had special interest in his spotless Lady -Geraldine.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 58%" id="figure-39"> -<span id="he-stood-quite-still-to-watch-lord-sandford-lead-away-the-fair-geraldine"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="He stood quite still to watch Lord Sandford lead away the fair Geraldine (page 155)." src="images/img-146.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">He stood quite still to watch Lord Sandford lead away the fair Geraldine (page </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id4">155</a><span class="italics">).</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I trow so," was the carelessly-spoken reply of -Lord Sandford, as he adjusted his wig and suffered -his valet to spray some delicate perfume over his -person, as a finishing touch to his toilet. "The -Lady Geraldine is no longer to lead the life of a -nun. It has been decreed that she is to show her -lovely face abroad, and add thereby a lustre to her -mother's charms."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A lustre her ladyship would well dispense with," -laughed another. "She would sooner pose as the -stepmother than the mother of a grown-up daughter—ha, -ha! How comes it that this young beauty -hath never been shown before to the world? Other -damsels make their </span><em class="italics">début</em><span> at sixteen; but the Lady -Geraldine can scarce be less than twenty, and has -the dignity of matronhood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A vast deal more dignity than the most part of -our matrons do show forth," spoke Lord Sandford -incisively. "Doubtless she learned it from her -grandam, her mother's mother and her father's aunt; -for my Lord and my Lady Romaine are cousins, and -Mrs. Adair was trusted and revered by both. Young -children are in the way of such gay ladies of fashion, -wherefore the babe was sent to its grandam, and -remained with her till the virtuous and discreet old -lady died, having bequeathed her store of wisdom -and discretion to the beautiful maid she had reared."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And her fortune too," sniggered one gay dandy. -"Do not forget that item, my lord. It is whispered -that it will make the biggest of her charms. What -is the figure? Doth anybody know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All disclaimed any precise information, and Lord -Sandford spoke no word; his brow was slightly -furrowed, and there was a subdued gleam in his eye -which warned those who saw it that something in -the conversation was not to his mind. They -therefore hastened to change it, and many of them said -adieu and sauntered away. Only a small knot -remained with their patron, discussing the plans for -the day; and Grey stood still in the embrasure of -the window, his heart still beating with curious -violence and rapidity. When those men were -speaking of Geraldine, he had scarce been able to keep -his fingers from their throats. What business had -they taking her pure name upon their lips? And -why had they spoken of her fortune? Could it be -true that she was so great an heiress? He hated to -believe it; yet what was it to him? He was wakened -from his reverie by a quick question from Lord -Sandford, which he heard as through the mists of a dream, -and answered,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis true I am not quite myself. I slept not at -all last night, and have been on the river well-nigh -since sunrise to rid me of the vapours. Methinks I -will seek some sleep in mine own rooms ere night. -Reckon not on me for to-day's pastime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, you have the air of a man squeamish and in -need of rest. Go get thee a good sleep, friend Grey, -for we must keep you in fettle for the match on -Saturday. Man and beast must come to the field -strong and robust, with nerve and wind and muscle -true and taut. But you must make one of our party -to Vauxhall to-night. There will be many bright -eyes on the lookout for the gay cavalier, as the -ladies call you for your love-locks. You must not -fail us there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Grey hesitated, prudence and passion -fighting together for mastery. But the overwhelming -desire to see Geraldine again—perhaps to -speak a word of farewell—overcame him, and he -answered briefly as he strolled through the room on -his way out,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be ready enough for that; you can reckon -on me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How the day passed Grey never knew, and it was -still broad daylight when he and his comrades started -for the gardens of Vauxhall, where it was the fashion -to spend the evening hours when nothing more -attractive offered, and where such music and such -illuminations as the times had to offer were to be enjoyed, -and where ladies and their attendant beaux fluttered -about like so many gay butterflies, and found -opportunity as the dusk fell for walks and talks of a more -private nature in the bosky alleys and shady paths -than they could hope to gain in crowded routs and -card-parties. Supper could be obtained too, and -pleasant little parties made up; and the fashionable -world found it agreeable on these hot summer nights -to take their pleasure out in the open air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey detached himself from his friends upon the -first opportunity, and wandered alone through the -gardens, avoiding encounters with persons he knew, -though often accosted with laugh and jest and -challenge by masked ladies, or young bloods eager to -make friends with one whose face and figure began -to be known, owing to his successes in horsemanship -with Don Carlos, and his friendship with Lord -Sandford. But Grey made small response to overtures, -quickly shook himself free, and pursued his solitary -ramble, till at length a sound of gay voices, laughter, -and almost uproarious mirth, in which the tones of -Lord Sandford could plainly be heard, drew him to a -wide open space where an illuminated fountain seemed -to have drawn a great concourse of people; and there, -amid a tossing crowd of gaudy gallants, and ladies -with towering heads, mincing, giggling, uttering little -shrieks, little jests, or playing off an infinitude of -coquetries and artifices to attract admiration, he -beheld the stately white-robed figure around which -his thoughts and fancies had been playing all through -the long hours of the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw not the rival queens of beauty in their -gorgeous apparel. He saw not the surging crowd -that eddied around them, appraising, flattering, -admiring, laughing. He only saw one white figure, -standing aloof and for the moment alone, the -moonbeams glimmering upon the shining whiteness of her -dress, the fair face bent, as though in some sort of -sorrow or shame. He saw it, and he was instantly at -her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whether or not he spoke, he knew not. He offered -his arm, and the next moment he was leading her -away from that giddy, mocking crowd; and he felt -the clinging clasp of her fingers thrilling him to his -heart's core. He heard the breath of relief as the -chorus of flippant merriment died away in the distance. -He paused, and a quick exclamation escaped his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is no place for you, Lady Geraldine. Why -do they bring you hither?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She answered not, but turned her gaze for a -moment towards him, and then dropped her eyes. -With an impulse for which he could not account, he -covered the fingers which lay upon his arm with his -own disengaged hand, and passionate words sprang to -his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me only the right, fair lady, and I will save -you from them all. I ask only to live and die as -your knight—your champion—without wages—without reward!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he was silent. His breath came thick and -fast. He felt the quiver of the hand he held. He -knew not how long the silence lasted, it was so -strangely sweet, so full of mysterious meaning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you, sir. I trow that you speak truth, -and that your words are not idle froth—gone in a -moment—as the words of so many of yonder gallants. -But it may not be. I may not give you such a right. -A maiden is not free to choose her friends; and the -knights of chivalry are long since vanished from the -earth. I would that I might call you friend, that -sometimes we might meet and hold converse together. -I trust that I may learn a good report of you, that -one day I may speak with pride of having known -you in your youth. But that must suffice us. Let -it be enough for both. I may not—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She hesitated, and her voice died into silence. -She spoke with a repressed emotion which he scarcely -understood. The tumult of his own heart was such -that he could not seek to gauge the depths of her -feelings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I may not be your knight, let me at least be -your friend—your servant!" he pleaded. "And if -there is anything wherein I can serve you—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She seemed struck by the phrase. She lifted her -bent head and gazed earnestly at him; but the words -she spoke seemed strange.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are the friend of Lord Sandford; is it not so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been his comrade these many weeks. He -has shown me much kindness and good-fellowship. -I owe him gratitude."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you must know him well, I doubt not. Tell -me, Sir Grey—and I pray you deceive me not—what -kind of a man is this same Lord Sandford? Is he -leal and true, faithful, loving, and loyal? Is he -better than the crowd who follow at his heels and -ape his manners, use his name as a watchword, and -fawn upon his favour? Tell me, what think you -of him? A friend must needs speak sooth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady, you have asked a hard question, inasmuch -as I know but little of the man, albeit I have lived -with him above a month. He attracts me, and yet -there be moments when he repels me too. He is a -good friend—I would not speak a word against him; -yet it is said that he can be a bitter and an -unscrupulous enemy; and those who have lost his favour -withdraw themselves as speedily as possible from his -notice, fearful lest some evil may befall them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he then cruel and rancorous?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can believe that he might be, were his passions -roused. He has that forceful nature which tends to -vehement liking and bitter hatred. I have experienced -the one; I have not tasted of the other. For -the rest, he is a man of parts, and can do all well to -which he puts his hand. Methinks he would be -strong enough to break off his reckless and vicious -habits, had he but motive sufficient to make him! -desire to do so. But for the nonce he floats with the -current, and lives as the world lives. More I cannot say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment a swift, firm tread was heard -approaching along the dim alley; and Geraldine -looked hastily round, her hand dropping from -Grey's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is he!" she whispered, and there was a catch -in her voice which the young man heard without -understanding. He faced round, and beheld the -towering figure of Lord Sandford beside them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well chanced upon!" quoth he in his resonant -tones. "I was sent by your mother in search of you, -Lady Geraldine. The court of beauty has sat. To -her has been adjudged the prize. She now desires -the presence of her daughter, to share her triumph. -We shall sup anon, and the table will not be -complete without one gracious and lovely presence. -Lady Geraldine, honour me by accepting my -escort.—Grey, will you join us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke the last words over his shoulder, and -there was a note in his voice which the young man -had never heard before, and which he did not fully -understand. It seemed to sting him, but he knew -not why.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you—no," he answered. "I am going home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext" id="id4"><span>And then he stood quite still to watch Lord -Sandford lead away the fair Geraldine, who threw -him one strange, half-appealing glance over her -shoulder, but spoke no word of farewell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had meant to go home, but somehow he -could not bring himself to do so. His brain seemed -on fire, and his heart with it. He knew not what -ailed him, but a fever was consuming him. He left -the gardens, but walked on and on, not knowing -or caring whither he went. The night was far -spent, and the dawn was beginning to blush in the -eastern sky, before he found himself in the region -of Sandford House again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The place was still and deserted. The revellers -and roisterers seemed all at home. A watchman -dozed at his post, thankful for the peace of the -streets, and Grey met no interruption, till suddenly, -round a corner, he came face to face with his host, -who gave him a look, uttered a short laugh, and -linked his arm within his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well met, friend Grey! You too have had no -desire to woo the somnolent god? We find metal -more attractive elsewhere. Say now, what think -you of the future Lady Sandford? Methought you -had eyes but for her to-night. Will she not queen -it right royally here—the beautiful stately creature? -You have taste, Grey, and I am well pleased that -you have. Those painted, patched, and powdered -Jezebels, smirking and ogling and running all over -the town for the adulation of the crowd, are as little -to your mind as to mine. We can flatter and fool -and make mock with the best; but when it comes -to marriage! Faugh! one's soul sickens at the -thought. What man in his senses would trust his -happiness or his honour in the hands of that tawdry -crew? Gilt and tinsel do very well to play with; -but when one desires to purchase, one asks for gold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey's heart seemed to stand still within him. He -felt growing numb and cold. As they passed -beneath the gateway, and the lamp shone upon his -face, Lord Sandford saw that it was white as death, -and a strange gleam came into his own eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, my friend, you do not answer. What -think you of the wife that I have chosen? What -think you of the Lady Geraldine Adair? Is she not -a matchless creature? Who would have believed such -a sport could come from such a tree?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey commanded himself by a great effort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the Lady Geraldine Adair, then, your affianced -wife?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That, or next door to it. My suit is approved -of her parents. We shall be betrothed ere long. I -thought you might be learning as much from her own -lips to-night. Did I not hear my name pass between -you twain?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She did ask some question anent you," answered -Grey, who had no desire to fence or parry—he felt -too stunned and bewildered; "but she spoke not of -any troth-plight. Why should she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True, why should she? She is not one of your -empty-headed chatterers. She wears not her heart -upon her sleeve. And your acquaintance is of the -slightest; is it not so? Have you met before, since -that evening in the water theatre when I did first -present you to each other?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have seen her but once between," answered -Grey, still in the same quiet, stunned fashion; and -when they had entered the house, he made excuse -to go at once to his room, declining all proffer of -refreshment or further converse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford looked after him with an intent -look upon his face, which slowly clouded over, till -there was something almost malignant and ferocious -in his aspect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So it is as I thought. He has been hit, and -hard hit. Where can he have seen her in the -interim? They would not have been standing -thus, talking thus, if some bond had not been -established between them. Yet I thought I had kept an -eye upon him. I knew there might be danger. I saw -it the first moment that they met. There is something -akin in their natures. They feel it themselves. -Hr-r-r-rr! that must be put a stop to. I will have -no rival in Geraldine's heart. She does not love me -yet; but she fears me a little, and she thinks of me. -That is no bad basis to build upon. I shall win her -yet, if I have a fair field. But a rival—no, that must -not be! And yet I read somewhat in her eyes -to-night which had not been there before. The fiend -take all false friends! I must rid myself of this one, -and that speedily. I have liked him; but he shall -not stand in my way. Well, 'tis I have made him: -I can quickly unmake him. Let me but think of -the way and the means. Grey Dumaresq, you are -a pretty fellow and a pleasant comrade; but you -shall never be suffered to stand in the light of -Sandford's hopes and plans and desires. Look to -yourself, my friend; for evil is abroad for you!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-mad-world-my-masters"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Master, master, wake up! What ails you? -Have you forgot the day, and what has -to be done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick, with an expression of uneasiness and -determination upon his face, was shaking Grey somewhat -vehemently by the shoulder. The latter seemed to -find it hard to wake; and when his eyes opened at -last, there was a lack-lustre expression in them that -was strange and unnatural. Dick's honest face -clouded over yet more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was certain there was some devilry afoot when -they all came here last night. I have never seen my -master in such a mad mood of merriment," he muttered -half aloud, as he turned away to get a brimming glass -of pure cold water from the table. "What has come -over them, I don't know. But I like not the change. -I liked not the look in Lord Sandford's eyes. He is -a great man, I doubt it not; but I wish my master -had chanced upon another as a friend and comrade -in this great Babylon of a city. There is more -going on here than I well understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you grumbling over there to yourself, -Dicon?" asked Grey from his bed, and his voice -sounded more natural and quiet than his servant -had heard it yet; "and where am I? For sure this -room is strange to mine eyes, nor have I any -recollection of it overnight; and how come you to -be here, for that matter, honest Dicon? Methought -you were at Hampstead, watching over Don Carlos, -that he might be ready for Saturday's race."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, master, and so I am; and this is the hostelry -at Hampstead where I have taken up my quarters -with the horse; and hither it was that you came -yestere'en, with Lord Sandford and his friends, to -be ready for the match to-day. But beshrew me -if I did think yesterday you would be fit for the -saddle to-day! Is it strange I should mutter and -grumble to myself when such things happen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay now, what things, good Dicon? I pray you -tell me," spoke Grey, as he drained at one draught -the ice-cold water, and drew a long breath of relief. -"I feel like a man waking from a strange and -fevered dream; for, in sooth, I know but little of -what has been passing these last days. Some strange -madness seems to have possessed me. I had meant -to say farewell to Lord Sandford and his world, and -seek mine own fortunes in some other field. Yet -methinks I have not made the break. I have visions -of wild orgies and furious gaming—such as I held -aloof from before. Dicon, I fear me I have made a -desperate fool of myself, and of my fortunes too. Tell -me, what money have I with me now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not much, master. I took what you had—a -matter of some twenty guineas perhaps. I have it -safe in a bag. But surely that is not all. You had -won a fortune, you did tell me—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, and now I have lost it. I can recollect how -the guineas flew, and how the stakes were doubled, -and how I lost again and yet again. I take it I am -a ruined man, good Dicon. These twenty guineas -saved from the wreck are all the fortune I possess, -and belike it is better so—better so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better!" echoed the dismayed Dick; "nay, my -master. But you will win it back again. The luck -cannot always be against you. Think how it was at -the first!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Dicon, and perchance it had been better had -the luck been worse. I love not such gains as these. -Besides, there is somewhat in this beyond my ken. -Lord Sandford desired my friendship and company -then, and luck was with me. Now that he desires -it no more, the luck has changed, and that so strangely -and desperately that one might almost say there was -magic in it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick's jaw dropped; he longed to know more, but -feared to intrude too much upon his master's secrets. -Grey, however, knew how faithful and attached was -his stanch henchman, and as he went through his -morning toilet he told him a little of the events of -the past three days, in as far as he himself could -remember them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have offended Lord Sandford doubly," he said, -"though he will not openly admit it. But I know—I -feel the change. I trow that he is my enemy. -Nay, Dicon, look not so aghast; it will matter little -in the future, since to-day I take my leave of him, -and most like in this great whirling world our paths -will not again cross, either for weal or woe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how?—what? He did seem to love you well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think he did; but a mischance befell. He did -not tell me of his troth-plight to a fair lady—a lady -of surpassing beauty, and of a virtue and purity which -make her like a bright particular star amid the painted -dames and mincing damsels of this giddy London town. -Twice or thrice did I meet her and pay homage to -her wondrous beauty and goodness. It was words -she spoke to me that decided me, ere ever any -ill-blood had been aroused, to leave off from this life -of pleasure-seeking and distraction, and seek a nobler -career than that of the butterfly dandy fluttering -round the town. But Lord Sandford thought that -there was somewhat more than this betwixt us. Of -that I am assured. A flame of jealousy swept over -him; and when I told him of my resolution, I trow -that his suspicions received confirmation. I did not -see it then, but I see it now. He thought I left him -to pursue my ends alone, and, perchance, to seek to -win the lady of his choice. But he spoke nothing of -this—only insisted that for this week my engagements -should be kept, and that after to-day's race I -might go my own way, an I was so resolved. He -was not unkindly; yet there was something strange -and stern in his bearing and language, and you have -seen how his imperious temper and will sweep all -before them. I myself was strangely dazed and -something sorrowful. I scarce do know why my -heart was so heavy within me. I let him have his -way; and you behold what that way has been. I -am a ruined man, beggared of all my winnings; -and methinks my Lord Sandford has plotted for -this very thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a shame! Would I could take my horsewhip -to him—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay, good Dicon; be not so wroth," spoke -Grey calmly and quietly. "In sooth, I know not -that I owe him aught but thanks. When all is said -and done, it was but ill-gotten gain. I would sooner -face life with none of it upon me. I had a few -guineas to start with—well, it was more than a few; -yet had I spent my time in London, I should have -had but little left by now. I have learned many -lessons, and I shall start clear of debt, and without -my pockets filled with other men's gold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick was scarce moralist enough to understand or -appreciate his master's scruples—scruples new, indeed, -to Grey himself—but the faithful fellow was ready -to accept any verdict and any decision made by the -man he loved and served; and as he put the finishing -touches to the workmanlike riding toilet which he -had in readiness, he remarked with a short laugh,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith, master, you and I betwixt us, with Don -Carlos and my good nag for company, and a few -guineas in our pockets, need not fear the future; and -I trow it will be well for you to be quit for ever -of my Lord Sandford's company. I liked him not -greatly for your friend; I hate him with a goodly -hatred since he shows himself your foe. Shall we -turn our backs upon him and upon London town, -and seek our fortunes with the army over the water, -where his Grace of Marlborough will give you welcome?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I scarce know what the future will bring for -me, Dicon," was the reply, spoken gravely, yet with -a certain listless indifference not lost upon the -servant; "I have made no plans as yet. Let us see what -this day brings forth first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wager it will fill our pockets anew with gold!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not touch their gold!" spoke Grey with -eyes that suddenly flashed fire. "I have cancelled -all my wagers. I will take nothing at their hands. -I will ride Don Carlos and ride my best for mine -own honour and that of the good steed I shall -bestride; but their money will I not touch. I -have done with all that. Nay, stare not in such -amaze, good Dicon. I have not taken leave of my -senses; rather, I trow, I have come to my better -mind. Now get me somewhat to eat here, and -then we will to the stables to see my beauty. -This match once over, we turn a new page in our -life's story. Who knows what the next will be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not much that Grey could eat. The three -days which had passed since he and Lord Sandford -had come to an understanding, which was well-nigh -a rupture, had left a mark upon him. Moreover -there was a weary ache at his heart which he did -not fully understand, and which was harder to bear -than aught beside. Dimly he knew that it had some -connection with the Lady Geraldine Adair; but he -feared to search too deeply into that matter. She -was as far removed from him as the moon in the -heavens, and he believed her plighted to another, and -that one a man who had stood his friend, even though -suspicion, jealousy, and an imperious temper had -changed friendship into something very like enmity. -Grey never for a moment dreamed of regarding -himself as an aspirant for that fair hand; but he knew -that the motive which was urging him to change the -manner of his life and become a worthier and a -better man was the hope that she might watch his -career, and hear a whisper of his fame or his success; -or that he might win some laurels in the fields of -literature, art, or politics, which he might perchance -in some sort lay at her feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This, however, lurked in the background of his -thoughts. He scarcely owned to himself that he -expected ever to look upon that fair face again; hence -the sensation of heart sickness which had rendered -him well-nigh desperate for a few days, and had -helped him to squander without a qualm the hoard -which his previous successes had accumulated. And -now the end of this mad life of gay folly had come. -He had drained the cup to the dregs, and found it -bitter to the taste. He had neither liking nor respect -for the companions with whom he had associated. -Towards Lord Sandford his feelings were very mixed. -The power of the man was too great to be shaken off -entirely, nor could he despise or dislike him. But -the tie of friendship had snapped asunder. A chasm -had opened between them, and he felt that he was -regarded, if not as a foe, yet as something akin, and -it needed not Dick's words of warning to tell him -that the less he saw of this man in the future the -better it would be for himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sounds of laughter and revelry greeted his ears as -he slipped quietly out towards the paddock and shed -where his horse had been stabled these past weeks, -tended and exercised by Dick, and ready for whatever -demand might be made upon him. He greeted his -master with a neigh of recognition, dropped his nose -in the extended hand, and stood tranquil and content -under Grey's quiet caresses. The glossy coat was -satin smooth, the delicate tracery of veins could be -distinctly seen, and each muscle stood out hard and -taut; there was no superfluous flesh, but a firmness -and excellence of condition that brought a smile of -satisfaction to Grey's face. He turned with a smile -to Dick, who stood by beaming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not much fear of him to-day, eh, Dicon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He would jump the moon, master, if you asked it -of him," was the proud and confident answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do the others look? Have you seen them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty bits of horseflesh every one; and there is -a black stallion of Mr. Artheret's that will take some -beating. But he's too heavy for some of the jumps. -He don't take off fast enough. And he's a nasty -temper too. There's a gray Arab with pace; but he -falls away behind, as they all do. I don't think Don -Carlos will be troubled long by him. None of the -others will take much beating. Pretty to look at, -but not trained for what they've got to do. Lord -Sandford was here yesterday early, looking at the -jumps, and he had several of them made stiffer; but -there's nothing Don Carlos cannot sail over like a bird!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go and see," said Grey. "I will take a -canter on the turf to warm myself to the saddle. -Soh, boy, soh!" as he lightly vaulted to his seat, and -the horse curveted beneath him. "We will take a look -at these obstructions. The stiffer they are, the better -you and I will be pleased—eh, my beauty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick mounted his nag, and rode beside his master -to the course, where the horses were to be matched -against each other when Lord Sandford and his -friends should have finished their merry meal, and be -ready to witness the exhibition. It was a fine stretch -of ground which had been chosen—nearly a mile in -length, and with several natural obstacles, which had -been increased in some cases artificially, to test better -the strength and skill of horse and rider. A stream -of water with rather awkward banks ran across the -course in one place, and in another was a dip in the -ground filled with gorse bushes—a nasty place to get -entangled in, if the horse could not be persuaded to -clear the whole thing with a flying leap. A broken -stone wall with a ditch in front was another obstacle; -and the last was a barrier entirely artificial, made of -hurdles and bushes high enough to tax the mettle of -any horse, though not absolutely insurmountable. -Still it was a formidable object enough, and Grey -looked at it critically, walking Don Carlos up and -down, to let the creature take his own observations -with regard to the leap he was to make.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was here they were busy yesterday, but I could -not see all they did. I was afraid to leave Don -Carlos with so many strangers about. Some of the -grooms with the other horses looked up to mischief. -But I heard them say afterwards that Lord Sandford -had not been satisfied with the field as it was. He -said they must have something that really would be -a test, or the black stallion and Don Carlos were like -to come in together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now a horn blew gaily, and horsemen were -seen approaching from many quarters. In the -neighbourhood of the inn all was bustle and excitement, -whilst from all sides there appeared streams of people -converging to this spot. Some fine carriages had -been driven out from London, with bedecked ladies -eager to witness the contest. Others had stayed the -night in the neighbourhood to be ready; and all the -natives of the place who could get a holiday had -come to gape at the fine folks, and see the grand -gentlemen racing their own horses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed the hour for the contest had well-nigh -come. Grey could see that the other horses were -assembling, their riders decked in every colour of the -rainbow, quite eclipsing the quiet and workmanlike -suit of buff which he wore. But Grey's taste had -always disinclined him to gaudy colours. The soft -leather, finely chased and stamped in gold, pleased his -eye more than rich-hued cloths or velvets. His -breeches were of white buckskin cut by Lord Sandford's -own tailor, and he wore long boots fitted with -silver spurs, albeit he scarcely ever had need of the -latter when he bestrode Don Carlos. His scarf was -of white silk fringed with gold, and his only -adornment was a cravat of fine lace, fastened with a -diamond clasp. His cocked hat matched his buff coat, -and was adorned with a white plume. Altogether, as -he rode forward to his place, it would have been hard -to find a fault with his dress or person; and the -ladies behind their fans audibly praised his elegant -figure, graceful seat, and distinguished and handsome -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey, all unconscious of the favour bestowed upon -him, rode up and saluted courteously the gentlemen -who were to meet him and each other in rivalry. -Lord Sandford, splendidly mounted, was to act as -judge at the winning post. Another of his friends -was to be starter; and gentlemen were posted at -various points along the course to see that all the -rules laid down were observed, and that no rider -deviated from the well-pegged-out route prescribed -for all. The spectators scattered hither and thither, -taking up stations wherever their fancy prompted. -The course seemed marked out by a glittering border -extending down both sides. The sun shone brilliantly -in the sky, and all nature seemed in gladsome mood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey cast a keen look at the seven rival steeds as -they were brought into line for the start. He picked -out in a moment the two of whom Dicon had spoken, -and saw that he had judged well. Then he gave his -whole mind to the task in hand, checked with hand -and voice the prancing of the excited Don Carlos, and -brought him up to his appointed place docile and -motionless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The word was given, but the black stallion had -bounded off a few seconds too soon, and had to be -recalled. A second start was spoiled by two other -competitors, who suddenly reared at each other, and -strove to fight. One iron hoof, indeed, inflicted such -a wound upon the shoulder of his neighbour that that -horse had to be taken away limping and bleeding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was trying to all, horses and riders alike; but -at the third start all got off, though Grey saw that -again the black stallion had made his bound a second -too soon. This gave him a few yards the advantage, -which, as his rider pressed him hard from the first, -and his temper was evidently up, he increased in the -next minute to more than a length. The Arab and -Don Carlos were neck and neck, and sailed over the -first easy jump side by side, the stallion having cleared -it with a tremendous bound a couple of seconds earlier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The water jump was next, and it was obvious that -one spot offered greater advantages to the horse than -any other. The stallion made for this spot with a -rush, took off and bounded clear over, just as Don -Carlos and the Arab came rushing up neck and neck, -each rider desirous of the advantage of the sound -bank. Grey set his teeth and glanced at his -adversary. A collision at the leap might be fatal to one -or both, so far as the race went. His rival would -not budge an inch—that he saw. With a muttered -oath between his teeth, he pulled his left rein, and -used his knees. Don Carlos felt, and instantly -understood: swerving slightly, he gathered himself together, -and rose magnificently where the water was wider -and the bank less safe; but he landed safely, and -with a hardly perceptible scramble found his feet -again, and amid the plaudits of the people raced on -after the Arab, who, having got a momentary -advantage, was now slightly in advance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The black stallion had just reached the downward -dip leading to the deep ditch filled with gorse bushes. -His rider had had perforce to pull him up somewhat, -lest he should slip and fall, for the ground was sandy -and treacherous. But Don Carlos had been born and -bred to this sort of wild work, and dashing onwards -and downwards with the agility of a deer, came neck -and neck with his rival, and having passed the Arab, -cleared with a bound the treacherous gully, landing -true and safe upon the opposite side. The Arab -followed in his tracks, his rider taking advantage -of the lead given; but the black stallion slipped and -snorted, could not be made to try the leap till another -of the horses came up and took it, after which he -sprang across with a vicious energy which tried the -horsemanship of his rider, and tore like a wild thing -after the leading pair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These had cleared