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diff --git a/old/50273-0.txt b/old/50273-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3830d33..0000000 --- a/old/50273-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10162 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of M. D'Haricot, by J. Storer Clouston - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Adventures of M. D'Haricot - -Author: J. Storer Clouston - -Illustrator: Albert Levering - -Release Date: October 21, 2015 [EBook #50273] -Last Updated: March 15, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF M. D'HARICOT *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE ADVENTURES OF M. D'HARICOT - -By J. Storer Clouston - -Illustrated By Albert Levering - -Harper And Brothers - -New York - -1902 - - -[Illustration: 0001] - - -[Illustration: 0008] - - -[Illustration: 0010] - - - - -THE ADVENTURES OF M. D'HARICOT - - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter I - - “Adieu, the land of my birth! - - Henceforth strange faces!” - ---Boulevarde - - -[Illustration: 9014] - -N my window-sill lies a faded rose, a rose plucked from an English -lane. As I write, my eyes fall upon the gardens, the forests, around -my ancestral chateau, but the faint scent is an English perfume. To the -land of that rose, the land that sheltered, befriended, amused me, I -dedicate these memoirs of my sojourn there. - -They are a record of incidents and impressions that sometimes have -little connection one with another beyond the possession of one -character in common-myself. I am that individual who with unsteady feet -will tread the tight-rope, dance among the eggs, leap through the -paper tambourine--in a word, play clown and hero to the melody of the -castanets. I hold out my hat that you may drop in a sou should -you chance to be amused. To the serious I herewith bid adieu, for -instruction, I fear, will be conspicuously absent, unless, indeed, my -follies serve as a warning. - -And now without further prologue I raise the curtain. - -The first scene is a railway carriage swiftly travelling farther and -farther from the sea that washes the dear shores of France. Look out of -the window and behold the green fields, the heavy hedge-rows enclosing -them so tightly, the trees, not in woods, but scattered everywhere as -by a restless forester, the brick farms, the hop-fields, the moist, -vaporous atmosphere of England. - -Cast your eyes within and you will see, wrapped in an ulster of a -British pattern concealing all that is not British in his appearance, -an exile from his native land. Not to make a mystery of this individual, -you will see, indeed, myself. And I--why did I travel thus enshrouded, -why did my eye look with melancholy upon this fertile landscape, why -did I sit sad and sombre as I travelled through this strange land? There -were many things fresh and novel to stir the mind of an adventurer. The -name, the platform, the look of every station we sped past, was a little -piece of England, curious in its way. Many memories of the people and -the places I had known in fiction should surely have been aroused and -lit my heart with some enthusiasm. What reason, then, for sadness? - -I shall tell you, since the affair is now no secret, and as it hereafter -touches my narrative. I was a Royalist, an adherent of the rightful king -of France. - -[Illustration: 8016] - -I am still; I boast it openly. But at that time a demonstration had been -premature, a government was alarmed, and I had fled. - -Hereafter I shall tell you more of the secret and formidable society -of which I was then a young, enthusiastic member--the Une, Deux, Trois -League, or U. D. T's, as we styled ourselves in brief, the forlorn hope -of royalty in France. At present it is sufficient to say that we had -failed. - -Baffled hopes, doubt as to the future, fear for the present, were my -companions; and they are not gay, these friends. - -I felt--I confess it now mirthfully enough--suspicious of the porter of -the train, of the guard, of the people who eyed me. - -I was young, and “political offender” had a terrible sound. The Bastile, -Siberia, St. Helena; were not these places built, created, discovered, -for the sole purpose of returning white-haired, enfeebled unfortunates -to their native land, only to find their homes dissolved, their families -deceased, themselves forgotten? The truth is that I was already in -mourning for myself. The prospect of entering history by the martyr's -postern had seemed