one after the other the wall -and ditch; but the Arab was showing signs of -distress, whilst Don Carlos looked fresh and eager as -at the start. There now remained only a quarter -of a mile of smooth sward, and then the last critical -jump; and Grey, knowing himself first, and not -knowing what had betided his rivals, sailed happily -onward, secure of victory, though he heard behind him -the thud of flying horse hoofs, and knew that the -black stallion was not beaten yet. It was he who -snorted with such excitement and fury, and seemed -to awaken thunders with his iron-shod hoofs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One glance over his shoulder, and Grey passed his -whip very lightly across the neck of Don Carlos. -The gallant animal sprang forward like an arrow -from a bow, showing how well within himself he -had been travelling so far. The sound of other -beating hoofs was fainter now. Grey looked keenly -at the great obstacle looming up in his path, and -measured the height at various places, deciding where -the leap could best be taken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He felt the tension of the muscles beneath him. -Don Carlos was gathering himself together for the -leap. He would not fail, falter, or refuse. The -great mass seemed rushing up against him. He felt -the slackening with which Don Carlos faced his task, -the motion of his flanks as he took off and rose. -Then what was it happened? The sound of a click, -sharp and clear—a sickening sensation of falling, -sinking, struggling, plunging. Grey felt for a moment -as though the end had come. He and his horse -seemed falling into the very bowels of the earth. -A black shadow almost overhead showed him that -the stallion had cleared the barrier, and the air was -full of shouts, screams, cheers, and cries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next moment he felt strong hands lifting and -dragging him upwards. Dick's white face looked -into his own, and the first words he heard were -hissed in his ear by his faithful henchman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Foul play, foul play, my master. That ditch was -dug and concealed—ay, and more than concealed; it -has been an old well at some time, and it will open -with a spring. You have been grossly tricked and -cozened. It has been a trap cleverly laid and baited. -But let me only get at them—my Lord Sandford—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick almost choked in his fury; but Grey was -now on his feet, and his one thought was for the -good horse, who had dropped downwards into this -unseen, unsuspected pit, and was gasping in affright, -but might possibly have escaped serious injury. He -himself felt little ill effects, having had a marvellous -escape. But his soul was stirred within him, and in -getting out the horse he saw plainly that Dick had -been right, and that some sort of old trap-door -concealed an opening into the ground which might have -been at one time a well, but was now silted up with -sand. By luring the foremost rider to this particular -spot to take the leap, any astute enemy aware of the -nature of the ground could almost certainly ensure -his overthrow and defeat; and Grey had his -suspicions that Lord Sandford had hoped that he might -then and there break his neck—a thing which might -very well have happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a crowd round the spot now, and great -horror was expressed by many at sight of the -unsuspected well, no voice being louder than Lord -Sandford's in proclaiming astonishment and indignation. -But Grey took no notice of the clamour, only busying -himself about his horse; and presently, with some -difficulty, the sagacious and docile creature was got -out, and it appeared that no limb was broken, though -one hock was deeply cut, and one shoulder badly -strained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey stood in silent thought awhile, his hand upon -the neck of his favourite, who stood with drooping -head and dejected mien, as though wondering whether -he would ever be whole and sound again. Dick was -binding up the wound, his face like a thunder-cloud. -A knot of persons of all ranks stood watching at a -little distance; but Grey had courteously waved away -all proffers of help, and indicated that he desired no -attentions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dicon," he said in a low tone, "we must now -part for a while. Don Carlos will need you more -than I. He is now my sole fortune, and must be -respected as such. Take him and your own nag, -and walk them both by easy stages to Hartsbourne. -There are paddocks enough and to spare, and I -surely have the right to pasture my horse in one; -but if the thing should come to my kinsman's ears, -give him what is due in money, and I will repay -you. Old Jock Jarvis will be your friend. He will -rejoice in your company and give you house-room -with him, and it is not so far but that I can get -news of you from time to time. Your good horse -will bring you to London in three hours or less any -day you have a mind to come; and you can watch for -me what goes on yonder, and bring me word again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a grief to Dick to part from his master; -but he saw the need, and he loved the horse only -second to Grey himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will do your behest, master. Nay, I want no -money; I have plenty for all my needs. I too have -made some modest wealth here in this great city. -Only tell me where I may find you, and I will be -gone, and do what can be done for the poor beast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall always get news of me at Wills' Coffee -House, good Dicon," was the answer. "Where I go -and how I live, I know not yet; but I will leave -word there for you. So now, farewell. I turn a new -page in my life from this day forth."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-old-lion"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"THE OLD LION."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Grey Dumaresq, having settled matters with -his servant, and adjusted the disarray of his -own dress and person, turned towards a group of -men who were standing round Lord Sandford, -making believe to laugh and jest, but showing some -vague symptoms of uneasiness as they cast sidelong -glances in the direction of their erstwhile comrade.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey walked straight up to Lord Sandford, and -looked him full in the eyes. Did the glance of the -other quail ever so little before his? He thought so, -but could scarce be certain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My lord," he said, "I have to thank you for -many acts of kindness and courtesy, and a certain -liberality of treatment which I have received at your -hands and within your doors. In taking my farewell, -I wish freely to acknowledge all this debt. But -other matters which I need not specify, yet which -are well understood by your lordship, have transpired -to change the relations betwixt us; and I wish to -add that I desire to be beholden to no man. In the -rooms allotted to me in your lordship's house there -is a quantity of wearing apparel, jewels, trinkets, for -which I have no more use. I pray you have them -sold, and the amount thus realized will reimburse you -for all charges you have been at in my maintenance -during the time I have dwelt beneath your roof. -That is all I have to say.—Gentlemen, I wish you -a very good day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And lifting his hat with quiet dignity and grace, -Grey made them a general salute and turned upon -his heel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Lord Sandford's voice came thundering after him. -"Do you desire to insult me, sir? Am I a beggarly -inn-keeper, that I should sell a guest's belongings -to pay my bill? What do you mean by such -words? Do you desire that I should demand -satisfaction for them at your hands?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey did not know whether this man desired to -fasten a quarrel upon him or not, and, truth to tell, -he did not care. He just turned his head over his -shoulder, and threw back an answer in tones of -scarcely veiled contempt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is for your lordship to decide. I shall have -pleasure in giving any satisfaction demanded at any -time, and in any place appointed. For the rest, a -man who has sought to compass the death of a -comrade by a foul trick need scarcely fear to soil -his hands by the touch of his gold. Again I wish -you good-day, my lord."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And without so much as turning his head again, -Grey Dumaresq walked off, his head held high, -neither observing nor returning the many salutes and -bright arch glances shot at him from the lane of -bystanders through which he needs must pass, but -walking like a man in a dream, and so disappearing from -view along the white road which led Londonwards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Round Lord Sandford men were buzzing like bees -disturbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Insolent young jackanapes!" "What did he -mean?" "What was his motive in such an -insult?" "What will you do, my lord?" "Whither -has he gone? Whither will he go?" "Is it true -that he is ruined?" "He has lost his horse, at least. -None will give him a score of guineas for the beast -now." "How did it chance?" "Was it an -accident?" "What meant he by his words?" All were -pouring out these and like questions; but there was -none to answer them, till Lord Sandford himself -spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The fellow's wits are gone astray," he cried in -his loud, dominating tones. "It is the Dumaresq -blood. Sir Hugh was just such another—mad as -a March hare half his time, flinging his gold to the -winds, and quarrelling with every man he met. Like -father, like son. It has been coming on for days. -I misdoubted me if ever he would ride this race. -He came and told me he must reform. That was ever -his father's cry, and he would disappear into the -country for a while, and reappear again as gay as -ever. 'Tis the same with the son. I saw it then, -and I strove to combat the madness; but 'tis ill -dealing with the lunatic. You see what we get for -our pains! Tush! let the fellow alone. I did wrong -to answer him. Let him go his own way, and we -will think of him no more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Lord Sandford, with a heavy cloud upon his -brow, and a look about the corners of his mouth -which warned those about him to say no more, but -leave matters as they were, flung away from them, -and made his way back alone to the inn, from which -he was presently seen to issue forth in his gorgeous -chariot, driving furiously along the road which led -to St. Albans.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His boon companions, thus left to their own devices, -went over to the spot where the strange thing had -befallen at the race, and where the country folk had -gathered with shakings of the head and questionings -beneath their breath; and there, plain for all men to -see, was the yawning hole with the open trap -hanging down, and the marks of the heavy fall of the -good horse, whose escape with whole bones was little -short of a miracle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An old countryman was holding forth to a knot -of eager questioners, now swelled by Lord Sandford's -friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mind well when there was a house here; 'twas -pulled down when I were a young chap. And the -well must ha' bin hereabouts. That old trap has -been in the ground ever since I can mind; but there -be no water now, and the sand has pretty nigh silted -it up. I've a-looked in many a time, and the hole -gets less and less deep. When I saw them setting -up the brushwood and things here, I made sure they -had covered the trap well. I walked about it, but -never saw sign of it. If I'd a thought of danger, -I'd ha' told one of the fine folks. I suppose they -never seed it. The grass and stuff do grow long -and rank this time o' year. And so the gentleman's -horse trod on it, and it gave way with him. Mercy -me, but 'tis a wonder he didn't break his neck then -and there!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford's comrades looked each other in -the eyes, and drew a little away. All knew that -something strange had passed upon him of late, and -that there was some rupture betwixt him and the -man who had but lately accused him of seeking to -compass his death.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he know?" "Was it plot or plan of his?" -whispered one and another; but none could give the answer.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A wild, wet September day was drawing to its -close, amid pelting squalls of cold rain, when a tall -young man, gaunt and hollow-eyed, pushed his way -into a small coffee-house in an obscure thoroughfare -somewhere in the region of Drury Lane, and -took a seat in a dark corner as near to the stove as -he could get, for he looked pinched with cold, and -his plain and rather threadbare black suit was pretty -well wet through. As soon as he was seated, he drew -from his breast a roll of paper, which he regarded -with solicitude. That at least was dry, and he heaved -a sigh that sounded like one of satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this narrow street the daylight had completely -faded, though it was not yet six o'clock. The room -was furthermore darkened by clouds of tobacco smoke -which the guests were puffing forth. The smell of -coffee mingled with the ranker fumes of the tobacco, -and the clink of cup and spoon made ceaseless -accompaniment to the talk, which went on in a -continuous stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey (for it was he) leaned his head on his hand -wearily, and fell into something like a doze as he sat -in his shadowy corner. He was exhausted in mind -and in body. He was faint with hunger, and yet -half afraid to order food; for his funds were -dwindling almost to the vanishing point, and as yet he -had found no means of replenishing his exchequer. -But he had not been able to resist the temptation -to escape from the buffetings of the tempest, and -when the boy in attendance upon the guests came -to ask his pleasure, he ordered some coffee and bread, -and devoured it with a ravenous appetite when it -was set before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The pangs of hunger stayed, if not appeased, he -began to look about him, and to wonder into what -manner of company he had thrust himself. He had -never before been inside this house, though he had, -in the first days of his new career, taken his meals -in some of the numerous coffee or chocolate houses, -or the taverns which abounded throughout the town. -Latterly he had generally bought his food at the -cheapest market, and had eaten it in the attic to -which he had removed himself and his few -belongings. He was beginning to wonder how long he -should be able even to retain that humble abode as -his own. Dame Fortune's smiles seemed quite to -have deserted him, and abject poverty stared him -grimly in the face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A smoking lamp had been brought in, and hung -overhead, lighting up the faces of the company with -its yellow glare. There was something strange and -Rembrandt-like in the effect of the picture upon -which Grey's eyes rested. Leaning back dreamily -with his head against the wall, he could almost -fancy himself back in one of those foreign picture -galleries, in which heretofore he had delighted, and -where so many hours of his time had been spent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this was a living picture, shifting, changing, -breaking up into groups and re-forming again; and -the hum of talk went on unceasingly, as one after -another took up the word and launched forth his -opinions, generally in florid and flowery language, -and with much gesticulation and indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What first struck Grey as strange was the anger -which seemed to possess all these men. That they -were in no good case was well-nigh proved by the -shabbiness of their dress, and by the fact of their -being gathered in this very humble and cheap place -of resort, which would not tempt any but those in -adverse circumstances. But over and above their -poverty, they seemed to be railing at neglect or -injustice of some sort, and ever and anon would break -out into virulent abuse of some person or persons, -whose names were unknown to Grey, but who evidently -were characters well known to the others of -the company.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no such thing as justice left, or purity -of taste, or any such thing!" shouted a handsome, -well-proportioned fellow, whose face had attracted -Grey's notice several times, and seemed dimly -familiar to him. "Look at the mouthing -mountebanks that walk the boards now! They strut -like peacocks, they gibber like apes. They have -neither voice, nor figure, nor talent, nor grace. But, -forsooth, because some fine dame has smiled upon -them, or they are backed by a nobleman's patronage, -they can crow it over the rest of us like a cock -upon his dunghill, and we, who have the talent and -the gifts, may rot like rats in our holes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shame! shame! shame!" cried an admiring chorus.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at me!" thundered the young man, his -eyes flashing. "Who dares say I cannot act? Have -I not held spellbound, hanging on my lips, whole -houses of beauty and fashion? Have I lost my -skill or cunning? Has my voice or has my grace -departed from me? Wherefore, then, do I sit here -idle and hungry, whilst men not fit to black my -boots hold the boards and fill their pouches with -gold? Why such injustice, I say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A chorus of indignation again arose; but out of -the shadows came a deep voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The answer is easy, friend Lionel; arrogance and -drink have been the cause of your downfall. How -could any manager continue to engage you? How -many times has it happened that you have come to -the theatre sodden with drink? How many -representations have you spoiled by your bestial folly? -They were patient with you. Oh yes, they were very -patient; for they knew your gifts and recognized -them. But you met friendly rebuke or warning -with haughtiness and scorn. You would listen to -no counsel; you would heed no warnings. The end -should have been plain to you from the beginning, an -you would not mend your ways. I told you how it -needs must be; and now the time has come when -you see it for yourself. Worse men are put in -the parts that you excelled in, because they can -be depended upon. No drunkard can ever become -great. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Lionel Field."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the sound of this new voice, speaking out of -the shadows of the ingle-nook, a great hush had -fallen upon the room. Grey leaned forward to obtain -a view of the speaker, and the firelight played upon -the striking features and iron-gray hair of a very -remarkable-looking old man of leonine aspect, whose -voice was of that penetrating quality which makes -itself heard without being raised; and it was plain -that something in the personality of the man lifted -him above his fellows, for all listened in silence whilst -he spoke, and even the arrogant young actor looked -for the moment abashed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is it?" whispered Grey to the man next -him; and the answer came readily, though spoken in -a cautious whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His name is Jonathan Wylde. Once he, too, was -a famous actor; but long illness crippled his limbs, -and he has fallen into poverty. He is always called -the Old Lion, and methinks the name suits him -well. He is a very lion for courage, else would he -not dare to rebuke Master Lionel Field. For he is -one who is ready with his fist, or with knife or -bludgeon, and it is ill work meeting him when he is -in his cups."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey looked with interest and attention at the old -man in the shadows; but he was leaning back again, -and spoke no more. The talk surged round him -again from the rest; they spoke of the plays that -were being enacted at the various theatres, and of -those who were playing the various </span><em class="italics">rôles</em><span>. Some of -them stood up and rolled forth bits of Congreve's -witty and sparkling dramas, and disputed as to -whether the "Old Bachelor" or the "Way of the -World" were his happiest effort; whilst some declared -that the "Double Dealer" was the best of all. They -talked excitedly of the revival at Drury Lane of -Farquhar's "Love and a Bottle," which had scored -such a success some fourteen or fifteen years -previously. And there were some who lauded and some -who depreciated Colley Cibber and his "Careless -Husband" and "Love's Last Shift," which were favourites -throughout the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a new world to Grey; but he listened with -a certain fascination, for the drama had always -attracted him, and he watched the gestures of the -actors and listened to their mouthing periods with -something between wonder and amusement. He -could understand that these men had been failures. -Only Lionel Field appeared to have any true histrionic -gift, and the cause of his downfall was plain to be -read after the speech of the "Old Lion." From time -to time, as the light flickered upon the striking face -in the ingle, Grey caught a fine-lipped smile upon it, -and once or twice he thought the old actor's eyes -met his in a gleam of humour. But of that he -could not be sure—it might be but the trick of -the firelight; and presently wearied nature asserted -itself, and the young man passed from drowsiness -to actual sleep, and knew nothing more till a -sharp grip upon his arm roused him to a sense of -his surroundings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the tapster who thus shook him; and when -he opened his eyes, Grey saw—or thought, at -least—that the room was empty. What the time was he -had no idea; but it must be late, and he rose hastily -to his feet with a muttered apology at having -overstayed the closing time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment there emerged out of the shadows -of the ingle-nook a bent figure, dignified even in its -infirmity, and the voice which Grey had heard before -spoke in quietly authoritative accents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring hither coffee and a dish of eggs for two. -The wind and rain yet howl around the house. This -gentleman will sup with me ere we go home. Go -and serve us quickly, for we have both a good -stomach, and would eat ere we depart hence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tapster vanished quickly to do the bidding of -the guests, and Grey turned a wondering glance upon -the Old Lion, whose face, framed in its shaggy gray -hair, looked more leonine than ever, the bright eyes -shining out of deep caverns from under bushy brows, -the rugged features full of power, not unmixed with -a curious underlying ferocity. But the glance bent -upon Grey was kindly enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, young man; I would know more of -you. I have a gift for reading faces. I have marked -yours ever since you entered this room. Tell me -your name. Tell me of yourself, for you were not -born to the state to which you have now fallen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Grey," was the ready answer. Grey -had dropped his title and patronymic with his fallen -fortunes, and used his mother's name alone. "My -father was a country gentleman. I was gently -reared, and was at one time a scholar at Oxford, where -I dreamed many dreams. Afterwards I travelled -abroad, returning to find my father dead and my home -in the hands of a kinsman to whom it was mortgaged -by my father. The small fortune I received I -squandered foolishly in a few weeks of gay living -with young bloods of the town. I wakened from my -dream to find myself well-nigh penniless, disgusted -alike with myself and those I had called my friends. -I have ever been something ambitious. I misdoubt -me I am a fool; but I did think that I might win -laurels upon the field of literature. I have never lost -the trick of rhyming, and jotting down such things -as pleased my fancy, whether in prose or in verse. -Do I weary you with my tale?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir—far from it. Let me hear you to the -end. I did see you take forth a roll of paper from -your breast as you came in. That action, together -with your face, told me much. You have the gift of -a creative fancy. You have written a poem or a play."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Neither the one nor the other, but a romance," -answered Grey, the colour flushing his face as it -flushes that of a maiden when the love of her heart -is named by her. "I scarce know how to call it, but -methinks it savours more of a romance than of aught -besides. When I was rudely awakened from my -pleasure-loving life, saw the folly and futility thereof, -and desired to amend, I did take a quiet lodging high -up in a building off Holborn, and there I did set -myself to the task, and right happy was I in it. I had -a score of gold pieces still left me, and my needs I did -think modest; though, looking back, they seem many -to me now. The weeks fled by, and my work reached -its close. When my romance was finished, my money -was all but spent. For the past week or more I -have been seeking a publisher for it. In my folly I -did think that it would bring me gold as fast as I -wanted. My eyes have been rudely opened these last days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Old Lion nodded his head many times.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You made a mistake in seeking a publisher, -young sir. You should first have sought a patron."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey's face flushed slightly, and he hesitated before -he spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Others have said the same to me; but there are -difficulties. I have not learned to go cap in hand to -cringe for patronage to the great ones of the earth." But, -as Grey saw a slight smile flicker in the old -man's eyes, he added rather hastily, "And then I -desire not to be known and recognized by those whom -I did know ha my former life. There is scarce an -antechamber in those fine houses where patrons -dwell where I might not meet the curious and -impertinent regard of those who would know me again. -That I will not brook." And now Grey's eyes flashed, -thinking of Lord Sandford, and how he would chuckle -to hear how low his rival had fallen. "No; if I am -to succeed at all, I must needs do so without a patron. -If I fail, there is one resource left. Able-bodied -paupers are sent to the wars. I can go thither and fight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again a smile flickered over the Old Lion's face; -but the tapster was entering with the smoking -viands, and the gleam in Grey's eyes bespoke the -wolf within him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Set to, my friend, and make a good meal. When -we have cleared the trenchers, you shall come with -me to my lodging. I would hear the end of your -tale; but that can wait till after supper."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-lion-s-den"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE LION'S DEN.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Welcome to the Lion's Den!" spoke the -man Wylde, as he threw open the door -of a room which he had unlocked, and kicking a -smouldering log upon the hearth, evoked a cheery -blaze, by the aid of which he lighted a lamp that -swung over a table littered with books, papers, and -quills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey stepped within the threshold, and looked -about him with curious eyes. The house they had -entered a few minutes before was a tall and narrow -one in Harpe Alley, leading from Shoe Lane. It -was not an old house, for it came within the area of -the great fire of fifty years back, and had been -rebuilt, like the whole of the surrounding buildings, -with greater speed than discretion. Grey had once -come across Sir Christopher Wren in his other life, -and had talked with him of the short-sighted policy -observed in the rebuilding of the city. The great -architect declared that had his plans been carried out, -London would have been the finest city in the world: -but the haste and false economy of the citizens and -city companies had thwarted his plans, and the old -lines of narrow and crooked streets were kept as -before, to the cost of succeeding generations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This house had been hastily run up, like those -surrounding it, and the tempest from without rattled -and shook the walls and windows as though to drive -them in. But the room itself, though no more than -an attic, bore an air of comfort very pleasant to the -eyes of the homeless Grey, whose own quarters only -contained the barest necessities of life; for there were -some rough shelves full of books in one corner, and a -rug before the fire gave a look of comfort to the -place. Two armchairs of rude pattern, but furnished -with down cushions, seemed to invite repose; -and everything was scrupulously clean, even to the -boards of the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'A poor thing, but mine own,'" spoke the Old -Lion, with his grim smile, as he motioned to Grey to -take one chair, and he himself pulled up the other. -"I have dwelt here two years and more now, and -I have not been unhappy; albeit I never thought to -end my days in a garret, as belike I shall do now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fortune has been hard upon you," spoke Grey -earnestly. "You have the gifts and the powers; -it is cruel that your limbs should have become -crippled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must take the rough and the smooth of life -as we find it," answered the other. "I have had my -moments of rebellion—I have them still; but I seek -the consolations of philosophy; and I have never yet -wanted for bread or shelter. But there be times -when the future looks dark before me. Those who -remember me, and pity my misfortunes, drop away -one by one. I lacked not for patrons at the first. -When I could not longer tread the boards, I was -ofttimes engaged to make men laugh or weep at -some gay rout at a nobleman's house. Then, too, -my jests and quips were in request at gay -supper-parties, and I was paid to set the table in a roar, -which in all sooth was not difficult when the -wine-bottle was going round and round. Oh, I knew gay -times for many a year after my stage career closed. -But patrons have died off one by one. I am more -crippled than I was, and the young wits are pushing -to the front, whilst the Old Lion has been crowded -out. My pen still serves me in a measure. I can turn -an epigram, or write a couplet, or even make shift to -pen a sonnet that lacks not the true ring. Grist yet -comes to the mill, but more and more slowly. There -come moments when I wonder what will be the -end of the Old Lion's career—the poorhouse, or a -death by slow starvation in some garret!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," cried Grey almost fiercely; "that would -be shame indeed. Surely, if nothing better turn up, -there must be places of refuge for fallen genius. -Have not almshouses been built, again and again, by -the well-disposed for such men as sickness has laid -aside? You smile, but in sooth it is so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, and how many are there to claim the -benefits of pious founders? Yet no matter. I -brought you not here to talk of my troubles, but -of yours. That romance of which you speak—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would seem the world cares little for such -things. I did hear the same tale everywhere. Was -it a pamphlet I had to give them, a lampoon upon -some great man, an attack against the Tories, the -Whigs, the Dissenters? If so, they would read it; -for there was great eagerness amongst the people to -read such things, and no matter what side was -attacked, there were hundreds eager to buy and to -read. But a romance—no; that was a mistake -altogether. A writer of successful pamphlets might -perhaps find readers for a merry tale, or even a -romance; but for an unknown aspirant to fame—no, -that was another matter. No one would buy it; -no one would even read it; though there were one -or two who took it and glanced through some pages, -praised the style and the easy flow of words, and -advised me to take to pamphleteering, promising that -they would read anything like that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is it, that is it!" cried the Old Lion, rising -and pacing up and down the room with his halting -stride. "Write a filthy lampoon, a scurrilous libel, -a fiery diatribe against any great or notable man, -and all the world will read and set themselves -agog to know the writer. Look at Swift, with his -'Tale of a Tub;' look at De Foe, with his crowd of -pamphlets—men of talent, I do not doubt or deny, but -full of gall and bitterness. Yet they are read by all -the world. Fame, if not fortune, has come to them, and -fortune will doubtless follow. The late King, they -say, would have made Swift a bishop. The Queen -will not: his ribald wit disgusts her; but he has -admirers and patrons everywhere. It is the bold -and unscrupulous who flourish like the grass of the -field. True poetry and literary beauty are not asked, -or even desired. A pen dipped in gall is a pen -dipped in gold in these days of party strife. And -the genius that wields not this bitter pen sits in -dust and ashes, asking bread, and that well-nigh -in vain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How should I write these party diatribes—I -who know little of their cries? Whig or Tory, Tory -or Whig—what care I? The Tory of one Parliament -is the Whig of the next. Have not Lords -Marlborough and Godolphin gone over to the Whigs? -The Queen herself, they say, is changing slowly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, the Queen herself will never change!" cried -Wylde, with an emphatic gesture. "The Duchess has -changed, and she seeks to use her influence with the -Queen to make her change also, and give up her Tory -advisers altogether. But she will not succeed. The -Queen may be timid and gentle, but she has all her -father's tenacity and obstinacy. Let my Lady of -Marlborough look to it! She may strain the cord -to breaking point. Already they say that the new -favourite, Mrs. Masham, is ousting her kinswoman, -the Duchess, from the foremost place in the Queen's -affections. Favourites have fallen ere this through -too great arrogance. The victories of Ramillies and -Oudenarde, and the successes that have followed, -make the Duke the idol of the nation and the -favourite of the Queen yet; but the day may -come when this may change, and then the high -Tories may come in once more with a rush."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be sorry for the Duke to lose favour," -spoke Grey thoughtfully. "I did see him once, and -had speech with him after the battle of Ramillies, -and a more gracious and courtly gentleman it has -never been my lot to meet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the Old Lion's eyes flashed fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have seen and had speech with the Duke on -the field of Ramillies? You saw the battle, or -something of it? Speak! Tell me all! I must hear -this tale. It may mean much to us both."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In sooth it is little I can tell you of the battle, -for I was in the thick of it myself. It was by -accident that my servant and I came upon the rival -armies; and another happy accident gave me the -chance of doing a small service for the Duke. After -the battle, when we were hard by Louvain, he -called me to him, and spoke many gracious words. -I would fain hope that some day I may see him again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You had speech with him? You saw his manner -and his port? Tell me—show me—how did he -carry himself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey rose to his feet, laughing. He humoured -the whim of the old actor. He was not lacking -in the histrionic gift, and threw himself into his -part with good will. He uttered quick commands, as -though to his officers; he threw out his arms, as -though directing one man here, another there. He -recalled numbers of words spoken by the General, -and these he reproduced faithfully and with an -excellent imitation of Marlborough's polished, -courteous, yet commanding air. Then he let his face -soften, and addressed the old man as he himself had -been addressed, with words of thanks and with -promises of friendship. Finally, throwing off the -mask, he broke into a laugh, and was astonished at -the eager change which had come upon the Old Lion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Boy!" he cried, with a new access of energy, "I -trow I see for both of us a way to fame and fortune."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey's eyes lighted as he eagerly asked his meaning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is soon told. Have you heard how, after -the victory of Blenheim, none could be found to hymn -the praises of the great General till the poet Addison -was introduced to notice, and penned his immortal -lines? Now, since the victory of Ramillies, I have -burned with desire to show the world by somewhat -more than verse alone the power and genius of -England's mighty soldier. See here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man rose and crossed to his table, where he -fetched from a drawer a scroll covered with writing, -which he put in the hands of his companion. Grey -saw that it was a dialogue cast in dramatic form, and -though he could not read it then and there, he -could see, by casting his eyes over it, that there -were many very fine periods in it, and that it was -filled with descriptive passages of some great battle, -and the energy and glory of the General in command. -He raised his eyes inquiringly to the impassioned face -of the author, which was working with excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See you not something of the form? It is a -dramatic interlude. It should be played upon the -stage during the intervals of the play. Time sits -aloft, aged and grim, his scythe in his hand, his -hour-glass beside him, and he speaks of the decay of -mankind—that the world's greatness is vanishing, its -men of genius growing ever fewer and fewer. That -is my part. I take the </span><em class="italics">rôle</em><span> of Time. To him then -enters one in the guise of youth—one in the flush -of manhood's prime—one who has seen great and -doughty deeds, and comes to rehearse the same in -the ears of old Time, to bid him change his tune, to -tell him that giants yet live upon the earth. This -youth comes with songs of victory; he speaks of -what he has seen; he describes in burning words -and glowing colours that last great fight wherein -England's General put to flight the hosts of the -haughty monarch of France. For months has this -been written; for months have I gone about seeking -the man to take the part of youth and manhood. -But I have sought in vain. All those whom I -would have chosen have other work to do, and did -but laugh at me. Those who would gladly do my -bidding, I will none of. You saw how they did -mouth and rant to-night, thinking to show their -talent, when they only displayed their imbecile folly. -But here have I found the very man for whom I -have long waited. You have youth, beauty—that -manly beauty which transcends, to my thinking, -the ephemeral loveliness of woman; you have the -gift; you have seen the great hero: you have -caught the very trick of his words and speech. Oh, -I know it! Once did I hear him address the House -of Lords, and when you spoke I seemed to see and -hear him again. The great world of fashion will go -mad over you. We shall draw full houses; we -shall succeed. I know it! I feel it! The Old -Lion is not dead yet! He shall roar again in his -native forest. Say, boy, will you be my helper in -this thing? And in the gains which we shall make -we will share and share alike."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a very different sort of fame from -anything Grey had pictured for himself, and for a -moment he hesitated; for he realized that were this -dramatic sketch to take hold of the imagination of -the town, and draw fashionable audiences, he could -scarcely avoid recognition, disguise himself as he -might. But as against this there was the pressing -need of the moment. He was well-nigh penniless; -his romance seemed likely to be but so much waste -paper. He was hiding now even from Dick, who -periodically visited London to see him, lest the -honest fellow should insist upon maintaining him -from his own small hoard. Here was an opening, -as it seemed, to something like prosperity; and the -alternative of being drafted into the army as a -pauper recruit was scarcely sufficiently attractive to -weigh in the balance. Moreover, there was something -so earnest and pathetic in the glance bent upon -him by the Old Lion that he had not the heart to say -him nay, and he held out his hand with a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will be your helper; and as for the gains, let -them be yours, and you shall give me what wage -I merit. The play is yours, the thought is yours: -it is for you to reap the harvest. I am but the -labourer—worthy of his hire, and no more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The compact was sealed, and the old man then -insisted that Grey should take his bed for the night, -as he must sit up and remodel his play upon lines -indicated by the young man, who had seen the field -of Ramillies and the disposition of troops. Grey -furnished him with sundry diagrams and notes, and -left him perfectly happy at his task, which would -doubtless occupy him during the night, whilst the -weary guest slumbered peacefully upon the humble -bed in the little alcove beyond the larger room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Grey awoke next morning, the sun was -shining; a frugal but sufficient meal was spread -upon the table; a fire was blazing cheerily upon the -hearth; and there was the Old Lion, with his -manuscript before him, muttering beneath his breath, and -throwing out his hand in telling gesture, making so -fine a picture with his leonine face and shaggy mane -of hair that Grey watched him awhile in silence -before advancing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-morrow, and welcome to you, my son," was -the greeting be received. "I have had a beautiful -night. The muse was hot upon me. The rounded -periods seemed to flow from my pen without effort. -Let us to breakfast first; then shall you read what -I have written, and together we will amend it, if -need be. But first shall you remove hither from -that unsavoury lodging of which you did speak. -Here is money: pay your reckoning, and bring -hither any goods and chattels you may value. We -must dwell together these next weeks. We will -work hard, and before the week closes I will have -some manager here to listen to our rendering of this -scene. We will have the world crowding to see and -hear us yet!—King Fortune, I salute thee, and I -thank thee from my heart that thou didst send this -goodly youth to me, and didst prompt my heart -from the first to take note of him and seek his -friendship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The removal of Grey's simple belongings took but -little time, and lucky did he feel himself to be able -to call this comfortable abode his home. A small -attic upon the same floor of the house made him a -sleeping chamber at very small cost, and his days -were spent in the sunny south garret, which was -called the Lion's Den; and there they studied, and -wrote, and rehearsed this eulogy upon the Duke, -and the prowess of the English arms, the old man -introducing here and there allusions and innuendoes -which Grey scarcely understood, but which Wylde -declared would bring down thunders of applause -from the house—as, indeed, proved to be the case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had a faint misgiving at the first that no -manager might be forthcoming to admit the dialogue -to his boards; but there the old actor knew his -ground. He succeeded in inviting two of the most -successful managers to listen to a performance in -the attic, without the accessories which would add -much to the effect upon the stage; and even so the -scene proved so telling, the acting of the Old Lion -was so superb in its quiet dignity, and Grey (who -had learned and studied patiently and diligently) -went through his part with such spirit, such power, -such dramatic energy, that even his instructor was -surprised at his success, and the managers exchanged -glances of astonishment and pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was just the sort of piece to catch the public -favour at this juncture. Marlborough was still the -idol of the nation, and might be expected home some -time before the winter closed—perhaps before -Christmas itself. The nation was discussing how to do -him honour, and would flock to see a piece wherein -his praises were so ably sung.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With a wig such as the Duke wears, and with -military dress, Mr. Grey could be made to look the -very image of the great General," cried one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has something the same class of face—handsome, -regular features, grace of action and bearing. -He does but want to be transformed from fair to -dark, and his acting of the Duke will bring down -veritable thunders of applause from all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then began a gratifying rivalry as to terms, -in which the Old Lion sustained his part with dignity -and firmness. Both managers desired to secure this -interlude for their respective theatres, and at the -last it was settled that the performance was to be -given two nights a week at Drury Lane, and two at -Sadler's Wells, the astute old actor retaining the -right to make his own terms at private houses upon -the two remaining nights of the working week. -The costumes were to be provided by the managers, -but were to be the property of the actors, who would -undertake to replace them should any harm befall -them at private representations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When these matters had been satisfactorily settled, -and certain other details arranged, the great men took -their leave in high good humour; and the Old Lion, -shaking back his mane of shaggy hair, grasped Grey -by the hands, his eyes sparkling in his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your fortune is made, young man! your fortune -is made! You will never need to fear poverty again. -What life so grand as that of the man who can sway -the multitude, make men laugh or weep at his -bidding, hold them suspended breathless upon his lips, -move them to mirth, or rouse them to the highest -realm of passion? Ah, that is life! that is life! -Have I not tasted it? Do I not know? And that -life lies before you, my son. I will be your guide -and mentor; you have but to use patience and -discretion, and with your gifts and with your person -you shall hold all men in thrall. Ay, and you shall -write, too—Cibber shall find a rival. Men shall sing -your praise. The world shall lie at your feet. And -I shall see it—I, who have found and taught you, -who have discerned your powers with pen and -tongue. I shall be content. I ask nothing better -of fortune. Ah, my son, it was indeed a providence -which made our paths to cross!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey smiled, and was silent. The life of an actor -was not the life of his ambition, and he doubted if -it would enthrall him as it had enthralled the Old -Lion. But it would be at least a new experience. -He was ready and willing to make trial of it. As -matters now stood with him, he had scarce a choice. -He would go through with this thing that was -planned, and with the future he would not -immediately concern himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So he smiled back at the old man, and took his -hand, saying simply,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am well pleased that I have acquitted myself -to your liking. I will seek to do you credit in the -eyes of the world."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="triumph"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">TRIUMPH.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Grey gazed at himself in astonishment. His -fear of the eyes of quondam friends vanished -into thin air. Scarce would he have known himself. -That others would know him, he could not believe. -He had had no idea of the transforming properties of -one of the great flowing wigs of the period; but when -his own brown curls were covered and hidden beneath -this mass of perfumed hair, his brows darkened and -the skin of his face olive-tinted, his figure padded -and arrayed in full military finery such as the Duke -of Marlborough was wont to wear, he could almost -believe that he saw that great warrior before his eyes, -so cunningly had the artificers wrought. He looked -younger than the General, but that was intended—an -impersonation of youth and manly beauty and -war-like prowess. This was what the author of the -interlude aimed at, and this Grey looked to perfection, as -he stood habited in the garments in which he was to -appear before the public.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Old Lion, himself transformed into an excellent -presentment of Father Time, stood gazing at the -young man with glowing eyes, directing the attendants -to give a touch here or there to accentuate any point -he wished brought out. Satisfaction beamed from -every feature of his face. He seemed to see the town -at his feet. In a week's time all London would be -ringing with the fame of Jonathan Wylde.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was just the sort of artificial scene likely to -catch the popular taste. There was a rage for -semi-mythological representations—dryads and nymphs -and mermaids at the water theatre, Cupids and -Psyches and heathen or classical deities at other -places, whilst stilted and absurd allusions to Arcadian -joys, nectar and ambrosia, spicy breezes of Paphos, -or Hymen's seductive temples, fell trippingly from the -tongues of every dandy with any claim to be a man -of fashion, and were echoed in simpering accents -by the ladies to whom this flowery nonsense was -addressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The setting of the dramatic interlude had been -carefully arranged. Father Time, with his flowing -white beard, his scythe leaning against him, and his -hour-glass at his feet, was seated aloft at one side -of the stage overlooking a dim and vague expanse, -which was supposed to represent the earth. There -was something very majestic in the aspect of the old -actor, whose name many still remembered, and a -burst of applause followed the rise of the curtain. -Curiosity was raised to a high pitch by the gossip -already excited in dramatic circles, and the house was -crowded to the ceiling with breathless and eager -spectators.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Old Lion delivered his harangue with all -the fire and dignity for which his acting had been -celebrated in past years. Seated upon his throne, -surveying, as it were, the world, the crippled limbs no -longer hampered him. A few telling gestures of the -brown and skinny hand, the play of facial expression, -the thunder or the melting pathos of his rich voice—these -were all the aids he needed, and he used them -with excellent effect. The audience sat spellbound. -The young bloods even shrank and quailed and -exchanged shamefaced glances as Father Time launched -his thunders of scorn at the decadence of manhood, -the decay of all true chivalry, the gilded luxury, the -senseless folly, the gross extravagance he beheld on -all hands. Where were the men? he asked, pointing a -long and skinny finger straight at the house filled to -overflowing with the fashion and wealth of the town. -How did the youth of the great cities show their -valour now? Why, by scouring the streets at night, -setting upon helpless citizens, using them shamefully, -even to leaving them half dead, with eyes gouged out, -in emulation of the barbarous fashion of the Indian -tribes, after which these gallants were not ashamed to -call themselves. In the past men had laid down their -lives to defend their country and the liberties of the -subject; now they banded together to maltreat the -very men who were set to maintain law and order. -Of old, womanhood was sacred, and knights went -forth to do doughty deeds for the honour of their -ladies, and for the upholding of all the laws of -chivalry, which they held dearer than life itself. -Now young gallants delighted to show their reverence -for womanhood by rolling some hapless citizen's -wife or daughter down a sloping street in a barrel, -laughing the louder if she screamed piteously, or even -swooned with fright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was there a man yet left in the land? Where -was such to be found? And tears streamed down -the face of Father Time, as he made his moan, -lamenting the days which had gone by, and fearing -he would never see the like again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came a telling pause of deep silence. The -applause, which had broken out once and again during -the monologue, had been hushed into shamed stillness -at the last. Murmurs of sympathy and approval rose -from the many present who hated and lamented the -folly and extravagances of the day, and delighted to -hear them so tellingly and scathingly reproved. Even -the young bloods themselves could not but admire the -skill and power of the speaker. They recognized the -truth of the indictment, and felt a sense of shame and -uneasiness which no preacher in the pulpit had ever -aroused—perhaps because they so seldom went to -listen, and only stayed to mock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the silence was as suddenly broken by -a tumultuous burst of amazed applause. A second -figure had stepped upon the stage—tall, graceful, -alert, instinct with strength and manly beauty; and -a thundering shout went up from all the house,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Duke! The Duke!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Paying no heed to the tumult of applause, the -Youth went slowly forward towards the throne upon -which sat Father Time, and to him he made a deep -obeisance. Then amid the breathless hush of the -house began the animated dialogue betwixt the twain, -wherein the Youth did strive to show that manhood -was not yet dead, and to call to the notice of Father -Time the things which he had seen, and which were -yet taking place upon the face of the globe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then after a good deal of discussion, in which -telling phrases were dropped on both sides, which -evoked roars of applause and approval, the young man -was called upon to tell of those great acts of which -he spoke. Whereupon came Grey's great speech, -descriptive of the battle of Ramillies, and the superb -generalship and dauntless personal courage of -England's great General.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The audience hung spellbound upon the words and -gestures of the speaker. A breathless hush told of -the effect produced. To those who had known the -Duke, it seemed as though he himself were recounting -the story of his victory. To those who had not, it -was still a marvellous and soul-stirring oration, as -though the strictures lately passed upon manhood by -Father Time were in some sort swept away, and England's -honour vindicated by this young champion, who -represented the nation's idol.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thing was an unqualified success. Behind the -scenes the two actors were received with warm -congratulation scarcely tinged by jealousy. Old Wylde -was greeted by many a friend who had not troubled -to recognize him during his days of eclipse; and in -addition to the ovations from managers and actors, -scores of men, and even of fine ladies, crowded round -behind the scenes to shake hands with the heroes of -the night, and satisfy their curiosity by gazing at -them at close quarters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This part of the business was little to the taste of -Grey, who desired nothing so little as any recognition -by former acquaintances. He saw one or two faces -that he knew, but no one came near him to whom he -remembered having spoken in his past life. He -retained his heavy wig and military dress as he talked -with those pressing round him. But as soon as he -was able he disengaged himself from the crowd, and -ordering a coach to be called, he and his comrade -drove home together, weary but exultant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told you how it would be!" spoke the Old Lion, -as they stood together in their upper chamber, smiling -at the remembrance of the scene just passed through. -"I knew I had but to find the right man, and our -fortune would be made! You were fine, boy; you -were fine! I had reckoned upon you; yet one never -knows how it will be till the moment comes. Some -are struck with stage-fright, and blunder and trip, till -all illusion vanishes. Others mouth and strut through -pure terror of the myriad eyes bent upon them, and -bring down ridicule and contempt upon their heads. -But I had confidence in you, and my confidence was -not misplaced. We have taken the town by storm -this night; and as we have begun, so shall it be to -the end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Certainly it seemed as though this prediction were -to be fulfilled, for every performance was crowded to -the utmost limit of the two theatres; and the -extraordinary resemblance of the young actor—whose name -was quite unknown to the world—to the great Duke -of Marlborough was the talk of the whole town, and -raised an immense curiosity, which spread through all -classes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey called himself Edward White upon the -playbills, and was thus known to the theatre managers, -who could give no information about the young man -save that he was a pupil of the old actor Wylde, who -had written the piece, and cast it especially for -himself and his </span><em class="italics">protégé</em><span>. When it was urged that the -young man must have known the Duke, else how -could he so accurately reproduce his tricks of voice -and speech and manner, they drily shook their heads, -saying that of his past history they were ignorant, -but that as an actor they were satisfied with his -capacity, and were struck by his similarity in figure -and bearing to the great General.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The talk spread through the town, the theatres -filled to overflowing, and crowds flocked behind the -scenes nightly to get speech with the successful actors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was perhaps a week after the first performance, -and Grey was just meditating the possibility of escape -from the attentions of the fashionable mob, when a -loud and resonant laugh broke upon his ear, and his -face flushed deeply beneath its olive tinting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford made his way through the crowd -about him, and in a moment the two were face to face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had of set purpose taken up a station, -according to his custom, in a place where the light was -sufficiently bad. The passages and rooms behind the -scenes were never brilliantly illuminated, and the -shadows fell somewhat deeply upon his face; yet it -seemed to him well-nigh impossible, as he looked full -into the eyes of the man he had trusted, and who had -failed him, that he should not at once be discovered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was no trace of recognition in Lord -Sandford's bold glance, though it rested upon his face -with a shrewd curiosity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-even, sir. I have desired to see your -performance ere this, but have always been hindered. A -fine piece of acting as ever I saw. And yet your -name is unknown to me, and I thought I knew every -actor in the town and in the country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is my first appearance, your lordship," answered -Grey in his stage voice. "I owe my success to the -kindliness of Mr. Wylde. I have had no previous -training. I have to thank the public for a very kind -reception."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No previous training for the boards? I can -believe that, my friend. But I warrant me you have -had previous acquaintance with the great world. -You are no stranger to my lord of Marlborough—that -I will warrant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did see him once, my lord; and there are some -persons whom once to see and hear is always to -remember. The impression of a great personality is -not easily effaced."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford's bold eyes were roving over Grey's -face and figure in a way that was disconcerting, but -he would not flinch or abase his gaze. He, at least -had nothing of which to be ashamed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have seen you before, Mr. White," he remarked -suddenly; "I cannot yet say where or when. But -you have been in my company ere this. Say, is not -that true?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To have been in your lordship's company is surely -no great distinction," answered Grey, with slightly -veiled irony. "Is it not well known that Lord -Sandford goes everywhere, is seen everywhere, and keeps -company with all sorts and conditions of men?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young peer threw back his head and broke -into a great laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gadzooks, you have a ready tongue, my friend, -and are not afraid to use it. Well, well, if you -desire to tell me nothing, I will ask no more. Every -man has a right to his own secret, though I make no -pledge that I will not discover yours ere long. I have -a mighty curiosity about some men's affairs, which I -will gratify at my pleasure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was it a threat?" asked Grey of himself, "and -had he any suspicion?" He scarce thought so. He -would have seen a glint of recognition in his eyes had -he been known beneath his disguise. But he was -glad when Lord Sandford turned away with another -loud laugh, though his heart seemed to throb with a -painful intensity as he heard his loud voice speaking -to his companions,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I must away to my Lord Romaine's house. -My lady holds a rout to-night, and will be ill pleased -if I present not myself. The Lady Geraldine will -expect to see me. We must not disappoint the pretty -birds. Who is for the rout, and who to stay for -what fare they give us here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey turned away with his heart on fire. What -meant that jesting allusion to the Lady Geraldine? -Could it be that she had plighted her troth to him? -What else could he expect to hear than that she -would obey the wishes of her parents? If Lord -Sandford were the husband chosen for her, how could -she escape the fate of becoming his wife? Would -she even desire to escape it? How could a pure and -innocent maiden know the sort of life which he had -hitherto led?</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Lady Romaine's rooms were full of gay company, -and a clamour of laughter and chatter rose up in a -never-ceasing hum. The card-tables were crowded, -and little piles of gold coins were constantly changing -hands. Gay gallants fluttered hither and thither like -great painted butterflies, first stopping before one fair -lady and then hovering round another; taking snuff -with one another; bandying jest or anecdote, quip or -crank; putting their heads eagerly together over -some bit of new scandal, and then going off in high -glee to tell the news elsewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were a few grave politicians gathered -together in one corner discussing the affairs of the -day—the successful campaign on the Continent, and the -possibilities of an honourable peace. There were -none of the high Tories to be seen at Lord Romaine's -house. He belonged to the Whig faction, and pinned -his faith to Godolphin, whom he thought the finest -statesman of the day. He was on friendly terms -with all the men of the so-called Whig junto, and -Lord Halifax and Lord Sunderland were to be seen -at his house to-night, foremost amongst those who -preferred quiet converse on weighty matters to the -laughter and giddy talk in the larger rooms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lady Geraldine had betaken herself to the -inner apartment, where her father was to be found in -converse with his friends. It interested her far more -to listen to the topics of the day discussed by them -than to receive the vapourings of the gilded dandies, -or to hear the chatter of painted dames. To her -great relief Lord Sandford had not appeared at the -rout, and sincerely did she hope he would continue -to absent himself. Of late his attentions had -become more pressing, and every day she feared to -hear from her father that he had made formal -application for her hand, and had been accepted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine did not want to marry him. From the -first she had shrunk from his admiration, but had -not been able to satisfy herself as to whether such -shrinking were just or right. She knew her mother -favoured him, and that her father thought he would -rise to eminence if once he could shake off the follies -and extravagances of youth, and settle down to -wedded life with the woman of his choice. There -was something attractive in his great strength, and -in the manhood which was never eclipsed even when -he followed the fashion of the day in dress and talk. -But whilst she was hesitating, something had come -into her life which seemed quite to have changed its -current; and from that time forward she had resolutely -set herself against Lord Sandford's suit, and -received his attentions with a coldness and aloofness -which whetted his desire and piqued his vanity as -nothing else could have done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was one face for which Geraldine looked in -vain, and had looked for many long weary weeks. -Why she so desired to see that face, she could scarce -have told; yet thus it was. But it never came. She -asked questions now and again of some young beau -who had lived in Lord Sandford's world; but it was -little she could learn of what she so much wished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Sir Grey and my Lord Sandford had a quarrel. -None know the cause, but they say 'twas about a -woman. I know naught of it. But they parted -company; and belike he has gone off to the wars, for -none of us have set eyes upon him since the day -when he lost the race, and went near to lose his life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How was that?" Geraldine had asked with whitening lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she had heard, with sundry embellishments, -the story of the race, and the suspicions which had -been aroused as to whether or not a trap had been -laid for the young baronet, into which he had fallen, -and had only escaped severe injury by a happy -chance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine's heart had been filled with horror.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think you that Lord Sandford had a hand in -it?" had been her whispered question, to which a -careless laugh was the answer. She gathered from -more than one source that his companions believed -Lord Sandford quite capable of such a deed; for -he had the reputation of being a man good as a -friend, but bad to quarrel with, and absolutely -unscrupulous when his passions were roused. None -would ever answer for what he might do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A great horror had fallen upon Geraldine at -hearing this tale—a horror which haunted her still -after all these weeks. She could not forget how -Lord Sandford had come upon her and Grey in the -gardens of Vauxhall, and how he had spoken in a -stern voice, and had carried her off with an air of -mastery that she had been unable to resist. And -almost immediately after this had come the -quarrel—which men said was about a woman—and the -disappearance of Sir Grey Dumaresq from the world -which had known him. Her heart often beat fast -and painfully as she mused on these things. Had -he not promised her to give up that idle life, that -gaming and dissipation which in their hearts they both -despised? And he had kept his promise. He had -broken loose from his fetters. He might now be -living a life of honourable purpose elsewhere. But -she had hoped to see and know more of him. She -had not thought of his exiling himself altogether. -True, if Lord Sandford were his foe, and such a -dangerous one to boot, it were better he should be -far away. And yet she longed to see him again, to -hear his voice, to know how it went with him. -Oft-times in the midst of such gay scenes as the one -before her eyes her thoughts would go roving back -to that golden summer morning when he had come -to her upon the shining river; and she would rehearse -in her memory every word that had passed, whilst -her eyes would grow dreamy, and her lips curve -softly, and her whole face take an expression which -was exquisite in its tenderness and purity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-even, Lady Geraldine! I trust that your -thoughts are with your poor servant now before you, -who has been chafing in sore impatience at the delay -in presenting himself here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She raised her eyes, and there was Lord Sandford -standing before her; and they seemed almost alone, -for no one was near, the group of politicians having -moved farther away towards the doorway commanding -the larger suite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She rose and made him the sweeping curtsy of -the day; but he possessed himself of her hand, and -carried it to his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I pray you treat me with none such ceremony, -sweet lady. We may surely call ourselves something -more than acquaintances, after all that has passed -betwixt us. I may safely style myself your friend, -I trow. Is it not so, Lady Geraldine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was something almost compelling in the -glance he bent upon her. There was a ring of -mastery in his words, despite the gentleness he -strove to assume. She felt it, and she inwardly -rebelled, although she gave no sign.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friendship, I trow, my lord, doth mean something -very near and intimate and sacred. I scarce -know myself at what point an acquaintance doth -become a friend. I would that all true and -noble-hearted men and women would honour me by their -friendship, for I prize not any other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her searchingly, wondering what -she meant, and if she were levelling any taunt at -himself. The thought was like the sting of a lash -upon his skin, and a flush rose slowly to his brow, -out his voice was steady as he answered,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I care not how intimate and near and sacred -such friendship be, provided it be vouchsafed to me, -madam. I have not been thought by those who -know me to be a bad friend; but it would ill -become me to sing mine own praises to win the regard -of the woman who is queen of my heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the first time he had spoken quite so -openly, and Geraldine's fair, pale face flushed -beneath his ardent gaze. What she would have -answered she never knew; he held her gaze almost as -the snake holds that of the bird it has in thrall. -Yet, all the while, her heart was rebelling fiercely, -and her vague doubts and misgivings were changing -rapidly into a very pronounced fear and distrust and -loathing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But ere she had time to think what she should -say, or he to make further protestations, a great -rustling of silken skirts was heard, and in rushed -Lady Romaine in a state of her usual artificial -excitement and animation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, my lord, there you are! They did tell me -you had come. And it is said that you have been -to see the representation of which all men are -talking—the dreadful old Father Time, who says such -horrid things, but is put to shame by a wonderful -youth who is as like the Duke of Marlborough as -though they were cast in the same mould. Tell me, -is this so? What is it like, this performance? I -have been dying to see it, yet never have done so. -Tickets are scarce to be had—and such a price! All -the town is flocking. Tell us truly, is it such a -wonderful thing, or is it just something for empty -heads to cackle over?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is well enough," answered Lord Sandford -carelessly, wishing the ogling lady farther at this -moment. "The acting is good, and the piece not bad; -there is power and wit in it, as all may hear, and it -lacks not for boldness neither. But 'tis the -resemblance of the young actor to the great Duke which -is the attraction to the populace. I went to speak -with him after all was over, to see if the likeness -was as great close at hand as it seems on the stage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is it so?" asked the lady breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; the features in no way favour the Duke's, -save that both are handsome and regular. But the -carriage, the action, the voice—these are excellent. -The fellow must have known his Grace in days gone -by. But no man knows who he is nor whence he -comes. He calls himself Edward White; but none -know if that be his name or not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sudden flush mounted to Geraldine's face, and -faded, leaving her snow-white. A thought had flashed -into her mind; it set her heart beating violently. -White! How often had he said to her, "Would I -were white as thou!" He had gifts; she had told -him of them. He had seen and known the Duke, -and was tall and comely to look upon; and she had -heard him speak with his voice and manner as he -told her of their meeting. Everything seemed whirling -in a mist about her. She was recalled to herself -by hearing her mother exclaim, in her shrill, eager -tones,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, by my troth, we will have them here, and -see for ourselves what they can do, without the -crowding we should suffer at the theatre. We will -engage them for the first night they can come."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-hero-of-the-hour"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE HERO OF THE HOUR.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Grey's heart was beating to suffocation as he -put the finishing touches to his toilet. The -Old Lion sat beside the fire in his costume of Father -Time, bending forward to the blaze, but giving vent -from time to time to a hollow cough, which at a less -all-engrossing moment might have caused Grey some -uneasiness. But to-night his head was filled with -other thoughts. He was about to start for Lord -Romaine's house. The representation of "Time and -the Youth" was to be given there before a large and -fashionable assembly. </span><em class="italics">She</em><span> would be there! That -was his first thought. She would watch the -performance. He might even be able to pick her out -from crowded audience, and feast his eyes upon -her pure, pale beauty. At least for an hour he would -be near her. That alone was enough to set his heart -beating in tumultuous fashion. She would be there. -At Lord Romaine's own house it was impossible -it should be otherwise. Their eyes might meet; -and though she would know him not—better that -she should not, indeed—he would gaze upon those -features which were dearest to him out of all the -world. And whether for weal or woe, Grey knew -by this time that the love of his whole being was -centred in Lady Geraldine Adair, though he was -schooling himself to the thought of seeing her and -knowing her to be another man's wife. To him she -could only be as a star in the firmament of heaven—as -a benignant influence guiding him to higher and -nobler paths. That was how he must ever learn to -regard her, for her world and his were poles asunder. -And what had he to offer to any woman—he whose -future lay all uncertain before him, and whose -fortunes were yet in the clouds?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A message from below warned them that the coach -which was to convey them to Lord Romaine's house -was now at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are tired, sir," spoke Grey, suddenly waking -from his reverie and turning to the old man, who -rose with an air of lassitude which his strong will -could not entirely conceal; "I fear me you are not -quite yourself to-night. This constant acting is -something too great a strain upon you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, my boy, I am growing old," answered the -other, with a note of pain in his voice; "I feel it as I -never felt it before. My triumph has come just a -little too late. I am too old to take up the threads -of the past again. The Old Lion has risen once -again to roar in the forest, but he must needs lay -him down soon in his den—to die."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Over Grey's face there passed a quick spasm of -anxiety and pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay; say not so. I have never heard you -speak in such vein before. What ails you to-night, -dear master?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No matter, boy, no matter; heed not my groanings," -answered Wylde, assuming more of his usual -manner, though he held tightly to Grey's arm as -they descended the stairs. "I have been somewhat out -of sorts these last few days, and you know how they -did tell me at the theatre that my voice was not well -heard the other night—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but you had that rheum upon you. It is -better now. Yesterday your notes rang forth like -those of a clarion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah yes, that may be; but what has happened once -may chance again. Boy, did you observe a -gray-headed man standing in the slips and watching my -every action, his lips following mine as I spoke my -part?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did. I thought he seemed to know every word -by heart himself. He had the face of an actor, -methought."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is one, and a favourite with the people—Anthony -Frewen is his name. He and I have held -many an audience spellbound ere now. What think -you he was there for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, I know not, save to watch and learn and -admire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, truly, to watch and learn, that he may step -into Father Time's part, should the day come when I -can hold my throne no longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A violent fit of coughing here interrupted the old -man's words, seeming to give a point to his speech -that otherwise it might have lacked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey supported him tenderly whilst the paroxysm -lasted; but he sat aghast, thinking what might be -coming upon his master and friend. If, indeed, he -were to be laid aside by illness, how could the successful -dramatic interlude be carried on, save by another -actor? And did it not look as though theatre -managers were foreseeing this contingency, and preparing -for it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could they, indeed, supersede you, sir?" he asked -at length. "Have they the right to do so, since the -thing was written by you? Must they not rather -wait for you to take up your part again, should the -cold seize upon you, and for a time render you unfit -for your part?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay, they will not do that; and they have -purchased the rights to produce the piece as long as -they will. I could not complain. I could only -submit." He stopped and drew his breath rather hard, -and then broke out with something of his old fire: -"But what matter? what matter? It is nature's law! -The old must give way to the young. I have lived -my life. I have shown men what I can do. I have -aroused me from sleep, and shone like a meteor in -the sky ere my long eclipse shall come. I am -content. I ask no more. Let Elisha take up the -mantle which falls from Elijah. My work will be -remembered when the hand that penned it is dust."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey was almost horrified by these words. It -seemed to him as though the Old Lion were almost -making up his mind to some approaching calamity; -and at the thought of losing his one friend, the young -man's heart stood still. He had become greatly -attached to Wylde; but he knew that amid those -of his own profession he had many enemies. Nor -had he been many weeks amongst actors before -he had learned the jealousies and emulations that -burned so fiercely amongst them, and how eagerly -every vacant place was snapped up by one of a crowd -of eager aspirants. Who knew but that somebody -might even now be studying his part of the Youth, -ready to step into his shoes should any untoward -event occur to incapacitate him? He had -constantly seen the handsome but unsteady Lionel Field -hanging about the theatre, and once or twice he had -come to see them in their lodgings, and had asked the -Old Lion to speak a good word for him, declaring -that he had resolved upon turning over a new leaf, -and becoming steady and sober again. Grey remembered -now how many questions he had put about the -Duke of Marlborough, asking how Grey had become -so well acquainted with his person and voice and -gestures. These he himself had imitated, not -without success, for the young man had considerable -natural gifts, and far more training than Grey could -boast, although he had won so great success through -the close instructions of an able master.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man knew perfectly by this time that -Wylde was somewhat feared in dramatic circles for his -keen criticisms, his autocratic temper, and his -scathing powers of retort. He knew, likewise, that he -was regarded as something of an interloper—a man -who had risen suddenly into notice by what might -be called "back-stair" influence. Grey was fully -aware himself that he had served no apprenticeship -to his present calling, that he had stepped into success -simply and solely through a series of happy accidents. -He could not wonder that to others he should seem -to be something of an impostor and a fraud. Whilst -under the Old Lion's immediate patronage, nobody -dared to flout or insult him; but he was sometimes -conscious of an undercurrent of hostile jealousy -directed against him, which increased with his -increasing popularity with the public. He could not -doubt that if some mischance were to befall him or -his patron, his fall would be acclaimed in many circles -with delight, as making room for another to fill his -vacant place. And Grey, looking at the hollow -cheeks and the gaunt frame of the Old Lion, hearing -from time to time his painful coughing, began to -fear that he, indeed, would not long be able to face -the world or fight his own battle; and doubtful, -indeed, did he feel of his own power and ability to -fight that battle for himself single-handed.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 58%" id="figure-40"> -<span id="id5"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The hero of the hour (page 251)." src="images/img-242.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The hero of the hour (page </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id6">251</a><span class="italics">).</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>These fears and misgivings, however, though -somewhat dismal at the moment, were all driven away -as the carriage rolled under the archway of Lord -Romaine's house, and he found himself at his -journey's end, and so close to the object of his heart's -desire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The actors were not, of course, taken into any of -the thronged drawing-rooms; the day for the -reception of dramatists as honoured guests at the houses -of the nobility was not yet. They were, however, -respectfully conducted to a small apartment and -offered refreshments, which they partook of -sparingly, and then conducted through the garden to a -large temporary structure, which Lady Romaine had -insisted on having run up, so that she might invite a -very large audience to her house for the occasion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a well-arranged stage for the actors, and -the scenery, such as it was, had been well painted, -in imitation of that at the theatres; Father Time's -throne was a very fine erection, and all the arrangements -were excellent. The old man seemed to throw -off his lassitude as he made his observations, and the -fire came back to his eyes and the power to his voice. -Grey forgot his uneasiness in the excitement of the -moment, and in the realization of where he was and -who might at any moment appear before his eyes, -and he was resolved that this representation should -be the finest which had ever been seen heretofore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the grand reception-rooms of the Countess, -Geraldine stood apart as one who dreams. She saw -the throng of fashionable persons assembling; she -heard delighted exclamations about the wonders of -the little theatre which all had heard of. It had been -brought from Spring Gardens, and the moving of it -had been quite a small excitement for the fashionable -world, who declared that Lady Romaine was the -cleverest and most delightful of women, and that it -was quite too charming to be able to witness this -representation, of which all the town was talking, -without the crush and fatigue of attending the theatres.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine heard as in a dream all this hubbub and -clatter. She herself was as eager as any to witness -the dramatic interlude, but from a motive different -from that of the rest of the world. There was -an unwonted flush upon her cheeks, a brilliance in -her dreamy eyes. Many persons, who had scarcely -noticed her before, or had passed her by with the -epithet, "a maid of ice," "a snow-queen," now -regarded her with greater attention, and said one to -another that the Lady Geraldine was a more beautiful -creature than they had fancied before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford, pushing his way through the -throng towards her, felt a peculiar thrill of triumph -run through him as his eyes dwelt upon her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is a splendid woman—just fit to be the -future Lady Sandford, the mother of those who shall -come after me! My wooing shall not last much -longer. I know the mind of her mother, and though -her father promises nothing, he wishes me well. He -will not have her coerced, nor would I. She must -come to me willingly; but come she shall. She has -no mind towards marriage, as other maids and damsels. -Better so, better so. I would not have my mistress -one of those whose ears are greedy for the flattery of -all the world—one who looks upon each man as he -appears in the light of a possible suitor. No, I would -have my white lily just as she is—pure, spotless, -calm, cold. It is for me to kindle the fire, for me to -unlock the heart; and I will not grumble if the task -be something hard, for better is the prize for which -we have toiled and sweated, than the one which drops -into our hands at the first touch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So thinking, he pushed his way till he stood by -Geraldine's side, and met the clear, steady glance of -her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fair lady, I give you greeting. You are not -going to absent yourself from the representation this -night? We never know in our garish world where -the Lady Geraldine will appear, or what places she -will illumine with the light of her countenance. I -rejoice to see you here to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a great desire to see this spectacle of -which I have heard so much," answered Geraldine -quietly; "I would fain have gone to the theatre, if so -be that my mother had not arranged this representation -here. I have heard of the Old Lion of the -stage, though never have I seen him. There is -something grand in the story I have heard of his talent, -his early successes, and his bravely endured eclipse -and poverty. I am right glad he has lived again -to taste success and the plaudits of the people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford laughed at her earnestness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a philanthropist in sooth, Lady Geraldine, -to interest yourself in the affairs of such persons as -these."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are they not of our own flesh and blood, my -lord?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith, I know not, and I care not! At least, -they are not of our world, which is more to the point -in these days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine turned away with a look upon her face -which roused the hot blood of Lord Sandford; he was -not used to scorn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Geraldine," he began; but a sudden stir -and as sudden a hush in the great rooms brought his -words to an abrupt stop. The Duchess of Marlborough -herself was making her formal entry, and -there was almost the same respect paid to her as -though royalty itself were appearing. They were -only waiting for her to troop through the covered -way into the theatre; and Geraldine, taking -advantage of the movement and the confusion incident to -this, escaped from Lord Sandford, who would have -given her his arm, made her way rapidly downstairs -by a private way, and took up a position in the -theatre where he was quite unable to get near her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had decided beforehand where she would sit—near -to a side-door into the garden, which, standing -half-open, let in a current of cool air into the heated -place. It had been warmed beforehand, and was dimly -lighted by a number of small lanterns overhead, such as -were used in the gardens of Vauxhall and Ranelagh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her heart was beating almost to suffocation as the -curtain went up, and she saw the often-described -figure of Time upon his throne. But it was not of -his rounded periods nor his telling gestures that she -had been dreaming; and though she listened and -watched with a sense of fascination, she knew that -she was waiting—waiting—waiting for the next -actor, with a sense almost of suffocation in her -throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Why had she thought this thing? Why had it -seemed to her no impossibility that Sir Grey -Dumaresq, vanished utterly from his old world, should be -masquerading now in this part of the Youth? She -could not have answered even to herself these -questions, yet her heart was all in a tumult. Had he not -once said to her, as he plucked a white rosebud and -gave it her, "Why was my name not White instead -of Grey? Then it would be like unto you"? Was -that enough to build upon? Hardly, but yet she -could not help it. Did not men speak of his grace, -dignity, manly beauty? and did not many say of him -that his face seemed familiar in some sort, yet none -could say who he was? And now a thunder of new -applause rent the air. For a moment her vision -grew dim and she could not see. Then it cleared, -and her heart gave a great bound. Clear silver tones -fell upon her ear, and the ring of a voice that she -knew. His face for the moment was turned away. -He was addressing himself to Father Time; but as -he turned towards the house and gazed full upon the -audience sitting in spellbound silence, the foot-lights -fell full upon his face, and she knew him!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knew him—that was enough! What he said -or did, she knew not—cared not. She sat with her -gaze fastened full upon him. She recked not why -that alone seemed enough. A strange trance that -was half dream fell upon her. She gazed, and gazed, -and gazed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good lack, but the fellow is the very mirror of -my husband! I had not believed it, had I not seen it -with mine own eyes." The voice of the Duchess was -clearly heard above the clarion notes of the actor. -She was not one to hush her tones, and she was not -a little astonished by the performance. Pleasure, -gratification, and surprise were all written upon the -hard but handsome features of the Queen's favourite; -and every now and again she would tap her long -ivory fan with some vehemence upon the back of the -seat in front, and would exclaim aloud,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Vastly good! Vastly well done! Faith, but he -is a pretty fellow, and knows what he is about. I -must have speech with him. I would learn more of -this. Beshrew me, but the Duke must see this when -he returns!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This loud-voiced praise could not but reach the -ears of the actors, and they could not fail to know -who it was that spoke. All knew that the Duchess -was to be present, as a special mark of good will and -condescension, and that she should speak such open -praise seemed to set a seal upon the success of the -entertainment. Lady Romaine could scarce contain -herself for delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine still sat as in a maze of bewildered -happiness. It was not till just as the performance -was closing that she was awakened from her trance, -and that somewhat rudely. The last words of the -interlude were being spoken. Father Time and the -Youth were standing together making their last -speeches to the audience, and she was gazing with all -her eyes into the face of one whom she alone out of -all the company had recognized, when one of the -lanterns overhead, insecurely fastened, burnt its way -loose, and fell flaring and blazing upon the light -train of her dress. Instantly she was in a blaze. -The flames shooting up made a glare all over the -house, and a hundred piercing shrieks attested the -terror of the ladies at the sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext" id="id6"><span>But one had seen even before the flames shot up. -Already the young actor had leaped like a deer to -the floor of the house; in a moment he had reached -the side of the lady. He had caught up in his hands a -great rug which was picturesquely flung over the throne -of Father Time, and before any other person in the -room had recovered presence of mind sufficient to stir, -he had the flaming figure wrapped round in this rug, -and had borne it out through the half-open door into -the safety of the grassy garden without, where, laying -his burden down upon the ground tenderly, despite -his haste, he was quickly able to stifle the flames and -extinguish the last spark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He bent over her, his face white and ghastly in -the moonlight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are not hurt—say you are not hurt!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think not; you were so quick—so quick. How -can I thank you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes looked into his; it was just one moment -before the people came rushing out upon them in a -frantic crowd. But that moment was their own. -They looked into each other's eyes, and a thrill passed -from heart to heart that never could be forgotten. -Out rushed Lord Romaine, frantic with anxiety; out -followed a motley crowd—some weeping, some gasping, -some exclaiming, some even laughing in hysterical -excitement. Grey stood up suddenly, and slipped -away like a wraith in the moonlight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Romaine bent tenderly over his daughter, -who was struggling to her feet, still encumbered by -the folds of the great rug. She was dishevelled, her -dress was torn and burnt, she held the folds of the -covering wrap about her still; but her voice was -only a little tremulous as she clung to her father's -arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not hurt; no, I am sure I am not. The hot -breath of the fire just scorched for a moment; but -then it was crushed out.. Please send the people -away. I do not want to be stared at. I am not -hurt. Please take me in, and let me go to my own -room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless me, but what a pretty kettle of fish!" cried -a loud and imperious voice. "Let me see the child -and be sure she is all safe. Ha, there you are, my -pretty white bird! A nice scare you gave us all -wrapped about in a ring of fire like—who was the -woman?—Brynhild, or some such outlandish name. -But it was a fine ending to the drama. We have not -quite lost our heroes yet. My faith, how he leaped -down! He must have seen it before any of the rest -of us. Well, well, well; it is a good thing that his -fine show of bravery was not all in words. He is a -mettlesome youth, and deserves the praise of the -town. He will be more the hero of the hour than -ever. Where is the boy? I would have speech of -him myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duchess looked about her; but no one like the -Youth was to be seen. He had vanished altogether; -but, doubtless, he would be somewhere on the place, -and could be fetched to receive the thanks of the -parents and the compliments of the Duchess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was too cold to stand out in the moonlight, and -there was a general move towards the house, Geraldine -still clinging to her father's arm, avoiding the shrill -questions, comments, and congratulations of the -company, and shrinking back especially when Lord -Sandford would have approached.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The luck was not for me to-night," he said; -"nevertheless, give me the chance, Lady Geraldine, -and you shall see what I will do. But that actor -chap shall not lose his reward for his promptitude. -I will see to that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She started as though she had been stung.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My lord, do not insult him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stared at her in amaze; but she slipped away -and vanished like a wraith. He strode moodily about -the rooms, joining in the general inquiry after the -young actor whom the Duchess had sent for; but the -servants came back after some time to say that the -young man could not be found. He seemed to have -disappeared into thin air.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="fickle-fortune"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">FICKLE FORTUNE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Grey had a double reason for his rapid -disappearance from the scene of his recent -exploit. For one thing, he had recognized amid the -audience assembled by Lady Romaine to witness the -performance quite a number of men whom he had -known with more or less intimacy in the former days, -and whom he now desired to avoid. He knew that -both his flowing wig and his fine clothes had received -some injury from the fire, and moreover he quickly -felt that his hands and one of his arms had suffered -from the flames. If he were to be taken possession -of by friendly or compassionate persons, to have these -matters looked to, there was no end to the possible -complications which might arise. The sensitive pride -of the young man of gentle birth rose in arms against -being unmasked in the midst of old associates. He -pictured the laugh with which Lord Sandford would -make the discovery that the youthful baronet, his -whilom friend, was playing upon the boards of the -theatre for a livelihood. That was a thing he could -not and would not endure. And he had fled hastily -from the coming crowd, so soon as he had been assured -that Lord Romaine was on the spot to take care of -his daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again, he was frightened by the intensity of his -own feelings. When he held Geraldine in his arms, -and when their eyes met, and he knew himself -recognized, the flood of emotion which surged over him -had well-nigh mastered him and led him into some -wild act of folly. He had had much ado to stay the -burning words which rushed like a torrent to his -lips. He dared not trust himself to look again upon -Geraldine's fair face. He was frightened at the -immensity of the temptation which had assailed him -to break into some wild declaration of love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when he had reached the waiting coach which -was to convey him and his companion back to town, -his thoughts were directed into quite another channel -by the frightened faces of the servants who stood by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You had better get Master Wylde home without -delay," spoke one, "and have a leech for him. He -was taken with bleeding at the mouth almost as soon -as he left the stage. He has only spoken once, and -that was to ask for you. He should be got to bed -as quick as may be, and kept there till he is better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a pale and anxious face Grey threw himself -into the coach where the Old Lion was sitting, leaning -back feebly against the cushions, his face ghastly, -his hand holding to his mouth a kerchief stained and -spotted with blood. In a great fright the young -actor bade the man drive fast, and stop on his way -at the residence of one of the many physicians, or -quacks, who drove so brisk a trade in these times, -each having some wonderful nostrum of his own -for the cure of all ills under the sun, and some of -them thriving so mightily that they drove four or -six horses in their coaches, and had lackeys in -scarlet and silver lace running beside them and -distributing small leaflets, in which the wonders their -master had performed were set forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey had heard of some of these men, and that -they performed wonderful cures; and he cared not -what he paid, at that moment, so that his master -and friend might be relieved and healed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With no small trouble he got him up the stairs -to their attic, and put him to bed. But more than -once the hacking cough brought back the dreaded -bleeding; and by the time that the leech arrived, -pompous and haughty, and none too well pleased -at being summoned from the convivial gathering of -friends whither he had betaken himself, he looked -more like a corpse than a living man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey was in a fever of anxiety, and listened with -earnest heed to the words of the leech, and his -instructions for the relief of the patient. He bought -every suggested medicament, regardless of the cost, -and made no hesitation in handing the exorbitant -fee demanded by the great man for his valuable -services. He cared for nothing, so that his master -should recover; and the leech, finding that gold was -plentiful in this humble abode, and rather interested -in the discovery that he was attending the actor -whose Father Time had made such talk in the town, -really began to take some interest in the case, and -to put forth his best skill; so that before very long -the death-like hue of the patient's face changed to -something more natural, and the hemorrhage was -for the time being checked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He must be kept perfectly quiet. On no account -must he exert his voice, or leave his bed, or take any -liberties. Nature must be humoured, my dear sir; -nature must be helped and aided. She is a kind -mother to her obedient and reasonable children, but -she has many a rod for the backs of those who -despise her warnings. Our worthy friend has been -tendering a deaf ear to her counsels; therefore has -she chastened him somewhat severely. But let him -show himself mild and docile under her rod, and it -may be that she will restore him to favour again, -and that the world will once more pay to him its -tribute of admiration and praise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So saying the leech took his departure, promising -to come at any hour of the day or night that he -might be sent for; and Grey was left alone with his -patient, who had been soothed off to a quiet sleep -by a draught administered. And it must be said -in justice to these men—half physician, half -quack—who flourished at this time, that some of their -remedies were of no small value when properly -applied. They used herbs and concoctions brewed -from the leaves and roots of plants far more freely -than has since become fashionable. Many purchased -their nostrums from old women, who went forth into -the fields and lanes, and distilled from their spoil -mixtures which they regarded as remedies of -infallible potency. Much ignorance prevailed as to the -action of these simples upon the human body; but -many of them were of no small value in sickness, -and when used in cases where it chanced to be the -thing required, worked wonders in rapid healing, -and became at once the favourite elixir of the -moment amongst those who had known of the cure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the Old Lion was at least soothed to quiet sleep, -and in the warm atmosphere of the attic his -breathing was sensibly relieved. Grey was able now to -strip off his own finery, rather aghast at the sorry -state of his coat, the total destruction of his costly -ruffles, and the singed condition of his wig.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These must be made good quickly, or I shall not -be fit to appear on the boards on Monday night," he -mused, as he looked at them. Luckily as this was -Saturday night, he felt as though there were breathing -time before him. "I must send word to Mr. Butler -of what has befallen. Anthony Frewen, or -some other, must needs play Father Time for a score -of performances at least, I fear me. It will be a loss: -I shall earn but the half of what was given us before. -Still it will suffice to keep us, and I trust and hope -that it will not be long ere he recover, to take his -place once more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A troubled look came over Grey's face as he looked -towards the bed, and noted the patient's sunken -cheek and cavernous eyes. He wondered that he -had not before seen how thin and shrunken the old -man was getting; but there was always so much fire -about him that it deceived even those who saw him -oftenest and loved him best.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It has been too much for him," mused Grey, as -he sat beside the fire, pain of body and anxiety of -mind precluding all thought of sleep. His hands -were becoming increasingly painful, and he had -forgotten to ask the leech for any medicament for them. -However, he applied linen rag steeped in oil; and the -burning smart lessened somewhat, though he had no -disposition to seek sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It hath been too much for him—the triumph, -the adulation, the excitement of taking again his old -place before the world. It meant so much to him, -this play. It was like the child of his old age. It -brought him his final triumph; but it took much -out of him also. The fires of life blazed up too -fiercely. Now they seem sinking down to ashes. -Heaven grant that we may feed them yet, that he -may recover him of this sickness. Yet will he ever -be able to face the world again as heretofore? It -is hard that his trumpet voice should be taken—the -last of those attributes which made him the idol of -the stage. Oh, it has been hard how one thing has -followed another with him! Some men seem born -to success and triumph, whilst others with equal gifts -and powers are doomed to misfortune and sorrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey fell into a reverie of a sombre nature. "Was -he fated to be one of those luckless mortals, ever -falling lower and lower in fortune's favour, till perhaps -a pauper's grave should at last close over him?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What has life given me heretofore? A good old -name, which I may not use for very pride; an -estate so burdened and crippled that it is none of -mine, save in name. I have had my days of glory -and happiness; but what lies before me now? If -my master dies, or lies sick and helpless, what will -become of us in the future? I may play the part -of the Youth with Anthony Frewen or some other -till the world tires of it; but what then? Shall -I join the crowd of cringing, hollow-eyed men, -crowding the taverns and the stage doors of the theatres, -and begging for some inferior part upon the boards? -Shall I go vaunting my powers, or chaffering my -wares in a market already overstocked, that wants -none of me? No. Whatever happens, I will have -none of that. I have tasted of the life, but it hath -no charms for me. Rather would I gird my sword -upon my thigh, and go forth as a soldier in foreign -lands; and, indeed, were I alone in the world, -methinks I would hesitate no longer, but offer myself -for this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he spoke, his eyes turned to the bed where the -old man lay, and a softer look came over his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot leave him. With him I must stay till -he recover, or till he die. He took me in in my -hour of need. To desert him in his would be base -beyond all words. I will play the part of son to him -so long as he needs me; and for his sake will I go -through my part as before, though without him the -joy will be gone. But it will bring us the needful -gold; and we are not without our hoard, as it is. -Truly my master was wise when he decided not to -leave these rooms—not to live like rich men on the -strength of our earnings. We have sufficient gold -laid by against a rainy day. Ere that is spent, -doubtless there will come some change to our fortunes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But with the dawn of another day Grey found -himself in very sorry plight. Great blisters had -risen over his hand and arm, and the fingers were -so swollen and painful that he could scarcely move -them. He was forced to contrive a sling in which -to carry his left hand and arm, and he could only -just use his right sufficiently for the needful -attendance upon the sick man, and that not without -considerable pain. He began to feel feverish and weak -himself from the effects of pain and shock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It began to come over him with more and more -conviction that he himself would be unfit to appear -upon the stage on the morrow. And as soon as the -morning light had fully come, he sent the servant of -the house wherein they lodged to the rooms occupied -by Mr. Butler of the Drury Lane theatre management, -asking him to come at once to see him upon -a matter of importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Butler was part proprietor of the theatre, and -the practical stage manager, and he listened with -great interest and concern to Grey's tale, looking -earnestly at the sick man muttering to himself upon -the bed, but taking no notice of what went on about -him, and bending over him not untenderly, to see if -could elicit some response. But the Old Lion -unclosed his dim eyes for a few moments, looked -into his face, and then turned restlessly and began -the mutterings as before, interrupted sometimes by -fits of coughing, which left him visibly exhausted, -although there was no return of the hemorrhage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have had my fears of this," spoke Mr. Butler, -turning back to Grey. "He is scarce fit for the -strain of the past weeks. He uses himself up too -fast. The fires burn within too fiercely; and his -long illness, though seeming only to cripple his limbs, -has told upon him. I have feared it might be so, -therefore we are not altogether unprovided."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," answered Grey quietly. "I was going -to say as much. Anthony Frewen has the part of -Father Time at his fingers' ends. He can play it -for Mr. Wylde till this illness be overpassed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is true. I am glad you should know. He -is ready at any time to take the part. It will be for -him a great opportunity. But it would be well for -you to rehearse with him ere appearing before the -public. Shall we arrange for this to-morrow -forenoon? As for this dress, it must be given at once -into the hands of tailor and perruquier. But there -should be no difficulty in having it repaired in time. -A few guineas will set that matter to rights."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At my cost," answered Grey promptly. "Let -that be understood. It is in the bond; though I -shall be grateful if you will see to the matter for -me. As for the rehearsal, and even the performance -to-morrow and the next few nights, I am not certain -if I myself shall be able to go through my part. See -here!" and Grey drew from the sling his maimed and -stiffened hand, showing even a greater extent of -injury in the daylight than he had observed before. -His white face and drawn brows showed that he was -suffering considerable pain; and Mr. Butler whistled -in dismay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is serious," he said, with a look of perplexity -on his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet methinks there is a way out of the difficulty," -spoke Grey, with some eagerness. "Could you find -and send to me the young actor Lionel Field, who -has lodgings somewhere in these regions, for he -comes and goes at the theatre, and has visited us -often, albeit he has never told me where he dwells?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could find the fellow, doubtless," was the answer; -"but do you know your man? A fellow sober one -day, drunk the next, upon whom no reliance can -be placed, though his talent is considerable, and he -has caught the public taste before now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, and adversity has something sobered and -tamed him," answered Grey eagerly. "I have a sort -of liking for the fellow, though he has a jealous -feeling towards me, in that I have stepped into a place -without serving apprenticeship thereto. But believe -me, he could act this part of mine. I am sure of it. -He has studied it, I know. He has sat many a time -in that chair whilst I have been going through my -paces before my master. I have seen him watching -and following all. Send him hither to me. I will -undertake that he shall be ready to act for me till -I am my own man again. Let him have the chance. -I am sure he will remain sober. He has been steadier -for long; and this, he knows, may give him just that -lift for which he has been waiting and longing. It -may be the beginning for him of better things; and -since we are much of the same height, and he is only -something broader and more stoutly built, there will -be little trouble with the dress. Let him play the -Youth for one week at least in my place, and I will -give my time to my sick friend yonder, and let my -injured hands recover their strength and suppleness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manager had been studying Grey's face with -some attention. He saw that it would be impossible -for the young man to act for some days to come. -There was a look of fever about him, and the state -of his hands was quite prohibitive. He spoke with a -note as of warning in his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know what it is that you would do?" he -asked. "Have you heard the tale of the countryman -who warmed a viper at his hearth, which afterwards -did him to death?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The fable I know," answered Grey with a smile, -"but I do not see the application in the present."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perchance you may have reason to understand -it, if you do as you purpose towards Lionel Field. -A man consumed by vanity and envy is not the -safest wearer of one's discarded shoes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But is there any other?" asked Grey. "I know of none."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, nor I, i' faith. We have feared that the old -man might break down—he has been growing so gaunt -and hollow-eyed of late; but we had never thought -of such a thing as the Youth failing us. We have -no substitute for you, Mr. White. If you fall ill, -the interlude must cease; and it were pity too, for -it still draws us crowded houses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it need not cease," spoke Grey with energy. -"Send me only Lionel Field this day, and I will -undertake that by to-morrow forenoon he shall be -fit for the rehearsal with Anthony Frewen in the -theatre. Let him take my place till I am ready to -fill it again. He will do it better than I, with these -maimed hands, and with my heart so full of anxious -fears for Mr. Wylde."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then so be it," answered the manager, with -audible relief in his tones. He had no wish to -withdraw the piece whilst it was still so high in favour. -No one knew how soon the capricious public might -tire of it; but for the moment, with the Duke of -Marlborough the popular idol, and expected home -week by week, nothing that gave him praise and -honour could fail to catch the popular taste. The -house filled double as full on those nights on which -Time and the Youth were to appear as it did on the -others. Grey knew this, and would not for the world -have had the performances to cease on his account. -He had no petty jealousy of an understudy. He -simply desired that a man he had come to pity -sincerely should have the chance he so coveted; and -when Lionel Field stood before him, flushed, excited, -filled with strenuous desire to succeed—to fill the -part as ably as it had been filled before—Grey's only -desire was to help him to this end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a strange day that was passed in that upper -chamber. On the bed lay the sick man, for the most -part lying in the lethargy of weakness, but from time -to time rousing up, watching with sudden feverish -eagerness the actions of the young men, and occasionally -in whispering tones giving some fragment of -keen criticism or dramatic suggestion. At the other -end of the room stood Lionel, going through his part -again and yet again, with an unwearied energy and -with increasing grip and power; whilst Grey, white-faced -and exhausted, but still bent on the task before -him, sat beside the fire watching, listening, -instructing, rising every now and again to show how a -certain trick of manner or of voice must be managed, -to recall the great Duke to those who knew him. -The master was in earnest; the pupil was eager and -resolved to excel. Lionel had never lacked talent. -What he had lacked was the power of self-restraint, -whilst vanity had led him into the snare of thinking -himself invaluable. A bitter lesson had followed, and -he had learned wisdom by experience. His chance -had now come to him most unexpectedly. He meant -to use it well. He was grateful to Grey for selecting -him at this juncture. He did not consciously -meditate doing him an ill turn, but he resolved in his -heart that this opportunity should be used to the -uttermost. It would bring him once more before the -public which once had favoured him. He would take -care he did not sink into obscurity again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was dusk before he left with his part perfect, -and everything learned that Grey could teach him. -As his footsteps clattered down the wooden stairs, -Grey sank back exhausted into his chair, closing -his eyes in utter lassitude. It was more than an -hour before he moved, and then nothing but the -necessity for giving food to Wylde would have -roused him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Old Lion was awake now, and his breathing, -though very rapid, was somewhat easier. He was -excessively weak; but the quiet day spent in the -warm attic and without any exertion on his part had -not been without effect, and there was more -comprehension in the gaze now bent upon Grey's face than -he had seen there since the previous night, when the -old man had been taken suddenly ill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the matter, boy, and what have you been -doing all day? Who was that went out at dusk? -Methought it looked like young Lionel Field."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was he, sir. He came to learn—or rather to -perfect—the part of the Youth. You and I are to -take a week's holiday, and enjoy a rest together. -Your cough is too bad for you to go abroad, and I -have burnt my hands and must needs get them -healed ere I step the boards again. Anthony Frewen -and Lionel Field will take our places for the nonce; -and after we are restored to our former health, and -strength, the public will welcome us back the more -gladly for our absence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Old Lion's eyes flashed suddenly from beneath -their heavy lids. He half raised himself in his bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall never tread the boards again. My acting -days are done. I murmur not. I have had my -heart's desire. I can now depart in peace. But you, -boy—you! Why have you given up the place that -was yours? I hear the knell tolling for you too. -Not for your life—nay, you will live after these -limbs are laid in the grave; but for your triumph—for -your fame. You have given up your birthright -to the supplanter. You will never take your rightful -place again—never—never!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey smiled at the sorrowful intensity with which -these words were spoken. He laid the old man down, -and spoke to him soothingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, do not fear; do not let such thoughts -trouble you. I have seen Mr. Butler. All will be -well. My place will be kept for me till my return. -When I am able for it, I shall play the 'Youth' -again; and we will live upon the proceeds till you -are hale and strong; and then you shall write a -great play which shall hold the whole world captive -and enthralled. But now trouble not yourself of these -matters. Only rest, and all will be well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well; yes, for me all will soon be well," was -the old man's dreamy answer. "But for you, my -son—for you, what will befall? Fickle Fortune did -smile at you; but her smile has changed to a frown. -The open door is closing in your face, and where will -you find another?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey smiled and answered not. At the present -moment he was too worn out in mind and body even -to care what the future might hold.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="dark-days"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">DARK DAYS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For above a fortnight things went very strangely -for Grey in that upper room which had been -for so long his home. The Old Lion was very -ill—dangerously ill for many days; and though the leech -was called in several times, and sometimes gave a -medicine which brought relief, it was little his skill -availed, and the tender nursing of the young man was -undoubtedly the means under Providence whereby the -sick man's life was saved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Grey himself was suffering from severe -prostration, from an intermittent fever, and from much -pain from his burns, which were slow to heal and -made his task of nursing very difficult.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless he would let no one else rob him of -this labour of love; for none could soothe the sick -man as he could, and if left to other care, he always -became restless and feverish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for the world without, that was altogether -blotted out from Grey's thoughts. He never even -heard of the return of the Duke of Marlborough from -his glorious campaign of victory; he never knew of -the grand procession through the streets from -Whitehall to Guildhall, and thence to the Vintners' Hall, -where the victor of Ramillies was feasted by the civic -authorities, after the standards taken at the great -battle had been flaunted through the streets and -acclaimed by a huge and enthusiastic crowd.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this, if he heard rumour of it, passed through -his brain unheeded. He did not even know that -the Duke attended a performance at Drury Lane of -"Time and the Youth," and laughed and applauded -the representation, in which so much subtle flattery -had been introduced. Always eager for popular -applause, the Duke was not a little delighted by the -ovation he received in his own person, and in the -words of the interlude itself, which were cheered to -the echo by a house crowded to suffocation. -Afterwards the actors were summoned before him, and -each received a purse of gold from the hands of the -Duchess. And she told the Duke how that the young -actor had been so brave and prompt in the saving of -the life of her favourite, Lady Geraldine, at the private -performance of the piece a short while back. So -great a lady as the Duchess could not be expected to -note any difference in the actors of the interlude, and -none explained her error, for what did it matter? -Anthony Frewen and Lionel Field were drawing just -as well as the original pair had done, since the -enthusiasm for the Duke was increasing with his -presence in England. They asked lower terms for their -services, and they gave none of the trouble that the -Old Lion had done by his autocratic demands and -his hasty temper. The managers of both theatres -were well content with matters as they were, and -congratulated themselves that nothing more had been -heard of their former employés. Wylde's uncertain -health would render his re-engagement a matter of -some difficulty, if not of impossibility; and Anthony -Frewen had openly declared that he would act only -with Field. They had studied together. They -understood each other, and they wanted no -"interloper" coming between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was in substance what Grey heard when, after -three weeks of anxiety and watching, he found that -their exchequer was almost empty, and realized that he -must bestir himself again to earn the needful weekly -sum to enable them to live comfortably, and provide -the wherewithal for the sick man's needs. His hands -were now almost well. He had discarded his sling -and could use his arm freely. The fever had left him -somewhat weak, but he believed he had power to take -his part without any fear of failure, and he sought -out the friendly stage-manager, Mr. Butler, to tell -him as much. Little did he anticipate the answer he -received.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The matter was fully and kindly explained; but -there seemed no hesitation about the decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry—very sorry—Mr. White. But what -are we to do? Frewen and Field are both old stage -favourites. Their return has been hailed with -approval in many quarters. They have acted all this -time together, and Frewen declines to act with any -other. It is possible that he fears in you a rival; -for there is a dash and a divine afflatus (if I may use -the phrase) in your acting which is lacking in that of -Field. Talent is always ready to be jealous of genius. -It may be that the matter lies in that nutshell. -However this may be, these are the facts. These two -mean to do well; they refuse to be separated, and -therefore—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand," answered Grey quietly. "It is quite -right, I suppose. For myself I care little, but for -Mr. Wylde I have my regrets. After all, it is his -piece that is filling your pockets. Has he no claim -upon you for that? I know not what the law may -be; but can you suffer him to be in want whilst his -genius is bringing you such success?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well, well, we will see what we can do. I -am sorry, very sorry, that you ever gave up your -part. Oh, I know it was inevitable. You were not -able for it; and you showed magnanimity in your -instruction of another. But it was a mistake on your -own part—the countryman and the viper—did I not -warn you? A man of more worldly wisdom would -have done differently."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you will only see that Mr. Wylde lacks not for -the necessaries of life, I care nothing for my own -loss," answered Grey with perfect truthfulness. "I -am young and strong; I have the world before me. -But whilst he is ill I cannot leave him; and if I lose -my post here, how can I hope to support him through -the bitter winter now upon us? I can face destitution -for myself, but it were shame to let him suffer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well, he shall not starve; we will do -something for him. I promise you that. But it was a -thousand pities that you did not receive the purse of -gold from the hands of the Duchess last week. That -would have set you on your feet for some time to -come; and, after all, it was for you it was really -meant. Field should be made to divide it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," answered Grey, with sudden haste and -imperiousness; "I touch no gold that I do not earn." And -when he heard the story of the performance at -which the Duke had been present, he rejoiced greatly -that he had not played the "Youth" that night. He -felt as though the eagle eyes of the Duke would have -penetrated his disguise; and how could he have met -the victor of Ramillies again in the garb of an actor, -winning his bread on the London boards?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a curious strain of pride in the young -man's nature. Although his short dramatic career -had been so successful, he shrank with the deepest -distaste from recognition by any of his former friends. -He hated the very thought that the name of Grey -Dumaresq should be linked with that of the actor of -the "Youth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the same way he had always abstained from -making any use of the token of favour bestowed -upon him by the Duke of Marlborough as a pledge of -friendship. He always carried the ring about his -person, hung round his neck by a silken cord. But -although he knew it would win for him the -patronage of the great Duchess, whose influence with the -Queen, if not the paramount power it once was, was -still very great, he had never been able to make up -his mind to use it. He had not learned how to -present himself as a suppliant for favour. He felt -that he had talent. He desired to see that talent -recognized and rewarded. But to go about seeking -for a patron to push him into notice was a thing he -had never brought himself to do. Whilst living with -the Old Lion he had rewritten his romance, and had -made of it a very delicate piece of workmanship, -which might well win him fame if he could but get -it taken up. But hitherto he had been too busy to -think much about the matter. The romance must -wait his greater leisure. Now, however, turning -away from the theatre feeling very certain that his -dramatic career had closed as suddenly as it had -opened, he began to realize that something must be -done to keep the wolf from the door; and his -thoughts instinctively turned to his pen with a -certain joy and pride. For therein lay more real -delight to him than in the plaudits of assembled -crowds. If he could win fame in the realms of -literature, he would with joy say farewell to his brief -career as actor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Walking thoughtfully along, he almost ran into two -men who were strolling arm in arm along the pavement. -Stopping short from the recoil, he looked at -them, and saw that they were Anthony Frewen and -Lionel Field—the very two whose amicable partnership -had ousted him from his hoped-for employment. -But there was no rancour in Grey's heart. Already -his facile and eager mind had turned to other themes. -He would have held out his hand in fellowship to -his quondam pupil; but the young actor's face had -suddenly flushed a deep crimson, and he pulled his -companion down a side alley, laughing loudly, and -affecting not to have seen the other. Plainly, he -feared reproaches and recriminations, and was stung -by the goad of an uneasy conscience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey smiled a little as he pursued his way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is something strange," he mused, "how that a -man can never forgive one whom he has injured! -Had I supplanted him, he might have swaggered up -to demand explanation or redress, and we might even -have made it up again; but since he has injured me, -he will have none of it. I am henceforth to him an -outcast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey was not disposed at once to return home, to -encounter the keen eyes and perhaps the burst of -righteous indignation which no doubt his news would -awaken within the breast of the Old Lion. That -Wylde had had some fears of what the event had -justified, Grey was aware. He knew the emulations, -jealousies, and small cabals of the theatre, and how -a young actor, raised by lucky chance to a post of -eminence, is suspected and plotted against by others -as an interloper. His own reputation and Grey's -brilliant success had served them in good stead so -long as he was able to retain his own place; but now -that his influence was withdrawn, and Grey had -shown himself not indispensable, the thing which he -foresaw had come to pass; and the young man -regretted it more for his master's sake than for his -own, save for the immediate difficulty of seeing where -the daily necessities of life were to come from.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at least he had obtained a promise that -something should be done for the old man, and he could -surely fend for himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was walking northward along the frost-bound -road. A spell of bitter weather had succeeded the -torrents of rain which had characterized the earlier -part of the winter. Icicles hung from the eaves, and -the water was frozen in the gutters and puddles. -The sun hung like a red ball in the clear frosty sky, -and there was a biting keenness in the air which -made rapid motion a necessity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey was not depressed, though he was grave and -thoughtful. He walked on rapidly, one thought -chasing another through his brain. Had it not been -for the necessity of taking care of his old friend, he -would have liked well enough to walk all the way to -Hartsbourne, to see old Jock and faithful Dick, from -whom the recent almost impassable state of the roads -had sundered him. During the days of his extreme -poverty Grey had hidden himself even from Dick. -But with brighter times he had written to his -faithful henchman; and once the latter had visited him -at his new abode, and had accompanied him to the -theatre to watch the performance there, which had -filled him with pride and joy at his master's triumph, -albeit he felt a pang of pain to see him reduced to -such a method of earning his bread.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was the last time they had met, for the -constant rains had made the roads well-nigh impassable. -But the frost had come as a friend to travellers, and -Grey felt sure that Dick would not be long in -availing himself of the changed conditions for a visit to -town. It might be indeed that they would meet one -another, if only he persevered in his walk. He -wanted news of Don Carlos—now his one valuable -asset. Much as it went against him to sell his -beautiful horse, he brought himself to contemplate it as a -possibility. As a poor man in London, the creature -was of little use to him, and there were a score of -wealthy young bloods who had offered again and -again to purchase the horse at his own price. -The strained shoulder had entirely recovered. The -creature was as sound as ever. Perhaps—perhaps—Grey -had got as far as that, when he suddenly -heard himself hailed in rapturous tones as -"Master! master!" and there was Dick racing to meet him at -the top of his speed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the honest fellow's face was troubled; and -scarce had Grey time to greet him ere the evil news -was out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is stolen, master—he is stolen! Don Carlos -is gone! Oh, it has been foul play from first to last! -We had kept him so safely, Jock and I. The old -skinflint had no notion of his being there. He -grazed out of sight of the house, and at night was -never brought in till after dark. But that one-eyed -Judas must have discovered the secret at last, and -told his master. We never suspected it; but I will -wager it was so. Then they played this scurvy trick -on me. They said the old man was dying. The -doctor must be fetched at all cost. I and my nag, -who paid our board, were known to be living with -old Jock. I galloped off to Edgeware for the leech, -and Jock was kept within doors, making hot large -quantities of water, never allowed for a moment -outside the brew-house, where stood the great copper -filled with water. I rode away gleefully enough, -for I had no fears for the old man's life, though of -course I would not have him die for lack of succour. -I found the leech, and bade him ride back with me -full speed; but we had both been long making the -journey, for the roads were like troughs of mire, and -the beasts flagged sorely when urged. We were forced -to let them pick their way as they could, and so it -was well-nigh dusk ere we arrived. He went up to -the sick-room, and I to groom down my jaded horse -and fetch in Don Carlos. When I went for him -to the far paddock, he was gone! The rails were -down. There was abundant trace of trampling hoofs -and footprints of men. He had given them trouble; -but they had him at last. The horse was stolen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey listened in silence. He felt somewhat as did -the patriarch Job when one after another the messengers -of evil tidings came with their words of woe. -He scarce heard all that Dick was saying now—whom -he suspected of being in complicity with his unscrupulous -kinsman in this matter. But one name arrested -his attention, and he stopped to ask a quick question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Sandford! What said you of him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, master, as I was telling you, when I began -to make inquiry here, there, and everywhere, I heard -that my Lord Sandford had been seen as near as -Edgeware, and that he had been asking something -about a horse. More I cannot find out; but it is -enough for me. There is devilry in the matter, and -Barty Dumaresq and Lord Sandford are both mixed -up in it. I have come to town to see you first, and -then to get some knowledge of his lordship's stables, -and I'll wager I'll find out before very long where -the Don is hidden away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey's eyes flashed with anger. Was it possible -that this man should sink to plotting a common -theft? Or was it his kinsman who had stolen the -horse, and sold him for a great sum to the young -nobleman, who had always coveted the creature? -This was most probably the truth, for the recluse of -Hartsbourne had plainly feigned illness to get Dick -and Jock out of the way. The whole thing was a -dishonourable conspiracy, and he could only hope that -Lord Sandford's part in it had been merely that of -purchaser. If he had stooped to plot a theft with -the old miser, he would be a worse and a meaner -villain than Grey would willingly believe, since it -was already the talk of the town that he would wed -with the Lady Geraldine Adair so soon as the -spring-tide should come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Master and man discussed the matter for some -time, and Grey agreed that Dick should carry out -his plans, and report to him of the result at intervals. -It was above a week since the horse had vanished; -but the state of the roads had prevented the man -from attempting the walk to London before, and he -did not desire to be burdened with his own horse, as -he knew not where he might have to lodge, or what -was likely to turn up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our fortunes are at a low ebb just now, good -Dicon," said Grey as they parted. "You have but a -few gold pieces left, and our exchequer is almost bare. -But we must hope that Dame Fortune, who has -shown a frowning face of late, will treat us to some -of her smiles again. For the world is a harder place -than once I thought it, and life a sorer struggle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you have the Duke's token still, sir?" spoke -Dick eagerly. "You need not despair whilst that -remains. They say he is in London now. Why not -take it boldly to him, and remind him of yourself and -his promise? They say he has a kindly heart, as well -as a gracious manner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe that is true," answered Grey with a -smile. "Yes, why not go to him? Why not? Ah, -Dicon, I would that life looked as simple to me as it -does to you. But perhaps—perhaps— Who knows -what may next betide? At least, so long as the -token remains, I have still a card to play; and who -can tell but that the last card shall take the trick -and win the game?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sunlight had faded by the time Grey reached -the attic, and the fire had burnt itself out to a -handful of ashes. Wylde was turning restlessly upon his -bed, coughing more than he had done of late; and -Grey reproached himself with his long absence, though -he quickly had things comfortable and bright again. -But the old man must needs hear of his journey to -the theatre; and though he professed himself in no -wise astonished, it was plain that the blow struck -home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His </span><em class="italics">protégé</em><span> had been set aside for another. They -ceased to regard him as a power. He was laid upon -the shelf, and another had stepped into his place. -His word carried no weight. No one cared whether -he lived or died. He had brought success and -prosperity by his talents to others, but he was to be left -to die in obscurity and want. Ah well, better men -than he had been treated just so. He desired of -Grey to leave him to die alone, and to go forth and -make his own way in the world that had no room -for a feeble and broken man whose work was done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey soothed him as well as he was able, but he -could not find much to say that was hopeful or -encouraging. He dared not speak of any promise of -help from the theatres, lest the old man should -wrathfully refuse to receive alms, where justice was denied. -So he represented that there was still money left in -their purse, which was in a measure true; but the -funds were so excessively scanty that in a few days -they would be quite exhausted. And when the old -man at last passed into slumber, Grey went carefully -over all his possessions, which had increased -somewhat of late, and carefully detached from his clothing -any ornaments which might be sold for small sums -to eke out their subsistence till something should turn -up. For it was evident that Wylde must not be left -long by himself, as this day's experiment had proved. -And how was Grey to obtain any sort of paid work, -were he to be tied to this attic and to almost constant -attendance upon his old friend and master?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How the next days passed by Grey scarcely knew, -for the Old Lion had a relapse, medicines had to be -obtained, together with food such as his condition -required; and although a small sum of money had been -sent by Mr. Butler, with an intimation that the same -amount should be paid weekly for the present, it had -soon melted away, and there came a night when Grey -had not so much as a penny left in the purse, and he -himself was almost faint for want of food.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the old man lay sleeping peacefully; the fire -burned clear and bright. The night was fine and -cold, and Grey slipped forth into the streets, wrapping -himself well up in a voluminous cloak belonging to -his friend, which completely disguised him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A strange desperation seized him, and he cared not -what he did. He entered tavern after tavern, singing -a roundelay in one, telling a story in another, -reciting a speech or a part of a dramatic scene in -another, and once going through the whole dialogue -of "Time and the Youth," taking both parts himself, -but so changing his aspect from moment to moment -that his audience was electrified, and silver coins as -well as coppers were his portion on this occasion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had now enough for two days' needs. He had -supped well, and now must return home. He felt as -though he had passed through a strange black dream; -but he had learned how at a pinch the next day's -wants might be supplied—at least until he had been -the round of all the taverns and coffee-houses, and -men were tired of him. But he would not think of that yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He, Sir Grey Dumaresq, had sunk to playing the -buffoon in pot-houses, to earn coppers from the idle -sots who frequented such places. He laughed aloud -as the thought presented itself to him thus. Dame -Fortune had proved a sorry shrew so far as he was -concerned. Was there any lower turn in her wheel -that he must presently experience?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had wandered some distance from home, since -after having supped he had been fired to try his luck -at some of the more fashionable resorts of the day; -and his last performance had been given at a coffee-house -in one of the better localities, though for the -life of him he could not exactly tell where he was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was long since he had walked in these wider -streets, and the night, though starlight, was very dark. -Suddenly a sound as of blows and cries wakened him -from his reverie. Instinctively he started to run in -the direction whence they came, and almost directly -he met some fellows wearing livery fleeing -helter-skelter, as for dear life, from a band of young -Mohawks or Scourers, as they termed themselves, who -made the terror of the town at night. In the -distance there was still some tumult going on, and Grey, -half guessing the cause, rushed onward, not heeding -the pursuit he passed. A lamp dimly burning over -a house showed him the outline of one of those chairs -in which ladies of fashion were carried to and fro -from house to house. Plainly the liveried servants -in charge of the chair had been chased away, and its -occupant was now at the mercy of the half-drunken -young bloods against whom Father Time had -inveighed so eloquently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey understood in a moment, and with a cry of -rage and scorn he flung himself into the heart of the -fray, intent upon the rescue of the lady in the chair, -whoever she might be.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-night-adventure"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A NIGHT ADVENTURE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The all-important Duchess of Marlborough had -taken one of her sudden and somewhat vehement -and exacting likings for the Lady Geraldine. -This was a matter of no small gratification to Lord -and Lady Romaine, notwithstanding the fact that -the mother felt some jealousy and vexation that her -daughter should have been singled out for this -distinguished lady's favour, whilst she herself was -entirely passed over. Still she was woman of the -world enough to accept the situation with philosophy. -She always declared freely that the Duchess bored -her to death, and that she would never be able to -put up with her temper and her autocratic ways. -But she was glad enough to let Geraldine visit at -Marlborough House whenever an invitation (or rather -summons) came for her; and Geraldine herself was -glad and thankful to go, for here at least she was -safe from the unwelcome and ever more pressing -attentions of Lord Sandford. And above and beyond -this, her parents were disposed to treat her with more -respect since she had been "taken up" by the Queen's -favourite. When she begged of her father not to -make any promise to Lord Sandford regarding the -disposition of her hand, he laughingly consented to -wait awhile; for in his heart he began to wonder -whether his beautiful daughter might not do better -for herself. Lord Sandford's reckless expenditure -was becoming the talk of the town, and unless he -had larger reserve funds to draw upon than were -known, he might possibly find himself in awkward -straits. In the house of the Duchess, Geraldine might -possibly meet admirers with more to recommend them -or at least with prospects more sound and secure. It -is true that Lady Romaine still upheld her favourite -Sandford's suit as warmly as ever; but Lord Romaine -was quite willing to accede to his daughter's request, -and to let things take their own course without bringing -matters at once to a climax. Lord Sandford was -not to be dismissed; but Geraldine was not to be -coerced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was natural that the girl should welcome with -pleasure and gratitude a friendship which brought -her immunity from what promised to become something -very like persecution. Her occasional visits to -Marlborough House formed the brightest spots in -her present life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If the Duchess were proud, capricious, autocratic, -and uncertain in temper, as her detractors declared, -at least she possessed warm and deep feelings, and -could be infinitely agreeable and kindly when she -chose. To Geraldine she was uniformly gentle and -sympathetic. Perhaps she already felt that she had -passed the meridian of her days of power. The -kinswoman, Abigail Hill (now Mrs. Masham), whom she -had first introduced to the Queen, was rapidly rising -in royal favour, and seemed likely to prove not only -a rival, but a supplanter. It had not come to that -yet; and the return of the Duke, covered with glory -and honour, averted for a while the calamity already -overshadowing her. But so clever and astute a -woman could not be altogether blind to the Queen's -waning affection; and perhaps the consciousness -of her own faults and shortcomings, and her -unguarded temper, helped at this juncture to soften -the asperities of this rough but sterling nature, and -disposed her to take pleasure in the sincere and -undisguised affection and admiration of this beautiful -girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine on her part took great pleasure in the -society of one who held in a semi-masculine contempt -the follies, frivolities, and buffooneries of the present -day code of manners. Of men and women alike, the -Duchess spoke with hearty scorn, her eyes flashing -and her lips curling in a fine contempt. Her -influence at Court had always been on the side of gravity, -decorum, and what the fashionable dames and gallants -called "dullness." She and the Queen were at one in -all these matters, as they were at one in their ideas -of conjugal fidelity and the sacredness of the marriage -bond. The Queen was as devoted to her weak-minded -husband as the Duchess to her victorious lord. Both -held in detestation the laxity which prevailed in the -world of fashion, and neither cared for the criticisms -passed upon the dullness of the Court, so long as its -virtue was preserved untainted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine, sickened by what she saw and heard at -the gay routs to which she had been taken in her -mother's train, felt the solemn stately gravity of the -Duchess's house as a haven of rest. She spent her -time during her visits in the private apartment of the -great lady, where the latter came and sat whenever she -had leisure to do so, writing short notes to her -husband, to be dispatched by special couriers, or -talking of him and his triumphs, or the prospects of -the war or of parties at home, to one who was eager -to learn and ready to take a keen and intelligent -interest in all, and whose sincere admiration and -affection, expressed rather in looks and little -unconscious actions than in words, seemed to soothe and -refresh her not a little, accustomed as she was to -full-mouthed flatteries to her face, and the scheming of -jealousy behind her back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the return of the Duke came a break in -these pleasant visits. But the break was not final in -any sense of the word, and Geraldine received many -little affectionate notes, expressing a hope of seeing -more of her when they could escape from attendance -at Court, and enjoy a season of privacy in their own -house. At first it was necessary for the Duke to -be constant in his attendance at Whitehall or -Kensington Palace, and the Duchess went with him. But -a day came at last when Geraldine was summoned to -Marlborough House, to spend the afternoon with the -Duke and Duchess, and to remain through the -evening with the latter, as the Duke had to attend a -meeting of friends at Lord Halifax's house, and the -Duchess desired to keep the girl, asking that her -chair might not be sent for her until eleven o'clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine was pleased and excited by this prospect; -for as yet she had never seen the Duke at close -quarters, though from all she had heard of him from -his wife and others she felt as though he were familiar -to her, and her admiration for him was very great. -She had heard of his weakness where money was -concerned, and she knew that he had more than once -changed sides in his politics, and even in his loyalty. -But those were days of change and confusion, when -it was often difficult to see the way clear before one, -and when the outlook varied so continually with -changes of dynasty and of foreign and domestic -policy that a perfectly consistent and straightforward -walk in life was a thing almost impossible of achievement. -The girl was not disposed to criticise him or -suspect him of overmuch self-seeking. Still less so -when the charm of his personality was brought to -bear upon her. She well understood all she had -heard respecting his powers of fascination, and felt -that she could have listened for ever to the music of -his voice, watching the changing expressions of his -handsome, mobile features, and the graceful telling -gestures of his beautiful white hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They enjoyed a little quiet dinner in their private -apartments, almost unattended by servants. And it -was as they sat with wine and dried fruits before -them, awaiting the moment when the Duke must -take his leave, that he suddenly addressed his wife,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, Sarah! There is a question I have wanted to -put a hundred times, but ever when it sprang to my -lips the moment was not favourable. Tell me, has -a young gentleman of prepossessing appearance ever -presented himself to you with my amethyst ring as -token of his good faith? I did surely tell you of the -narrow escape I had at the battle of Ramillies, and -how that I was saved and helped by the timely -assistance of a gallant young English traveller."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did, my good lord; and I have greatly desired -myself to see and to thank this young gentleman -for the service rendered. You did warn me that you -had bidden him come to me, if in need of any favour -or influence. A warm welcome should have been his -at any time, but he has never presented himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us hope, then, that he has prospered without -our aid," spoke the Duke. "He did tell me somewhat -of himself, and I do remember how that I thought -his future something uncertain. But the details of his -story have escaped my memory, and I fear even his -name is not clearly remembered. It was Grey—the -Christian name—that do I recollect; for he said it was -that of a kinsman of his whom I had overthrown at -Sedgemoor in the days of the rebellion in the west. -Grey, Grey—yes, that is clear; but for the rest—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could it have been Sir Grey Dumaresq?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine's was the voice which broke in here. -They turned and looked at her. Her face was flushed: -her eyes were bright. The Duke smiled as he made -instant reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grey Dumaresq—that was the name. Say, fair -lady, is this man known to you? I would fain renew -my acquaintance with him, and show him some token -of gratitude."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know not where he is now," answered Geraldine. -"For a while he was dwelling with Lord Sandford, as -his friend and comrade. But they say that they had -some quarrel. Strange stories were told of them. -And Sir Grey disappeared—no man knows whither. -Many whispers and rumours have gone forth concerning -him, even to the one which said that he had -taken the part of the Youth in the representation you -did witness, your Grace, at the theatre."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was not Grey Dumaresq whom I did see afterwards," -spoke Marlborough quickly. "I do not forget -faces. I should have known him instantly. That -report could not be true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine's face was changing colour every moment; -her breath came thick and fast. Heretofore she had -spoken no word of this matter, which had been on her -mind night and day for long. Now an impulse of -speech came over her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but the actors have changed," she said. "I -did hear from our servants that the old man who -played Father Time was taken ill the very night that -they played at our house; and your Grace doth know," -turning to the Duchess, "how that my dress caught -fire, and how that the young actor did spring down -and extinguish the flames, escaping away ere we -could call him back to thank him. It was then that -I made sure. I had suspected it before; but when -I saw his face so near, I could not doubt. It was he."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Extraordinary!" exclaimed the Duke. "How -could things have come to such a pass with him? -Why had he not sought you out, and told of his -adversity? To be sure, many a gentleman born to -fortune falls upon evil days, sometimes through no -fault of his own. But with my token—well, there -was no need for this. I must consider what should -be done. Have you seen him since, Lady Geraldine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay; and he has not been acting of late. Two -strangers, or rather two other actors, have been -playing the parts since that night. I did ask of my -mother leave to send and seek him out, that we -might at least give him thanks for the service -rendered me; but she would not believe I had recognized -him aright—she said it was but my fantasy; and -for the rest, if the man wanted a guerdon, he had but -to come and ask for it. Hence, nothing has been done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, 'tis a strange story; and yet, as I saw that -representation at the theatre, I did say within myself -that some eye-witness of the battle of Ramillies -must have planned and written it. We will think -and speak more of it anon. Stranger things have -befallen ere this. It would please me well to -befriend a gallant and chivalrous youth, too proud or -too noble to ask favours for himself. I told him he -had something of the poet in him. He may have -a career before him yet. Well, sweetheart, I must -needs be going now; but I will return ere midnight, -and Lady Geraldine will beguile the hours of my -absence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose, and kissed his wife with a lover-like -devotion which sat gracefully upon him, and which -to Geraldine seemed in no wise ridiculous, -notwithstanding the fact that this couple had grown-up -children, married themselves. It was a beautiful -thing, she thought, to see how their love survived, -and grew in depth and intensity. She was able to -speak of the Duke, when he had gone, in terms which -brought smiles of pleasure to the wife's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a happy evening for Geraldine; for the -flame of hope leaped up in her heart, and she felt as -though something bright and beautiful had come into -her life. The Duke had shown interest in the -subject of the young actor, who had saved her from -injury on the night of the performance at their house. -He did not gibe at her half-formed fancy. On the -contrary, he seemed disposed to examine for himself -the possible truth of the tale. He would seek out -Grey—for Grey, she knew, it was. He would raise -him out of obscurity and poverty into the position to -which he was born. There seemed no end to the -possibilities of good fortune which might come to him -with the favour and gratitude of the Duke. The girl -passed a happy, dreamy evening, these fancies -weaving themselves into a background for her thoughts, -whilst she talked with the Duchess of the Duke's -magnificent reception, of the palace of Blenheim -being erected at the cost of the nation for a residence -for him, and of the honours to which he was likely to -attain through his genius and the favour of her -Majesty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was in the same happy frame of mind when -she got into her chair shortly before midnight; for -the Duchess kept her talking till past the time -arranged, and it never occurred to her to be afraid -of the darkness of the ill-lighted streets. She had -her bearers—her father's liveried servants. And, -after all, the distance to traverse was not so very -great.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had not proceeded far, however, before she was -aroused from her pleasant reverie by the sounds of -shouts, yells, and hurrying steps. She felt her own -bearers break into a run, and the chair swayed from -side to side in a fashion that was alarming. Something -struck sharply against the panels, then a shower -of missiles seemed to rattle against its side. Her own -men yelled aloud in fear or pain, and next moment -the chair seemed to be heavily dropped, and the air -was rent with sounds of strife, the fall of weapons, -and cries of pain and terror. There was no mistaking -what had happened. She was the object of some -attack from the street bullies; but whether by a -luckless chance or by premeditation and design, the -frightened girl could not guess. The thought of -Lord Sandford and his unscrupulous ways flashed -into her mind, and a shudder ran through her frame. -She could see little or nothing of what was going on -without. Her breath had dimmed the window-panes; -there was scarcely any light in the streets. Never -was any creature more helpless than a lady shut into -one of the cumbersome chairs of the period. She -could by no means get out, or even let down a -window from within; and before many minutes had -elapsed, the girl was perfectly certain that her bearers -had run wildly away to save their own skins, and -that she was left to the mercy of one of the lawless -bands of street marauders, the terror of the helpless -old watchmen, powerless to cope with them, the -scandal of the whole town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment it seemed as though pursuers and -pursued had alike left her alone, and she made at -that juncture a frantic but useless effort to escape -from her prison. Then roars of laughter and the -trampling of feet assured her that her foes were -coming back, and she closed her eyes and set her -teeth, and, clasping her hands, tried to frame a few -words of prayer, for she knew not what next would -betide her. A hand seemed fumbling with the chair. -In another moment it would be thrown open. But -ere that moment had arrived a new sound arose. -More footsteps came tearing along—a fierce voice—shouts -of derision—more blows—more oaths—cries of -pain and anger—fierce threats—savage recriminations. -What was going on? Had some one flown to the -rescue? Oh, when would the horrid scene end? -These men were capable of doing to death any single -or unarmed man who tried to stand between them -and their brutal pastimes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what was this? Another sound! The roll of -wheels—a commanding voice that she knew ringing -through the darkness of the night, dominating all -other sounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the Duke—the Duke himself!" cried -Geraldine, falling back almost fainting on the -cushions; but the next minute lights were flashing -round her, then the head of the chair was lifted off, -and she saw the Duke himself bending towards her, -his face full of concern and anxiety.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! The Lady Geraldine! Then, indeed, I -come in good time. Are you hurt, sweet lady? -Answer quick! For these villains shall not escape so -easily, if you are."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, I am not hurt; but I fear me some one is -who came to my rescue. I heard him shout to them -to stop their coward play. They were about to look -inside the chair, but they all turned upon him with -shouts of derision and fury. I trow he gave them -blow for blow, for I heard them yell and swear the -fiend was in him. Oh, I fear me they must have been -too many for him, and that he has been injured in -my defence. Pray, your Grace, let your people see -to it. I might have been grossly ill-treated but for -his opportune arrival."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a young man lying in the roadway here, -your Grace," spoke one of the servants, "his clothes -half torn from his back, his head bleeding, and his -arm broken. I think he is not of that band we -dispersed, for I saw one of them deal him a kick and -swear a lusty oath at him as they ran off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it is my preserver—I know it is!" cried -Geraldine, with tears in her eyes. "Ah, your Grace -will know what to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, put him into the coach, and take him -home," spoke Marlborough at once, his well-known -humanity towards his wounded soldiers extending -instantly to this injured citizen, who had risked perhaps -life itself on behalf of law and order, and in defence -of some unknown victim. "And as for you, Lady -Geraldine, you must likewise return with me. I -cannot suffer you to be abroad with these bands of -ruffians prowling the streets. I will send a message -to your father's house, and your dispersed servants -will doubtless find their way home in time. Lord -Romaine shall know you safe; but you must return -with me to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine was only too thankful to do so. The -very presence of the great Duke, calm and fearless, -dissipated her fears and gave her confidence. She -saw him superintend the lifting of the injured and -unconscious man into the coach, heard him give -directions to the servants to drive direct to Marlborough -House, and then he himself took up his position -beside her chair, and walked with it till they entered -the hall of his great house, where she was suffered to -alight, to be met by the Duchess (to whom a messenger -had been hastily dispatched), and embraced by -her with a motherly solicitude of which Lady Romaine -would have been quite incapable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dearest girl, what a terrible fright has been -yours! Oh, how I rejoice that no hurt has come to -you! I should never have forgiven myself for -detaining you so long. Ah! and what have we -here? Poor creature! he surely is not dead! What -a ghastly object! Come away, dearest; it is no -sight for you. What? He came to your rescue? -One against a band? No wonder he has been roughly -handled. Oh, he shall be well tended; I warrant you -that. Yes, let him be carried into yonder ante-room. -He shall have his wounds washed and dressed, and -we will hear his story later. Geraldine, my love, -what ails you? What do you see that you should -look like that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Geraldine's eyes, fixed upon the face of the -wounded man being carried into the hall under the -personal direction of the humane Duke, had grown -fixed and glassy, and every drop of blood had ebbed -from her face, leaving it of a marble hue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the sense of the Duchess's questions penetrated -to her senses, the girl grasped her by the hand and -whispered in tones of unrestrainable emotion,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is he! it is he! And he has laid down his -life for me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is who? What mean you, child? Do you -know the—the gentleman?" asked the Duchess, -perplexed and bewildered in her turn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine's grip on her hands was firmer and -faster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is he of whom we were speaking but this -evening. It is Sir Grey Dumaresq himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With an exclamation of amaze, the Duchess stepped -forward to get a better view of the white and -blood-stained face. She saw now that, despite his torn and -muddy garments, his lack of all the fine adjuncts of -the man of fashion, even to the falling wig, so -essential to the equipment of the "gentleman" of the -day, it was no low-born personage who had been -carried into their stately house. Something of the -refinement of the young man's face and features -could be distinguished even in the midst of the -disfiguring wounds and bruises and mire stains. She -grasped her husband by the arm, and whispered in -his ear,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Husband, look well at yonder man, for Geraldine -declares it to be Sir Grey Dumaresq, of whom we -were speaking but a few hours back. What a -strange thing, if it be!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marlborough bent over the young man, less with -the intent of identifying him at the present moment -as of ascertaining the extent of his injuries, and -whether life yet remained whole in him. Experience -on the battlefield had given him considerable powers -of discerning these things, and he knew that the -bludgeons and rapiers of the young bloods of London -streets could do as deadly work as the bullets and -sword-thrusts of actual battle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Opening the young man's vest to ascertain whether -the heart still beat, he saw something sparkling lying -within, and the next moment had uttered a quick, -sharp exclamation of astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beckoning to his wife to approach, he held up the -token—the amethyst ring which he himself had given -to the stranger who had risked so much for him upon -the field of Ramillies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then Geraldine is right!" cried the Duchess in -great excitement. "It is Grey Dumaresq; he is -found at last."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-the-house-of-the-duke"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">IN THE HOUSE OF THE DUKE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Grey became next aware of any sensation, -it was of a throbbing pain in his head, -which gradually asserted itself and dissipated the -black cloud of unconsciousness which had blotted -out for the moment time and space and memory -itself. He had no desire to open his eyes; but in -a faint and feeble fashion he began to wonder what -it was that had happened, and what was the cause of -this pain. Gradually he felt also a strange powerless -numbness in one of his arms, which he was unable -to move. Also he felt that he was reposing on something -very soft, with a scent of lavender in his nostrils, -and a warmth and comfort to his body that went far -to atone for pain in some of his members.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He heard the fall of coals in the grate; he knew -that he was lying between smooth linen sheets; his -soothed senses seemed to take in an atmosphere other -than that of the attic which had so long been his -home. He thought of Hartsbourne; it almost seemed -as though he were back there once more. He decided -that either this was a dream, or else that all which -had gone before was one. Perhaps he was, in truth, -a boy, and had been dreaming of manhood's struggles, -manhood's crosses. Perhaps when he awoke, it would -be to find his mother bending over him, and to hear -of some boyish escapade in which he had hurt -himself. Such things had been in the past, and might -be again; but sleep overtook his drowsy brain ere he -had reasoned matters out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How long he slept he knew not; but suddenly he -woke with a mind more clear. The events of the -previous evening came back to him sharply defined—the -emptiness of their treasury; the urgent need upon -him to obtain food and money; the shifts to which he -had been reduced in so doing; and last of all, that -race towards some lady's chair, attacked by street -ruffians; the short, sharp tussle round it, and the rain -of blows which had stretched him senseless in the -gutter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, he remembered it all now, and could account -for the pain in his head and arm. But what had -befallen him since, and where was he now? As -these questions asserted themselves, Grey opened his -eyes; and what did he see?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was lying in one of those huge canopied beds -in which our ancestors delighted. He lay deep in a -nest of down, fair linen sheets and silken coverlets -were spread over him, and crimson curtains were -drawn round three sides of the bed. He saw lace -ruffles upon the night-robe in which he lay, and the -air was charged with an aromatic fragrance which -might haply proceed from a mixture of drugs and -perfumes. But it was not upon these matters that -Grey's attention was concentrated, but upon a quiet -figure seated at a small table beside a brightly-blazing -fire, his eyes bent fixedly upon the pages of a roll of -manuscript spread open before him, and illumined by -the soft radiance of a cluster of wax tapers set in -a rich silver candlestick of many branches. This man -was attired in a flowing dressing-gown (as we now -call such a garment) of richly-embroidered silk, -fastened at the throat with a jewelled clasp, and bound -at the waist by a girdle of golden cord. The falling -hair from the ponderous wig served in part to veil -the face, which was turned slightly away from the -bed; but as the reader moved to turn the page, and -to trim one of the candles with the silver snuffers, -his face was fully revealed to Grey, and the young -man uttered an exclamation of astonishment, striving -to start up in bed as he did so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Duke himself!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words were scarcely articulate, for his tongue -was dry and his voice sounded hoarse and strange in -his own ears; but at the sound of it the Duke rose -quickly from his seat, and came forward towards the -bed with a pleasant smile upon his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, my young friend, so you have come to your -senses. That is well—that is very well. Nay, nay; -seek not to move. You must needs remain quiet -awhile, to mend you of your hurts; but I trust they -are of no very serious nature, and that you will soon -be sound and whole."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, your Grace, how come I here? What means -it that I find myself in such a place as this? I -surely am not dreaming. It can be none other but -the great Duke of Marlborough himself!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And wherefore not," questioned the Duke, smiling, -"since it was hard by my house that you were felled -by ruffians, and in defence of a lady who had but -lately left my doors? So now the mystery is -explained; and we meet again, Grey Dumaresq, not -on the field of battle this time, albeit you, who escaped -without a scar or scratch at Ramillies, lie wounded -here at Marlborough House. And right glad am I to -welcome you within my doors; for it was but a few -hours earlier that I was speaking of you with my -wife, and wishing that I might meet you once more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your Grace does me too much honour," spoke -Grey in bewildered accents, "to bring me to your -house, to sit up by my side—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tush! That is but the habit of an old -campaigner. My couch wooes me not as it does other -men. I am used to little sleep and hard days. I -live something too soft when I reach this land. -Besides, yonder scroll absorbed me. For that you -are responsible, my friend. Did I not tell you when -first we met that you had the face of a poet? And -for me there is stronger attraction in the poetry of -prose than in that which expresses itself in rhyme -and metre, which has a fashion of halting, like a -horse whose legs begin to fail him, and who changes -his feet or stumbles ever and anon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The colour swept over Grey's pale face. He -remembered now that the packet containing his romance -was buttoned up tightly in the breast pocket of the -outer coat which he wore that day. Doubtless, it -had fallen out when they took off his clothes, and -there it lay spread out upon, the table, more than -three parts read by the Duke himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ask no pardon for my boldness in thus scanning -your romance," proceeded the great man kindly, "albeit -I did open the packet with intent to discover if it -might contain your place of abode, so that I might -send word to your friend where you were and what -had befallen you. Now wherefore this start and -upraising? Did I not tell you it behoved you to lie -still? Must I call the physician from his slumbers -to repeat his orders himself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I crave your Grace's pardon," answered Grey, -sinking back upon his pillows; "but your words -did bring back to me the remembrance of a sick -old man, dependent upon me for tendance and care. -When I left him, I knew that for many hours he -had all that he did need beside him. But if I am -long detained from his side, he must needs suffer lack -and hurt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay; but I will see that he does neither. Tell -me only where he may be found, and I will send a -trusty messenger to do all that is needful, and make -arrangements for his comfort during the time which -may elapse before you can return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Grey gave the needful information, and the -Duke issued some orders to his servants in the outer -room, returning to the bedside with a face expressive -of a kindly curiosity and wonder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sitting down at the bedside, and entering into -friendly talk with the young man, it was not -difficult to draw from him a full and detailed account -of all that had betided since they first met upon -the field of Ramillies, and Grey had gone back to -his native land to see what fortune had in store for -him there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duke made an excellent and sympathetic -listener. He was sincerely interested in this young -man. He owed him a personal debt of gratitude. -Both he and his wife suspected that Lady Geraldine -Adair, her favourite, was more than a little attracted -by young Sir Grey Dumaresq, whom she had admitted -to have met more than once during his brief -career as a gentleman of fashion and the friend of -Lord Sandford. They had seen self-betrayal in her -face last night when he was carried in senseless, -and she knew that he was her unknown preserver, -who had diverted the attack of the young street -ruffians from her chair, and had thus given time -for the Duke's carriage to come up; and it had -recalled to their minds and hearts the memory of -their own young courting days, when John Churchill -was paying his addresses to Sarah Jennings, and -they could see and think of nothing but each other -and their love. That Grey Dumaresq had fallen upon -evil times there could be no manner of doubt, and -that his fortunes were at the lowest ebb was -manifest; yet the Duke, as he listened to the tale, was -revolving many matters in his mind, and only spoke -to lead the young man on by some well-timed -question to express himself with more freedom and detail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Grey, when once the ice had been broken, -he had no desire for reserve. There was a strange -sense of comfort and relief in pouring out his tale into -sympathetic ears. The only matters he held back -were his suspicions of others—firstly, those respecting -his kinsman, and any possible hand he might have had -in hastening his father's death; and secondly, those -concerning Lord Sandford and his possible treachery -towards himself. It seemed to him unfair to speak -of unproven suspicions of crime or evil plotting to one -so high in station as the Duke of Marlborough, whose -smile or frown might mean so much to those who -merited it. But of all else he spoke with frank -freedom and unreserve; and at the last, when his tale was -told, he saw the kindly gaze of the Duke bent upon -him with shrewd searching inquiry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so, Grey Dumaresq, you came actually to -know the lack of food; and yet you bore upon your -person all the while the token I had given you, -telling you that you had but to show the same to my -wife, and she would find means of rewarding you for -the service done to her husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had had my reward in your Grace's favour and -kindness," answered Grey with quiet dignity; "I -prized that token as a thing most precious. Yet I -never desired to use it as a means of gain. I will not -say I never thought of it," he added, after a moment's -pause, his colour slightly rising as he spoke; "and -perchance had matters gone so with my old friend -Jonathan Wylde that privation or starvation nearly -threatened him, I might e'en have swallowed my -pride, and become a suppliant for favour. But I -should have fallen in my own esteem had I been -forced to such a step. It may be pride—false -pride—haughtiness of spirit—I know not; but in the days -of my prosperity I would not seek to curry favour -by making capital out of something which I desired -to retain as a pleasant memory. And when poverty -had fallen upon me, and I had dropped my name and -my title, and was known only as a poor actor, living -in obscurity and poverty, how could I hope to be -admitted to the presence of the Duchess? How could I -desire to parade my fallen fortunes before the eyes of -her train of servants? Your Grace had called me -friend—that was my reward."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a smile the great man slowly shook his head. -Although a love for money amounting to greed was -his own besetting sin, he could admire disinterestedness -and honourable pride in others. He knew that -had Grey played his cards well, seeking only personal -advancement and place, he might by this time have -risen, through the influence of the Duchess, into -some position which would have secured him ease and -affluence. He knew that in his place he would not -have scrupled to do this, nor would nine-tenths of the -men of the day. Although he smiled at the romantic -folly and chivalrous scruples of the youth of poetical -temperament, he could yet admire those highly -unpractical qualities which had gone near to bring him -to ruin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my young friend," he said at last, "there -must be an end of this masquerading in rags and -tatters. I shall make it my business to bring your -case before the Queen herself. I trow that you have -been scurvily treated by your kinsman, and that that -matter requires investigation. In addition to this, no -man with that book in his hands," and he pointed to -the roll upon the table, "should lack for daily bread. -There should be a fortune in it, or in the hands of the -man who owns the brain that conceived and the hand -that penned it. See here, Sir Grey. The Queen is -not exactly a critic of literature or a patron of all -genius, but she has a love for what is pure and -beautiful and simply true. I warrant that yonder romance -will go home to her heart. My wife shall take it and -read it to her this very afternoon, when she is to be -in attendance upon her Majesty. When that has -been done, take my word for it, you will have half -the publishers of the town crowding cap in hand to -crave the favour of bringing it out for the world to -read. Oh, you need not blush, like a young mother -when her firstborn babe is praised! I trow I know a -good book when I see it; and that is one which will -mightily please her Majesty, since it sings the praise -of pure love and chivalrous fidelity, and all those -virtues which seem well-nigh out of date, but which the -Queen would fain see restored as in the bygone days -of knights-errant and King Arthur's Round Table."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was told that there was no sale nowadays for -aught but scurrilous libels and bitter lampoons, or at -best for political pamphlets treating of subjects of -which I know naught."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, men love garbage, when they can get it; and -the strife of bitter tongues is entertaining to those -who would fain believe all that is bad of their fellows. -Yet are there enough pure and loving souls left in -this great Babylon to appreciate such work as yonder; -and when once her Majesty's favour has been shown -to it and its writer, you will see how these same -publishers will change their tone. Every aspirant to -literary fame needs a patron, and your patron shall -be the Queen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was almost too wonderful for belief. Grey was -not sure still that he did not dream. And after he had -swallowed the draught which his host mixed and held -to his lips, he quickly fell into a sound slumber from -which even dreams were banished. But when he woke -again the sun must long have been up, and surely he -was again dreaming; for here was Dick himself, clad -once more in the livery of a well-to-do servant, -standing at his bedside with a tray containing a light but -savoury breakfast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dicon! Why, will wonders never cease? Man -alive, how came you here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, if you will but sit up, and let me give you -of this broth which has been specially prepared for -you, I will gladly tell you all. Master, my dear -master, I trow that all our troubles are ended now!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I could be sure I were not dreaming, good -Dicon, belike I might say the same; but my head is -so bewildered, I know not what to believe. Yet it is -good to see your honest face again, even in a dream."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith, I am no dream, master, and my tale can -soon be told. I came into the town soon after dawn, -to tell you I had discovered Don Carlos in Lord -Sandford's stables at St. Albans, where he keeps the beasts -he uses for racing and such like. And no sooner had -I stepped into a tavern not so far from here for a pot -of ale and crust of bread, when I did hear that all the -town was ringing with the tale of how young Sir -Grey Dumaresq, who had disappeared mysteriously -not long since had risked his life not far from -Marlborough House in beating off a gang of Mohawks -from besetting and perhaps injuring the Lady -Geraldine Adair, who was returning homewards after an -evening spent with the Duchess. Nay, master, what -ails you? You are white as a ghost. Lie down -again, and let me fetch the leech."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay, good Dicon; 'tis but a passing qualm. -Heed it not. So it was the Lady Geraldine who was -in that chair?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; and there is no knowing what might have -befallen her, but for the timely arrival of Sir Grey. -That is what all the town is buzzing about. Well, -when I heard that, I thought I would make bold to -present myself here, and lay claim to be your servant. -And who should come to speak with me but the Duke -himself, who even remembered having seen my face -that day at Ramillies! I vow he did talk with me -for hard upon an hour; and I did tell him—oh, I -told him everything that I could think of—things I -have not yet dared to speak to you, my master. I -have told him what Jock Jarvis and I do think of old -Barty at Hartsbourne, and what I think of my Lord -Sandford, and how he did first seek to cause you -to break your neck, and then robbed you by foul -means of your horse—the horse that carried his Grace -so bravely through the battle of Ramillies. Oh, I saw -how his eyes flashed. I trow he will have a rod in -pickle for my Lord Sandford yet! He is a noble -and knightly gentleman; and when he had heard all -I had to say, he did call me an honest fellow; and he -gave me some gold pieces, and sent me out with one of -his servants to get me a livery such as it became Sir -Grey's servant to wear. And he told me to come back -to wait upon you, my master, for that he and her -Grace were about to go to Whitehall to attend upon -the Queen this afternoon and evening; and I warrant -they will tell a tale to her Majesty which will put a -spoke in some fine gentleman's wheel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey lay back upon his pillows breathless with -wonder and excitement; but it was excitement of -that joyful kind which acts rather as a tonic upon -the system than as a deterrent to recovery. He sent -Dick away to make inquiries about the Old Lion; and -as the man went out, the Duke's physician entered -and examined the wound upon Grey's head and the -condition of the broken arm, which he had skilfully -set, and ended by permitting his patient, after other -two hours of quiet rest, to leave his bed for a few -hours to sit in the adjoining room for a while under -the care of his servant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Had you been like too many of our young -gallants, full-blooded, heated with wine, softened by -gluttony and rich living, these injuries might have -involved blood-letting and other severe remedies. -But your temperate life and meagre living of late -tell in your favour now. You need heartening up -and strengthening by good food and a little old -wine carefully administered, and you will soon cease -to feel any ill effects. I congratulate you heartily -on the occasion which has brought you once again -into the notice of the Duke, who can be a stanch -and true friend, as I have reason to know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Dick returned to him he was laden with -fine clothing, such as Grey had been wont to wear, -and which the man spread out with an air of pride -and delight that was good to see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See there! The Duke's own clothes—those he -wore some few years since, when he was something -slimmer than now. He bade his man look them out -for you, seeing that your own garments were all torn -and mud-bespattered—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, and of fustian, in lieu of cloth, and silk, and -velvet," added Grey, as he looked smilingly at the -rich clothing before him. "Well, well, Dicon, when -one comes suddenly into the midst of an enchanted -palace, one must take the good the gods provide. -But tell me of Mr. Wylde. Have you learned aught -concerning him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, truly yes. I saw the messenger who had -been to him; and at the sight of the Duke's livery -the whole house was astir, and not a creature there -but will wait hand and foot upon the old man till other -arrangements for him can be made. The fellow saw -him and gave him news of you, and he was right -well content. He said he should lack for nothing; -and the man did leave with the host two gold -pieces sent by his Grace, and told him that he would -have to answer to the Duke if aught went amiss -with him. After that you need have no fear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey's last anxiety thus set at rest, he seemed to -have nothing left to wish for. He drowsed away -another hour in peaceful dreamy fashion, and felt -fully equal to the fatigue of being dressed by Dick, -and walking with the help of his arm into the -adjoining room—a pleasant sunny apartment, on the table -of which stood a great bowl of pure white snowdrops, -at which Grey gazed with an infinite delight; for the -sight of white flowers always brought back to his -mind one particular face and form, and the very -thought of his nearness to her last night set his -heart beating tumultuously within him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was lying back luxuriously in a deep -armchair, beside the glowing heat of the fire. The -sunlight filtered in through the great mullions of -the window, and the light seemed to concentrate -itself upon the whiteness of the flowers near at -hand. Dick had retired into the inner room to set -his master's things in order there. Grey was -alone—alone with his bewildering thoughts of happiness -to come, scarce knowing how much of all he had -heard could be true, or what would be the outcome.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had he slept as he sat there musing? What was -that sound somewhere in the room? He lifted his -head and looked round. A tall, slender, white-robed -figure was standing outlined against the rich tapestry -of the wall behind. He had not heard the door open -or the arras lifted. But she was there; and -somehow he was not astonished. It seemed only natural -to see her, the golden shafts of sunlight seeming to -cling to her, and to follow her as she came slowly -forward with that inimitable grace of movement he -knew so well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For one moment he sat spellbound, and then -struggled to his feet, holding out his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment she was beside him, holding them—holding -them fast; for he was weaker than he knew, -and he swayed a little, a mist before his eyes. Then -he was back in his chair, and she was standing over -him. She was holding something to his lips. He -drank, and his senses cleared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive me," she said; "I should not have come -yet; but I so longed to thank you myself, and to be -assured that you had not suffered too much in my -service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could not suffer too much in such service," he -answered. "And from my heart I thank you for -coming. I have been so hungry for the sight of -you, Geraldine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I too," she answered in the lowest whisper, -as she just touched his hair lightly with her hand.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="good-queen-anne"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"GOOD QUEEN ANNE."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Sir Grey Dumaresq bent the knee before -the little upright figure in the great carved -chair, and the courtiers and ladies pressed one upon -the other, as far as etiquette permitted, to get a sight -of a personage who, for the moment, was all the talk -of the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In her gentle, rather thin and high-pitched voice -the Queen spoke, and a deep hush fell upon the great -room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rise, Sir Grey. I have sent for you here, -inasmuch as I have heard much of your story from both -the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, my very good -friends; and I have desired to see you, and to hear -somewhat of many matters from your own lips."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your Majesty has but to speak, and I will answer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hear that you did first encounter his Grace of -Marlborough upon the field of Ramillies, and that you -did there render him no small succour in a moment -of personal peril."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was my good fortune, madam, to possess a -horse of great courage, and strength, and mettle; -and when the Duke was for the moment surrounded -by a party of the enemy, and had to force his own -horse to a perilous leap, which caused him to fall and -become useless, I was able, being close at hand, to -mount him upon my good steed, which carried him -through that day, which his own genius and courage -has rendered for ever glorious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How came it that you did adventure yourself -into the heart of the danger, not being a soldier, -or having any call to risk your life in the cause?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madam, I am an Englishman, and every true-born -Englishman is called to adventure himself -wherever he may by happy chance be able to serve -his country. That is my excuse for being where -perchance I had no right to be, save the right of -which I have spoken, and of which I pray that your -Majesty will not rob me. To serve his Queen and -his country must needs be the desire of every man -worthy the name, be he soldier or be he none."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A smile played over the pleasant countenance of -the Queen. The pale, handsome face, the graceful -bearing, the courtly address of the young man, -pleased her well. Simply attired, without any of -the extravagances of frippery which distinguished -so many courtiers, and with his own curly brown -locks floating round his head, his appearance was -striking and prepossessing enough. To be sure, the -Queen could resent any too great easiness in dress -amongst her courtiers; and when one of her ministers, -coming in haste, had appeared before her in a small -wig, such as gentlemen used at their toilets, rather -than in full dress, she had remarked to her ladies -that she supposed his lordship would present himself -in his night-cap next! But there was nothing slovenly -in the rich plainness of Grey's attire; and he looked -so much the poet and the dreamer, with the pallor -of illness still upon him, and that slimness of figure -partly due to privations now past, and partly to -his active and temperate life, that the Queen -regarded him with increasing favour, and a smile of -decided approval was his reward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well and bravely spoken, my young knight. -And let me in my own person thank you for the -service rendered that day to one who has been, -and still will be, I doubt not, his country's most -able defender. Had aught befallen the Duke on -the field of Ramillies, a glorious victory would -have become, I cannot doubt, a fearful defeat. -France would have swept the Netherlands with -her victorious armies, and there would have been -none with genius and power to roll back the tide -of battle. Wherefore England herself owes you a -debt of gratitude, Sir Grey, which must not be -forgotten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madam, I have been richly repaid already for -any poor service of mine—first by the gracious favour -of the Duke, and now in still fuller measure by these -words from your Majesty. Had fortune not so far -favoured me that I was close at hand at the moment, -I cannot doubt but that a score of others would -have done what I was favoured by doing. To serve -the man who serves his country so well is its own -reward."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, my young friend, it is easy to see you were -never bred up in courts," spoke the Queen, with a -smile for Grey, and a quick searching glance round -at the knots of courtiers and gentlemen filling the -room. At this most of them shrank back, a little -abashed at her look and her words. Shameless -place-hunting was all the fashion of the day; and for any -man to make light of service rendered, and to desire -no reward, was a thing almost unheard of.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But after having just launched this shaft, the -Queen said no more on that subject. She was by -nature timid and gentle, and though not lacking in -wit or in a quiet penetration, which was not always -appreciated by those about her, was for the most -part an indulgent mistress, not disposed to overmuch -blame even where she saw weakness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I hear more of you than this, Sir Grey. -You are not only a man of prompt action, but you -are also a dreamer and a poet. I have read with -pleasure your romance of pure chivalry, and I would -that we could find in these degenerate days more -knights and gentlemen, more spotless maidens and -virtuous women, such as those of whom your pen -delights to tell, and my ears delight to hear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man bowed low, the crimson flush, -which praise of his courage had not evoked, dyeing -his cheek now that the child of his brain and hand -was praised. The Queen continued graciously,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have heard the whole romance, and its beauty -touches my heart, and pleases also those amongst my -ladies and gentlemen as are best able to appraise the -merits of such poetic work. I desire, Sir Grey, that -you will dedicate the tale to me, as one who has read -and approved it, and would desire it to be widely -known and read in the land. To be a patron of all -true and beautiful art is the privilege of rulers, and -therefore do I give this charge to you. I desire that -such a story as you have conceived and penned -should be circulated amongst my faithful subjects. -They will learn from it loyalty, love, purity, and -singleness of heart, and surely no nation can thrive -or excel in which these virtues be absent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A little buzz of amaze and gratulation went round -the room as the Queen spoke thus. The young man's -fortune as a writer was assuredly made. A second -Philip Sidney had suddenly come to light. All the -world would delight to honour the man approved of -royalty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey himself was speechless. Such a eulogy -was altogether unexpected and bewildering. If -Dame Fortune had, in the past, showed an unkind -face towards him, surely she was atoning for her -frowns by the most gracious of smiles now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps the young author's confused and blissful -silence pleased the Queen more than any florid words -of gratitude such as she was used to hear. She -spoke again, still in her most gracious and kindly -way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Moreover, Sir Grey, I have heard somewhat of -your history from his Grace of Marlborough, and it -doth appear to me that you have been scurvily -treated with respect to your rightful inheritance, the -manor of Hartsbourne, which, though your property, -you are debarred from enjoying. I have made strict -inquiry into this matter, and have sent down special -commissioners to seek speech with your kinsman now -in possession, and to make some settlement with him -for the restitution to you of the estate. It is not -fitting that one to whom the country and its Queen -owe a debt of gratitude should be ousted from his -inheritance either by the cunning craft of a greedy -miser, or for lack of means to satisfy a creditor and -release his lands from debt. From what hath been -told me, I misdoubt that unscrupulous means have -been employed to oust you from possession and -enjoyment of your house and lands. But whether or -not this be so, it is not fitting that things should -longer continue as now. Sir Grey Dumaresq of -Hartsbourne Manor must live upon his hereditary -acres in becoming style. That fiat hath already gone -forth. England's Queen and people will have it so. -It were shame to both if the preserver of her great -General should go unrewarded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the grace -bestowed upon him, could only sink upon his knees -before the Queen, murmuring some confused but -heartfelt words of gratitude and loyalty. The royal -lady gave him her hand to kiss, and looked smilingly -upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Grey," she said gently, "had you come hither -to the Court at once on your return, boasting of what -you had done, displaying the Duke's token, and -seeking fame and fortune for yourself, belike I should -have thought but little of the matter. I am for -ever hearing the petitions of those seeking great -things for themselves—seeking place, preferment, -emoluments, with or without desert. Had you come -thus, you had been lost in a crowd. I perchance -should scarce have heard your name. But you have -asked nothing for yourself. You endured hardship, -privation, misery; you thought not scorn to win your -bread—and the bread of another who had befriended -you—by following a humble vocation. With that in -your possession which would have at least placed you -above want, you faced want itself rather than stultify -your noble act by seeking to trade upon it. You -rather sought to win the fame you merit by using -those great gifts of poetry and art which it hath -pleased God to bestow upon you. Therefore are you -different from others; therefore hath your story -touched the heart of your Queen; therefore is her -favour won, in that she can value a man who seeks -and asks nothing for himself, but rather desires that -the glory of a noble deed shall be its own reward."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again she tendered her hand, which Grey kissed -in deepest reverence and gratitude. Then at a sign -from the Duchess, who had all this time been standing -behind the Queen's chair, he rose and made a -deep inclination.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank your Majesty a thousand times," he said -in a very low voice. "I have no words in which to -tell my gratitude, but I pray Heaven that in the future -I may have the opportunity to show how deep and true -that gratitude is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Deeds, and not words, will be your motto through -life, I take it, Sir Grey; and in such fashion shall -you best please your Queen and serve your country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Grey found himself, he scarce knew how, in -the outer room, thronged by courtiers and nobles -and gentlemen, all eager to make his acquaintance, -all agog to hear such parts of his story as were -yet unknown to them, and above all eager to read -the book of which it had pleased the Queen to speak -in such high praise. To these worthies Grey was -already a rising star, and they longed to bask in the -light of his rays.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Quietly and courteously Grey replied to direct -questions and to the advances showered upon him -by the Court; but he disengaged himself as quickly -as he could, and was glad to find himself in the -coach which had brought him, and on his way to -Marlborough House, where he was still a guest. For -although he had quickly mended from his hurts, -his hosts would not hear of his returning to his -old quarters; and the Old Lion had been equally -insistent on this point when Grey visited him, which -he did on the first opportunity, to tell in person his -marvellous tale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay, my boy; you are now Sir Grey Dumaresq, -and your life will run in different grooves. -I did guess from the first that you were not -what you seemed, and ever have I hoped that you -would be restored to your rightful position in the -world. As for me, I am well content. I have no lack -of tendance—thanks to the liberality of the Duke, -and to that wonderful personal visit he did pay me, -which has raised me to a pinnacle of glory in the -eyes of all men here. It contents me well to -know that I am not forgotten, that you still have kindly -thought to spare for the Old Lion. But for us to -dwell beneath the same roof would not now be fitting -or seemly. So think of that no more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When I have a roof of mine own I shall think of -it much," spoke Grey with quick decision; "but for -the nonce I am naught but a guest beneath that of -the hospitable Duke. Well, let it remain so in the -present; but for the future I make no pledge."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was more than a week now since those words -had been spoken, but they recurred to Grey's mind as -he was driven homewards through the sunny streets. -Hartsbourne! The name seemed to thrill in his -ears like a clarion note of joy. Hartsbourne—his -own old home—so well-beloved, so fair! Could it -be possible that he would be master there again? -The thought filled him with a sense akin to -intoxication. The blood mounted to his head; he almost -laughed aloud in his joy. Hartsbourne and its -revenues his own! His romance published, and -bringing him gold as well as fame! What might he not -accomplish? How often had he dreamed in bygone -years of what he would do for the restoration and -adornment of the beautiful old house, and how he -and his mother would live there in peace and happiness! -True, that last part of the dream could not be -realized now. His mother lay sleeping beneath the -churchyard sod. Her eyes beheld, he doubted not, -fairer sights than these. But yet, must his dream -be altogether without fulfilment? Was there none -other—nearer, dearer, if possible, than a mother—who -might be the sharer of his joys? Had he -not read something dazzling, wonderful, well-nigh -unbelievable, in one pair of sweet eyes whose light -seemed shining on him now? His lips had not dared -to frame as yet either question or protestation; but -did they not understand each other? His heart beat -high with rapture. Perfect love had cast out fear. -He knew that they belonged to each other for time -and for eternity. And now what hindered him from -taking her to his heart, and telling her that he had -loved her from the first moment of their meeting?</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Duke sat in his private closet, where he -transacted his more important business, and Grey stood -before him, having been summoned thither from his -own apartments. He was received with a pleasant -smile, and bidden to be seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my young friend," questioned the Duke, -who, having been absent from home for a few days, -had not seen his guest in private just recently, "and -how has the world been serving you? And how -goes the matter of the book?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, I must tell you of that. I had, as your -Grace did warn me, quite a levee of publishers -desiring to issue it, each with some tempting offer as to -payment. But I did as you bade me, and referred -the matter to Mr. Poysner, by whose advice, I told -them, I should be guided. And, in sooth, methinks -he hath advised well; for not only have I received a -handsome sum in gold already for the work, but I -shall receive more according to the sale; and it is -even now being printed as fast as the presses can -work. Her Majesty is to have the first copy, bound -with the choicest skill that can be brought to bear -upon such work. Other choicely-bound volumes are -to be reserved for my friends, after which it will be -sold to the public; and already they say that the -book is being eagerly asked for. Truly the word of -a Queen and the patronage of the great are mighty -factors in the world of letters!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As men of letters are fast learning, my young -friend," replied the Duke with a smile. "Genius -without a patron is like (as some wag remarked -not long since) 'Paradise Lost' without the devil! -It falls flat and unfruitful on unheeding ears. But -now for another matter of import to yourself. Have -you had news from Hartsbourne since her Majesty -did speak to you anent that matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, my lord; I have heard nothing. My servant -Dick was sent thither by request to answer certain -questions made by her Majesty's messengers, but he -hath not yet returned, and I know nothing of what -has transpired there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face expressed a keen desire for information, -and the Duke at once satisfied this wish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something strange has happened there which -simplifies matters not a little. Your kinsman, -Mr. Dumaresq, when questioned by the Queen's -Commissioners as to his rights and position there, showed -a number of papers which seemed on the face of -them fair and right; but his uneasiness was manifest, -and awoke suspicion. Also it was not clear that he -possessed all the rights he claimed over the estate, or -that Sir Hugh had signed all the papers; for upon -some the writing of the name looked to practised -eyes little like his. The more Mr. Dumaresq was -questioned, the more uneasy did he become. So they -left him that day, saying that they would come again -on the morrow and finish the inquiry. By that time -your man Dick had arrived, and he with an old man -upon the place had long talk with the messengers that -night in the old man's room. It seems as though -Mr. Dumaresq or his servant must have had some way -of listening to what passed. A terrible suspicion was -broached that your father's end was hastened by foul -means. This was a point which the Commissioners -declared must be thoroughly investigated later. They -went away, but on the morrow returned—to find -Mr. Dumaresq dead in his bed. His servant said he had -been subject to seizures of late, and that agitation -had probably caused the attack. Old Jock Jarvis -and your man Dick are, however, strongly of opinion -that he precipitated his own end by the use of -perhaps the very same drug which he is suspected of -having employed in your father's case. Be that as it -may, the man is dead, and he has died without a will, -so that whether or not he was ever legally entitled to -what he so long held, you are now absolute master of -Hartsbourne and all its revenues, without the need -of any action or interference upon the part of the -lawyers of the Queen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey stood like one in a dream. He could scarce -take in the meaning of it all. He had known that -Hartsbourne was to be restored to him—he had had -the Queen's word for that—but he had expected -vexatious delays, complications, and difficulties. He had -not dared to let himself hope to escape these. And -now the Gordian knot had been cut—cut in a rather -terrible fashion, perhaps, but still effectually cut. -He was absolute master of his own again. He could -ride to Hartsbourne and take possession so soon as -his kinsman was laid to rest in the grave, where all -enmity and all unhallowed secrets are buried. He -had not found his tongue to express his feelings before -the door opened and a secretary glided in and -whispered something into the Duke's ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He comes in good time," spoke Marlborough; "let -him enter at once. Probably he brings news of the -matter in hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey looked up, and behold there was Dick, -travel-stained and bespattered with mud, but with a -glowing, eager face, evidently full of news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, sirrah," spoke the Duke, smiling, "so you -have come post haste with news. What wonderful -tidings do you bring?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man made his semi-military salute, first to -the Duke and then to his master. He needed no -further encouragement in order to unburden himself -of his tale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May it please your Grace, and you, my master, I -have news of a wonderful discovery made by Jock -and myself at Hartsbourne at dawn to-day. We -have had our eye sharp upon old Judas, as we call -Mr. Barty's wall-eyed Peter; and we have known -right well that he has been up to some trick of his -own ever since his master died. He has been -prowling like a wild beast all about the house. We have -heard him knocking and even sawing, when he -thought himself alone there. It was old Jock to -whom the thought first came. 'The old man has -some secret hoard; and Judas knows of it, but not the -place. He is looking for it, trying to find it ere he is -turned out. Well, that is a game that two can play at. -You and I will look too, Dicon.' That is what old -Jock said. Whilst Mr. Dumaresq was buried, and his -man must for decency's sake go and stand beside -the grave, we searched the house from basement to -garret; but we had no more luck than Judas had."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you have had luck ere this, honest fellow; I -see it in your eyes," spoke Marlborough with a laugh. -"Come, let us know what you found, and what is the -value of the treasure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was to me the thought came," spoke Dick, with -honest pride. "I was lying awake at night puzzling -and pondering, when suddenly I remembered that first -and only night you spent there, master, and how that -you saw the old man suddenly appear behind your -bed with a shining knife in his hand, and that he -vanished ere you could grapple with him, and it -seemed more like a vision than a reality. But I -sprang from my bed, and I roused old Jock, and I -yelled in his ear, 'Man, man, I know where the -treasure is hid! Behind the wall of the tapestried -guest-chamber, where my master slept, and where the -wall did move from behind the bed head, and let his -foe steal upon him unawares!'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good thought!" ejaculated Grey excitedly; "and -was it so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We rose and dressed, and made our way into the -house and up to the bed-chamber, and a tough job -we had. And, my master, you must pardon us for -the havoc we have made of woodwork and panelling; -for the trick of the opening we could not find till all -had been hewn away. But when it was at last laid -bare, we saw the spring, and then the wall swung -inwards with a noiseless, ghostlike motion, and within -was a secret chamber well-nigh filled with coffers, -some containing jewels—Dumaresq jewels, I doubt -not—some gold pieces, some silver vessels. We did -not open all. We had found enough. Master, there -are the savings of years—the revenues of the broad -lands which were paid to him—stowed away in yonder -chamber. Oh, I can almost forgive him his villainies, -now that all hath come to you! It is all there: it is -all safe. We did pack Judas off with his wages and -his belongings, and his master's clothes, which, I trow, -none will grudge him; and we did get in a few trusty -fellows from the place who hate Barty and long to -see Sir Grey reigning at Hartsbourne again. And -having made all safe, and the house in charge, under -Jock, of these trusty lads, I did take horse forthwith -to bring the news to my master, and here am I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you shall not lose your reward, my trusty -Dicon," spoke Grey with fervour; "for the love and -trust of a loyal heart is worth more than treasure -and gold."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="love-s-triumphing"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">LOVE'S TRIUMPHING.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Mother, I cannot. I have tried—in all -truth, I have. But it is all of no avail. I -cannot love Lord Sandford. I cannot be his wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You could be his wife very well, if you chose -obstinate girl; and as for loving him—poof!—love -matters little when there is wealth and title, broad -lands, and all that heart can desire into the bargain. -You put me out of all patience with your mincing -ways and disdainful airs. What more do you want -than Lord Sandford offers? Does a countess's coronet -not satisfy you? Do you desire to be a duchess, and -take precedence of your own mother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Lady Romaine brought her ivory fan down -upon her daughter's shoulder with a tap that was -almost like a blow. Tears of vexation and -disappointment stood in her eyes. In her hand -held an open letter, across the bottom of which the -word "Sandford" could be easily read, traced in a -large and firm hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before Geraldine had found words in which to -reply, Lady Romaine had burst out again more -petulantly than ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To think of all the trouble I have been at with -you! Do you think I want a great lumbering girl, -looking ten years older than her years, and with all -the affectations of a Quaker—horrid people!—in her -gait and dress and speech, for ever in my train? Do -you think it is pleasant for me to hear men laughing -at your prim ways and silly scruples, and wondering -where you learned them? Do you know what they -call you behind your back? 'Mistress "No, I thank -you, sir."' Faugh! it makes me sick. Who are you, -to hold up your opinions against the whole world? -It makes me blush with shame and anger. And then, -when I have gotten you a suitor in one of the best -known nobles of the gay town, and reckon to have -you off my hands and in the keeping of a husband -who will know how to deal with your airs and graces, -you must needs turn stubborn as a mule, and refuse -his offer. Lard! it makes me sick to think I should -have such a daughter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very sorry that you are vexed, mother," -answered Geraldine quietly, "but my father does not -seem greatly to desire the match with my Lord -Sandford. He did speak of it to me awhile back, but of -late I have heard nothing anent the matter from him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tush, girl! your father is no judge in such matters. -He is wrapped up in politics, and has no thought to -spare for other things more close at home. And -because, forsooth, Lord Sandford finds the Court too -dull for him, and is seen there but seldom, your father -must needs think lightly of him. As though half the -gayest and most fashionable of the younger nobility -did not eschew the deadly dullness of the Queen's -presence-chamber! Why, I should die of boredom in -a week had I to dance attendance on her Majesty. -Lord Sandford shows his good sense by staying -away. Oh to hear the tales some of them tell! -Saints preserve me from the like!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine answered no word. She hoped that the -had now blown itself out. Not to her mother -could she speak of those tender, wonderful, beautiful -thoughts and hopes and feelings which had lately -come into her life. In her heart of hearts she knew -herself beloved of Grey Dumaresq—knew that it would -not be long ere he declared himself. She had heard -also rumours of what the world was saying about -him—that his name was becoming known to all men, -and that he was regarded as one who would rise to -eminence and prosperity. But it was not for these -things that she loved him. Her heart had been his -long before—almost before she knew it herself—in -the days of his poverty and obscurity, when she -dreamed of him, rather than thought consciously, -wondering whither he had gone, and what he was -doing, and whether he was holding fast to the -resolutions he had made. She knew how her heart had -leaped at sight of him in the guise of the Youth—how -he had flown to her rescue before all others when -peril menaced her. Then her eyes had been opened -to the love which had sprung up all unknown in -her heart; but she had lost him once more, only to -find him again in the unknown champion who had -risked his life, without knowing for whom he did it, -in the dark streets of London some few weeks back -now. Since then she had seen him but once, and -their words had been few, but their eyes had spoken -more eloquently than their lips, and she knew that -she had only to possess her soul in patience, and that -all would be well. The Duke and the Duchess were -her friends: that would be enough, and more than -enough, for her father. As for Lady Romaine, she -had always been the warm advocate of Lord Sandford's -suit, and being ignorant of what was passing -elsewhere, jealous of her daughter's friendship with -the Duchess, wrapped up in her own trivial round of -vanity and pleasure, imagined that the only way of -getting rid of the incubus of this grave and stately -daughter was by marrying her off-hand to the only -suitor whom the girl had ever tolerated for a moment. -Therefore this absolute refusal on Geraldine's part, -and the indifference of Lord Romaine, who had merely -told her he would not have the girl forced to any -such step against her will, awoke in her a chagrin and -vexation which were hard to bear, and which vented -themselves in positive tears of passion and pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you shall give the man his dismissal yourself, -you minx, you obstinate hussy!" cried the -enraged lady at last, flinging down the letter upon the -table. "He says he will come to hear his fate -to-morrow evening, and I vow I will have no hand in -the telling of the tale of your shilly-shally and folly. -Here have you been leading him on all these months—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, that is not true," spoke Geraldine, rising -to her feet and flashing one of her strange, earnest -glances full upon her mother's face; "I did never -lead him on. I did never encourage him. I did but -obey your strict injunctions to speak with him, to -make his acquaintance, to try if so be that I might -learn to return the affection with which he professed -to honour me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And was that not enough to encourage him, in -one who played the prude or the vixen so well in -other quarters?" fumed Lady Romaine. "That you, -who chose to send away every other man who addressed -compliments to you with a flea in his ear—that -you should suffer him to attend upon you, and seem -to take pleasure in his converse—was not that -enough? Why make yourself the talk of the town -with him, to send him away now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The injustice of this accusation caused the girl's -cheek to flame; but she retained her self-control, and -answered gently: "Methinks you are hard to please, -mother; for whether I send men away or listen to -them awhile, I am always in the wrong. I did but do -your bidding in the matter of Lord Sandford, and I -do not deny that I found him ofttimes an interesting -talker, and that for a while I was willing to regard -him as a friend. But then, as I came to know more -and to hear more, my opinion was forced to change. -I fear me that Lord Sandford himself did change, and -for the worse. Nevertheless, I would not judge him; -only this I say—that I cannot and I will not marry him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then go your own way and die a spinster, soured -with your own tempers and megrims!" cried Lady -Romaine in a towering passion, as she swept from the -room, her high heels clattering on the polished floor, -her draperies making an angry hissing, like that of a -snake disturbed. "I wash my hands of you from -this time forth. Give Lord Sandford his dismissal -yourself, and lose me one of my best and most useful -friends. That is always the way with daughters. -Young vipers they should be called!" And having -now reached the door, Lady Romaine passed out and -banged it hard behind her, as a further mark of her -displeasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine, left alone, took up the letter and read it. -It contained a definite proposal for her hand, was -written to her mother (always Lord Sandford's friend -and ally in this), and asked leave for the writer to -present himself upon the following evening to learn his -fate. The girl raised her eyes with a start, for it was -upon the following day that the Duke and Duchess -had invited themselves to dine with Lord and Lady -Romaine, and to bring with them a guest whom they -desired to present afresh to their hosts. Lady -Romaine had shrugged her shoulders and professed to -be bored at the prospect, though in reality somewhat -gratified at the idea of entertaining such illustrious -guests. Her lord had been undisguisedly gratified, -and believing the invitation in some sort due to his -daughter, had regarded her with increased favour. -But as Geraldine revolved the situation, it seemed to -her a strange and rather dangerous complication that -Lord Sandford should appear upon that very night; -for was it not said that he and Sir Grey Dumaresq -had quarrelled bitterly, and that the former had even -sought to compass the life of his friend?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine went to seek her father, but he was not -to be found. Her mother refused her entrance into -her rooms, and the girl was forced to await the result -of the following evening without communicating her -vague fears to any one. After all, who would be likely -to heed them, and what could she say? It was only -the vaguest rumours she had heard; the rest was -but her own intuitions, which others would never -consider.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Sir Grey Dumaresq, let me present you to my -daughter, Lady Geraldine Adair, whom you will -perhaps lead to the dinner-table when the time comes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So spoke Lord Romaine, his face beaming with -gratification and pleasure. The Duke and Duchess -had arrived, the last of the select company invited -for that day, and the Duke had held a short, -low-toned conversation with his host, which had brought -many gratified smiles to the face of his interlocutor. -Now Geraldine's hand was within that of the young -baronet, and her voice trembled a little as she said to -her father,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Grey and I have met before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah yes; I believe that is so. But Sir Grey's -appearance was something too brief and meteor-like -that last time. Now I hope he comes as a fixed star -to shine steadily in the sky. If all we hear be true, -his brilliance will add a lustre to the times in which -he lives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do me too much honour, sir," answered Grey -a bow; but there was no time for more, for the -company was already moving, and Geraldine's hand -was upon his arm, and the delicate fragrance which -seemed always to cling about her brought a strange -intoxication to his senses, which made speech at the -first difficult to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps she shared this feeling, for she was silent -too; but the delicate flush upon her face, and the -soft shining of her eyes, enhanced her beauty to an -extent which made many marvel that they had not -observed it before. Now and again the eyes of the -undeclared lovers met in a quick, eloquent glance; -but for a while they did not directly address one -another, for the table was silent, listening to the -words of the Duke, who was addressing his host, -and discussing with him some matter of general -interest. It was only later on, when the hum of -talk became more dispersed, that Geraldine was able -to say in a low voice,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have heard of the success of your book. It -has made my heart glad and happy. I did read -some or it ere it went to the Queen. I thought it -more beautiful than I can say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It should be beautiful, in all sooth, fair lady," -answered Grey in a very low voice, "for the thought -of it was inspired by the looks and words of one who -is of all living creatures the fairest, the purest, the -most precious. If my poor work meets with success -in the world, it will be due not to any skill of mine, -but to the goodness of two gracious ladies, one who -inspired and the other who approved its motive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine's face burned; there was a great joy in -her heart. She could not misunderstand the look he -bent upon her. Could it indeed be true that she had -had any part or lot in this matter? The thought -was bewildering, unspeakable. She sat as one in a -dream. She heard him tell softly the tale of those -strange events which had brought him unexpected -wealth and prosperity. She realized that the time -of trial and poverty and struggle was over, and -that the sun of success was shining in his sky, -and her heart was glad within her. Yet she -rejoiced to think that he had faced privation and -poverty bravely, and had sought by no unworthy way -to mend his broken fortunes. She had trusted him -and loved him in the hour of darkness: she was -not ashamed to admit it now; she was proud and -glad that it had been so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later on in the evening they found themselves -together and alone in the little room at the far end -of the reception suite, where they could talk -undisturbed and unheard. It was sweet with the scent -of violets, and the soft light of the wax candles in -silver sconces illumined it only dimly. He closed -the door, and let the curtain fall across it, and -then he held out his uninjured hand to her. The -broken arm, though mending fast, was still in a -sling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Geraldine! my beloved!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went straight to him then, like a bird to its -nest. No protestations were needed between them. -They loved each other, and they knew it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How long they had been alone, they did not know—time -flies so quickly at times like these. It seemed -but a few minutes to them, though it might well -have been an hour, when the handle of the door was -turned, and the curtain drawn back. Geraldine -uttered a little cry of startled amaze. It was Lord -Sandford who hail entered, and she had forgotten -his very existence!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had her mother, in one of her spiteful moods, told -him that he would find her here? It was not impossible; -and the girl's face grew a little white, for Lord -Sandford's rapier dangled at his side, as was indeed -the fashion of the times, and he was a man upon whose -hot passions nobody could absolutely reckon. Strange -stories had been told of him before this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young Earl stood for a moment framed in the -doorway, his powerful face set in lines the meaning of -which it were hard to read aright. Grey had risen -and stood close to Geraldine, his eyes fixed vigilantly -upon the massive figure of the man who had once -been his friend. To the girl it seemed as though -their eyes met, and glanced one against the other, -like the blades of duellists in a preliminary pass. -Her breath came thick and fast. She felt the -anxious, tumultuous beating of her heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford was the first to break the tense -silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Geraldine, I came hither to-night to receive -an answer to the offer of marriage which I sent to -you through your mother, Lady Romaine. Is this -the answer you have prepared for me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked straight at the girl, and then at Grey, -with a wide, unabashed gaze that did not shrink or -falter. Grey made one step forward, and spoke in -low, quiet tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My lord, you may receive your answer at my -hands, for the Lady Geraldine Adair is now my -promised wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Geraldine," spoke Lord Sandford, "is this -the truth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is, my lord, albeit I had not meant to give you -your answer in such like fashion. I thank you for -the honour you have done me; but my heart is given -elsewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right!" spoke Lord Sandford, in his resonant -and emphatic tones. He had dropped the curtain -behind him, and now came forward several paces. -His face was not easy to read, but he held his -head proudly, and looked the lovers straight in -the eyes. "I would not have it otherwise, Lady -Geraldine; for you have chosen well. You have -chosen such an one as you must needs choose. -Like will seek like; virtue, fidelity, purity, and -honour must fly upward, will not be dragged -downward. I saw it from the first; and at the first I -rebelled. I swore it should not be so. I stooped -to dishonour to remove an obstacle from my path. -I thought I had succeeded; but soon I knew I had -not advanced my cause one whit. I was rightly -served. I did wrong with open eyes. I sinned, -as it were, with a cart-rope; and I have had my -deserts. I lost my friend, but I won no wife. I -was outwitted, at every point. I went on hoping. -I am not a man who easily gives up what my -heart is set on. Up to the last I hoped to win. -But yesterday, after my letter was written and -dispatched, I knew that I was beaten at every -point."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yesterday," faltered Geraldine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Even so, lady. I have been absent from town -of late; but yesterday in the afternoon I returned. -I went as usual to the coffee-house to learn the news, -and I learnt it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Sandford's gaze flashed full upon Grey. He -stood squarely in front of him, and held out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grey Dumaresq, I did once seek to do you a -great and a grievous wrong. I confess the same -with shame of heart. Will you accept my hand -in friendship now, and with it my heartiest good -wishes for your happiness in life with the lady of -your choice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey did not hesitate; his hand was in Lord -Sandford's, clasping it close. All was forgotten, at -that moment save the old attraction and fascination -which this man had exercised upon him from the first.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I love the lady of your choice," spoke the Earl, -without the faintest shade of hesitation in his tone. -"I have loved her long. I doubt me if ever I shall -love another in like fashion. And because I love -her with every best and truest feeling of my heart, -so am I able to desire above all else in the world her -best happiness. That happiness she will find with -you rather than with me. I am not fool enough -not to know that. If I could have won her, I -would have sought to make her happy. I swear -it before God! But having failed, I yet desire -above all things to see her happy with the man of -her choice; and I say that she has chosen wisely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was indeed a triumph of love. The innate -strength and nobility of this man's nature had been -brought out by the honest fervour of his love. He -had enough greatness of soul to be able to give the -right hand of fellowship to his successful rival, though -he himself must forego that happiness which he had -long been seeking to attain. Grey felt that in the -days that were to come Lord Sandford must needs -show himself in different colours from those of the -past. This victory must surely be a stepping-stone -on which he would rise to higher and nobler things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Geraldine now stood before him, all shrinking over, -her eyes alight with pure womanly gratitude, -admiration, and affection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you, my lord, for such good words. -Forgive me if I have ever misjudged you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, lady, you never did that; you did but -appraise me too truly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet I had ever some liking for you, my lord—think -it not otherwise—save when I thought, I feared—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes; I know, I understand. Friendship -you had for me, so long as I deserved it; but -love—never. And you were right, Lady Geraldine; you -were right to withhold that. Perchance if your sweet -eyes, like wells of liquid light, had not seen so clearly, -had not read the secrets I sought to hide, my own -love might not have blazed so fiercely. It is ever the -unattainable which men desire to possess. But let us -think of that no more. Let us bury the past, and -live anew in the future. Friendship is left to us—a -friendship which, I trust, will last a lifetime." And so -speaking he turned once more to Grey, and said with -a smile lighting his face,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And shall I, for a wedding-gift, restore to you -your good horse, Don Carlos, at present in my stables -at St. Albans?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke so freely and openly that Grey heard -him in amaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you Don Carlos?" spoke Geraldine, much -astonished. "I did think that he was stolen from Sir -Grey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so think I; but I have had no hand in that -business, save that I did hear something of the -matter, and fearing foul play I resolved to become -master of the gallant beast. Grey had disappeared, -I knew not where. My evil anger had burned itself -out, and I loathed myself for what I had done in the -past. I thought that I might perchance make some -reparation by purchasing the good horse he loved, -since I heard it was to be sold, that I might keep it -awhile, and restore it to its owner if kind fortune -gave me the chance. It seemed to me all the amends -I might ever make to the steed and his rider for the -mischief I sought once to do to both. So, my friend, -the horse is yours whensoever you like to lay claim to -him. I restore him the more readily in that none -of my people can ride him. He brooks not long a -strange rider on his back. He has condescended to -carry me for a brief while, but he goes unwillingly; -he frets after his old master. He would win no races -for a new one. So tell me only where and when to -deliver him, and you shall have him so soon as you -desire. I trow the old miser of Hartsbourne, who, -I hear, is now dead, filched him from you by subtlety, -for you would never sell your friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey, ashamed of the thoughts he had harboured -against Lord Sandford in this matter, told the whole -tale of the creature's disappearance; but he added, -with a smile,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suspect that whatever price you paid for him is -lying in one of the coffers now discovered in the old -house, and I will gladly buy him back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay; that must not be. It is my wedding-gift -to you or to your gentle lady here; and all I ask -is, that upon some future day you will suffer me to -visit you in your wedded home at Hartsbourne, and -see Don Carlos and his master united once more."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="merry-as-a-marriage-bell"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MERRY AS A MARRIAGE BELL.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The brilliant light of a sunny June morning was -illumining the private chapel, where a marriage -was being solemnized in presence of the Queen, and -of certain favoured persons connected with the Court, -of whom the Duchess of Marlborough was one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duke himself was in Holland, whither he had -gone so soon as the army was able to leave its winter -quarters. The year of victory, from which he had -returned a few months before, was destined to be -followed by a year of disaster to the Allies, and already -the brow of the Duchess seemed somewhat clouded by -care. She had her own troubles, too, at Court. The -Queen's favour was distinctly waning, and the -imperious temper of the Duchess knew not how to put up -with what seemed to her coldness or slights. She -felt the influence of Harley, and of her kinswoman -and his, Mrs. Masham, gaining ground daily; and the -presage of coming trouble seemed to be hanging over -her now. Yet she bore herself bravely, and to-day -her face was wreathed in smiles; for Sir Grey -Dumaresq was her particular favourite, and had been her -guest for a great part of the year, whenever he was -in town; and the Queen's interest in the young man -and his career and success was one of the strongest -links which still bound them together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And to-day Grey Dumaresq was to wed the Lady -Geraldine, and the Queen had decreed that the -ceremony should take place at an early hour in her own -private chapel in Kensington Palace, that she might -witness the nuptials herself; for she had been greatly -pleased by the beauty and modesty and gentleness of -Geraldine, who had been presented to her by the -Duchess, and she desired to show her approval of the -young baronet's choice by her own presence at his -espousals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Romaine had forgotten her anger and jealousy -against her daughter in her pride and delight at the -honour bestowed upon them. It had pleased her to -speak slightingly of the Queen and her Court at such -times as she had been uncertain of the nature of her -own reception there; but now she could not boast -sufficiently of the condescension and kindness of the -Queen, of her intimacy with the Duchess, and of the -favour in which her son-in-law-elect was held by -royalty and by all the Court. The matron had even -found it well to throw aside some of those frivolities -and follies that hitherto had been jealously retained, -as giving her favour in the eyes of the young bloods -of fashion, with whom she had been wont to amuse -herself. Her ready observation told her that she was -derided for these by graver persons, and that at the -Court they would hinder rather than help her advance -to favour. With quick adaptability, she had sought -to model herself upon the graver ladies surrounding -the Queen, and even to emulate the Duchess of -Marlborough in her stately dignity of demeanour. If she -had not succeeded in this, she had at least gained -much that had hitherto been lacking, and her husband -and daughter rejoiced heartily in the change. If some -of her admirers forsook her, she found their place -taken by men of far greater standing, who regarded -Lord Romaine as a man likely to be useful to his -party, and paid a certain polished court to his -handsome wife. The lady began to talk politics now, to -discuss the Act of Union, the Occasional Conformity -Bill, and other topics of the day, with an air of interest -and knowledge; and being gifted with considerable -quickness and powers of assimilation and reproduction, -she was soon able to hold her own, and pass for a -woman of acuteness and observation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had found her daughter of great use to her at -the first, for Geraldine was remarkably well educated, -and had a very clear notion of the state of parties -and the history of public movements. All her stores -of information were at her mother's disposal, and so a -new link had been formed between them during the -months of the girl's betrothal, and instead of the -mother's looking forward with delight to being rid of -the incubus of a grown-up daughter, she was disposed -to be pathetic over the separation and her own -personal loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now this was a very happy change for Geraldine, -for the lack of a mother's love had been very keenly -felt by her. Her face, as she stood at the altar, -plighting her troth to the man she loved, was full of -a wonderful happiness and joy—a different face from -the grave and almost wistful one of the past; different, -and yet with an enhanced beauty which riveted the -eyes of all beholders, and caused the Queen to wipe -her eyes with her lace kerchief as she gazed, whisper -softly in the ear of one of her ladies,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah me! it is good to be young and beloved! -Heaven send she may never know aught to dim that -joy and that love!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Grey's happiness and joy was no whit less than -that of his bride, and was written almost as clear upon -his face. Bride and bridegroom were both clad in -white, as became the season and the ceremony; and -the young man's gleaming whiteness was well set off -by the gorgeous colours of Lord Sandford's attire, as -he stood beside him as his supporter and "best -man." This he did by his own request, and with the ready -consent of the Queen. She had been told enough of -Lord Sandford to be interested in that rather -remarkable personage. She had given him audience more -than once, and had intrusted him earlier in the year -with a special embassy to the Duke of Marlborough -and Prince Eugene, which he had so ably carried out -that it was whispered he was likely to obtain more -such secret service errands. It was the sort of work -for which he was eminently fitted, and the -responsibility had sobered him and kept in check all -disposition on his part to break out into any of the wild -excesses with which he had been wont to amuse -himself in order to while away the time. He was now -setting to work to get his affairs into order. Having -failed to win the fortune of the heiress, he had to -turn his mind to other methods. He had sold his -horses for large sums to the gilded dandies who -fluttered about him, and with some heavy winnings -at the card-tables he paid off a number of his debts, -and began to feel like a free man. The sale of his -property at St. Albans, which he no longer wanted, -enabled him to pay off a mortgage upon his ancestral -acres; and with a little care and moderate luck in -gaming (for Lord Sandford was not possessed of the -scruples which had harassed Grey, and which were -far in advance of his day), he hoped soon to retrieve -the position of a man of wealth and position, which -he had been inclined to fling away for the pleasures -of a careless and vicious age.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His friendship with Grey Dumaresq, strangely begun, -and strangely broken, was now cemented afresh, and -seemed likely to last and to increase. It was by his -own wish that he stood beside him on his marriage -day. He had so schooled himself that he could do -this without pain, and he would have grudged the -place to any other, claiming his own right as being -Grey's oldest available friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now the brief ceremony was ended. Sir Grey -and his bride came down from the steps of the altar -to receive the felicitations and gratulations of their -friends. The Queen kissed the bride upon her brow, -wished her happiness, and presented her with a -beautiful clasp of diamonds and pearls, which she -took from the laces about her throat, and bade the -young wife wear for her sake. Then when the royal -lady had taken her departure, and the little -procession had left the chapel, other friends and -well-wishers crowded round, prophesying happiness and -all other good things to the youthful pair. They -streamed out—a rainbow-tinted bevy—into the -courtyard, where coaches waited to convey them -to the wedding feast at Lord Romaine's house; -and this they found laid out in </span><em class="italics">al fresco</em><span> fashion -beneath the trees of the beautiful old garden, which -had been Geraldine's place of refuge for so long, -and to which she would be half sorry now to bid -farewell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember, sweetheart," whispered Grey -in her ear, as they stood together and a little apart at -the conclusion of the banquet—"do you remember -that summer morning a year ago when I did hear -you singing, and could not keep away?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember! Do I ever forget it as I stand here -looking at the shining river? Ah dear my lord, -methinks it was upon that day that my heart first -did leave mine own keeping, albeit it was long ere I -knew it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could we but have seen how it would be a year -hence with us, how little would the clouds and -darkness which followed have disturbed and troubled our -peace!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet methinks, dear love, it is better not to -know; for so do we learn to trust the love of our -heavenly Father, and to put our faith and confidence -in Him. So He leads us from darkness into light, -and our hearts are filled with love and gratitude -towards Him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grey bent and kissed her on the brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall teach me more of your pure faith and -love, my wife, that we may be one in all things."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Don Carlos was pawing the stones of the courtyard, -in fretted impatience which Dick had some ado to -curb. Beside him stood a light, graceful barb, -bearing a lady's saddle on his back. A little in the rear -were some half-dozen horses and some liveried -servants. The clock in the tower of Lord Romaine's -house had just struck the hour of three.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doors were flung open wide, and forth there -came a gay company of guests, all eager to speed -upon their way the newly-wedded pair. These had -changed their wedding finery for riding dress. Grey -wore his favourite workman-like suit of fine buff, -stamped in silver, with white buckskin breeches and -long boots. His lady was habited in a riding-dress of -white face-cloth, with lacings of golden cord, a white -hat with a drooping plume, and long white gauntlet -gloves. Her palfrey was snow-white too, as became -the bearer of a bride; and as Grey swung her deftly -to her saddle, the pretty creature curveted and pranced, -as though in pride at bearing so fair a burden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next minute the bridegroom had leaped upon -Don Carlos, and both riders were waving their hands -in response to the eager clamour of gratulation and -farewell which sprang to the lips of the bystanders. -Smiling and waving his hat, Grey put Don Carlos at -a trot, and the little procession swept out of the -courtyard in all the glory of the summer afternoon, with -the voices of their friends sounding gaily in their ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall be at Hartsbourne ere the day dies, -sweet wife," spoke Grey, as he looked up at the -sunny sky. "You will not be fatigued by the ride, -after all you have gone through? You would not -rather spend a night upon the way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah no; this is rest," answered Geraldine, as her -light, mettlesome palfrey cantered gently alongside the -stalwart Don Carlos. "I could ride for ever through -this clear, soft sunshine, with the wind fanning our -faces. Nay, nay, but we will reach Hartsbourne -to-night. Have I not waited long enough to see my -future home, O tyrant husband, who would not take -me there before?" and a laugh sparkled in her eyes -as she spoke these words, for it had always been one -of their cherished jests that not till she came there -as his wife should she look upon the beauties and the -charms of Hartsbourne.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you desire it then so much, dearest?" he -asked. "It was my wish that it should be made a -meet and fitting home for you ere I did bring you -thither. It looked so desolate when I reached it after -being long absent. I did desire to take away that -air of desolation ere your dear eyes should behold it. -Yet had I thought you wished it so much—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish nothing but to do your will, good my -lord," she answered, with a look in her eyes that set -his heart beating tumultuously within him. "And is -not this worth waiting for? Can any sight of it be -precious as this one will be, when my husband takes -me home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had distanced their servants, and were riding -alone in the lane; for they skirted the great city -instead of passing through it, and kept to the softer, -pleasanter tracks through fields and woodlands; so he -could reach forth and take her hand, and hold it in -his as they rode onwards with free elastic stride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My beloved, my beloved, my beloved!" he replied, -and his tongue refused all other words.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The glory of the summer sunset was in the sky as -they breasted the last wooded ridge which hid them -from the hollow in which Hartsbourne lay. The -woods, shimmering in their exquisite dress of golden -green, seemed to take fire from the level glory of the -ruddy rays lying across them. The waving grass -tossed like a restless sea of light, as the breeze played -over it; and the birds in the thickets, silent during -the hours of heat, now burst into liquid melody to -sing to rest the dying day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Halting at the top of the ridge, as Grey had -halted there so long ago, as it now seemed to him, -he pointed downwards with his whip, and there was -a little quiver in his voice as he said,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yonder, in that hollow, lies our home. You can -scarce see it for the screen of the trees; but you will -see it anon—there where the shining stream meanders -and the glades of the wood open out. Come, let us -leave the road, and ride through my favourite glade. -So shall I show you a glimpse of your home, where -to my eyes it looks the fairest."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They moved along side by side. The horses' feet -made scarce a sound, sunk deep in grass and moss. -The golden glamour of the beech wood encircled -them, lights and shadows played hide-and-seek along -the sward, flowers gemmed the hollows, and the breath -of the honeysuckle was sweet to their senses as they -pursued their way. The deer got up in haste at their -approach, and scuttled away into deeper shadow; and -squirrels and rabbits whisked hither and thither, -astonished at this sudden invasion of their silvan solitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the bride and bridegroom scarce exchanged a -word; their hearts were well-nigh too full. The -happiness was almost oppressive. Suddenly Grey -paused, and, drawing her a little to the left, pointed -through an opening in the trees and said,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is your home, my dearest!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She saw it then, and her heart gave a great throb. -They were looking upon the west front of the gray -old house, no longer lying desolate, forlorn, shut up, -its windows broken or shuttered, neglect and decay -everywhere. No, all that was changed now. The -windows shone between their carved mullions; the -creepers which curtained the walls had been cut and -trained, so that they could bloom and breathe once -more, instead of hanging in vast masses, almost -broken down by their own weight. The last of the -sunlight gilded the tracery of oriel window and ancient -carving; lay like a caress upon the smooth green of -the wide terrace in front, with its clipped yew trees, its -stone vases and statues, and its ancient sundial. Two -stately peacocks walked up and down, uttering from -time to time their strange, melancholy trumpet note. A -great hound rose up from a sheltered corner, threw his -head into the air, sniffed for a few moments, and then -bounded towards them with a mighty baying sound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our first welcome, dear heart," spoke Grey. "This -is one of the guardians of Hartsbourne's treasure. -Well, he must learn that he has a new and a greater -treasure to guard now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hound knew the master well. He fawned -upon him with delight; and, after having gravely -sniffed at Geraldine's proffered hand, took her once -and for all beneath his protection, and shared the -love of his faithful heart betwixt her and her lord.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young wife slipped from her saddle as they -reached the little wooden bridge which led over the -stream, and the servants coming up in a few moments -took the horses round by the road, whilst husband -and wife went onwards with the hound in attendance, -up the sloping greensward, where flowers gemmed -the borders, and roses gave forth their sweetness upon -the evening air; through the gardens, already -partially restored, and in time to be made yet more -beautiful; towards the house which was their home, -lying dim and dreamlike in the gathering twilight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear heart, we are at home. Welcome to Hartsbourne!" -spoke he. And she could only lift her -quivering lips to his, for she had no words in which -to answer him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so they passed into the ancient house together, -to receive the loving greetings of their retainers and -servants, who all knew the master by this time, and -were eager and joyfully ready to receive the bride of -his choice. Old Jock was there, in the glory of his -new place as house-steward, the tears of joy standing -in his eyes as he kissed the hand the lady graciously -extended, when she thanked him for his protestations -of devotion, and told him how she had heard of his -fidelity to his master. It was all so happy, so full -of simple joy and good will. She read affection to -her lord in every face; she saw by the flower-decked -rooms and the loving care everywhere visible throughout -the quaint old house how much all had desired -that this home-coming should bring joy to their -hearts and bespeak the welcome of loving service. -That was more to her than the beauty of the things -her eyes rested upon—the soft hangings, the quaint -carvings, the pictures, the plenishings, the rare and -costly objects which met her gaze at every turn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were found in the secret chamber, most of -them," Grey told her as, after having supped, they -walked hand in hand through the house, which was -all lighted up for their inspection. "When and how -and whence they came there, I know not. Jock -declares that many are heirlooms, which must have -been hidden away in some time of peril—possibly -at the rising of Monmouth, or at the Revolution; -some perhaps even in the civil war; others, -methinks, my poor father must have won from luckless -gamblers, and have sold to his kinsman, or paid over -to him as interest upon debts. I know not, I -cannot tell; but here they are, and all men tell me they -are mine. They will serve to make a fitting setting -for the priceless jewel which my house doth now -enshrine; and in so doing, they and we must needs find -contentment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It would have been hard, in sooth, not to feel -contentment in such environment. Grey had taken care -not to destroy, but to restore, when the old house -passed into his keeping once more. The old world -charm hung yet upon it; nothing garish or bizarre -was to be found there, as in the houses of fashionable -dames such as Lady Romaine, who loved to jumble -together trophies and curiosities from every part of -the globe in confusion worse confounded. There was -none of this lavish profusion or confusion here; but -each thing looked in its own place, set off by polished -panelling or dusky arras. And even the scent of rose -leaves was the same as in his mother's day; and Grey -whispered to his bride that he liked to think she -could see them now, and share in some sort their -happiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they reached the end of a long gallery, which -brought their wanderings almost to a close, Grey -paused before the door of a certain room, and -instead of turning the handle immediately, he knocked -upon the panels of the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A deep sonorous voice bade him enter; and taking -his wife's hand in his, he led her into a large, low, -airy apartment, which had windows looking both -south and west, where, upon a cleverly-contrived -couch, running very easily upon wheels, lay an old -man with a lion-like face and a mass of snow-white -hair, whose hands were extended in eager yet -restrained and dignified greeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Welcome—thrice welcome—happy bridegroom! -Methought you would not fail to come and visit me -to-night!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I should not fail, good friend; and here -I bring you my wife, whom you have ofttimes -desired to see.—Geraldine, need I tell you that this is -my friend, Mr. Jonathan Wylde, whom last you saw -as Father Time with his scythe and hour-glass? Well, -he has cheated both, you see, albeit he was like to be -mown down once. He will remain as our honoured -guest and friend so long as he is spared to us. For -he did come to my aid when I was very near to -desperation and despair, and we have stood shoulder to -shoulder ever since."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know all the tale," answered Geraldine, and she -knelt down and took the old man's hands in hers, -bending upon him one of her sweetest glances. "It -is a tale that goes to my heart, for it is hard to think -even of sufferings past, where those we love are -concerned. I thank you from my heart for all you did -at that time for my husband. And indeed it was -(under Providence) through you that his bark reached -at the last so fair a haven, and that we are here -together this night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tears which had sprung to the old man's eyes -slowly rolled down his cheeks. His happiness in -seeing again the man he loved with his bride at his side -was almost too much for him. Geraldine saw this, -and pressed his hands gently, rising to her feet at the -same time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay," he answered brokenly; "I was but an -instrument in the hands of Providence—a link of the -chain not made by human hands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, truly, we will think of it like that. It is -God who has brought good out of evil, peace out of -strife, calm out of storm for us all. To Him will we -give the thanks and the praise. And now, good -friend, we must bid you farewell, though only till -the morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took their hands, one in each of his, and looked -at them as one of the old patriarchs might have gazed -upon his beloved ones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God bless and prosper you, my children!" he -said; and they softly answered, "Amen."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT -<br />THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>FALLEN FORTUNES</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45201"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45201</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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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