noble in the heat of action and the excitement of -intrigue. Now I only desired my liberty and as little public attention -as possible. I commend this personal experience to all conspirators. - -Such a frame of mind begets suspicions fast, and when I found myself in -the same compartment with a young man who had already glanced at me -in the Gare du Nord, and taken a longer look on board the steamboat, -I felt, I admit, decidedly uncomfortable. From beneath the shade of my -travelling-cap I eyed him for the first half-hour with a deep distrust. -Yet since he regarded me with that total lack of interest an Englishman -bestows upon the unintroduced, and had, besides, an appearance of -honesty written on his countenance, I began to feel somewhat ashamed of -my suspicions, until at last I even came to consider him with interest -as one type of that strange people among whom for a longer or a shorter -time I was doomed to dwell, He differed, it is true, both from the -busts of Shakespeare and the statues of Wellington, yet he was far -from unpleasing. An athletic form, good features, a steady, blue eye, a -complexion rosy as a girl's, fair hair brushed flat across his forehead, -thirty years of truth-telling, cricket-playing, and the practice of -three or four elementary ethical principles, not to mention an excellent -tailor, all went to make this young man a refreshing and an encouraging -spectacle. - -“Bah!” I said to myself. “My friend may not be the poet-laureate or the -philanthropic M. Carnegie, but at least he is no spy.” - -By nature I am neither bashful nor immoderately timid, and it struck me -that some talk with a native might be of service. My spirits, too, were -rising fast. The train had not yet been stopped and searched; we were -nearing the great London, where he who seeks concealment is as one pin -in a trayful; the hour was early in the day, and the sun breaking out -made the wet grass glisten. - -Yes, it was hard to remain silent on that glorious September morning, -even though dark thoughts sat upon the same cushion. - -“Monsieur,” I said, “the sun is bright.” - -With this remark he seemed to show his agreement by a slight smile and -a murmured phrase. The smile was pleasant, and I felt encouraged to -continue. - -“Yet it does not always follow that the heart is gay. Indeed, monsieur, -how often we see tears on a June morning, and hear laughter in March! -It must have struck you often, this want of harmony in the world. Has it -not?” - -I had been so carried away my thoughts that I had failed to observe the -lack of sympathy in my fellow-traveller's countenance. - -“Possibly,” he remarked, dryly. - -“Ah,” I said, with a smile, “you do not appreciate. You are English.” - -[Illustration: 0019] - -“I am,” he replied. “And you are French, I suppose?” - -At his words, suspicion woke in my heart. It was only as a Frenchman -that I ran the risk of arrest. - -“No; I am an American.” - -This was my first attempt to disclaim my nationality, and each time I -denied my country I, like St. Peter, suffered for it. Fair France, your -lovers should be true! That is the lesson. - -“Indeed,” was all he said; but I now began to enjoy my first experience -of that disconcerting phenomenon, the English stare. Later on I -discovered that this generally means nothing, and is, in fact, merely -an inherited relic of the days when each Englishman carried his -“knuckle-duster” (a weapon used in boxing), and struck the instant his -neighbor's attention was diverted. It is thanks to this peculiarity -that they now find themselves in possession of so large a portion of the -globe, but the surviving stare is not a reassuring spectacle. - -Yet I must not let him see that I was in the slightest inconvenienced by -his attitude. The antidote to suspicion is candor. I was candid. - -“Yes,” I said. “I am told that I do not resemble an American, but my -name, at least, is good Anglo-Saxon.” - -And I handed him a card prepared for such an emergency. On it I had -written, “Nelson Bunyan, Esq.” If that sounded French, then I had -studied philology in vain. - -“I am a traveller in search of curios,” I added. “And you?” - -“I am not,” he replied, with a trace of a smile and a humorous look in -his blue eyes. - -He was quite friendly, perfectly polite, but that was all the -information about himself I could extract--“I am not,” followed by -a commonplace concerning the weather. A singular type! Repressed, -self-restrained, reticent, good-humoredly condescending--in a word, -British. - -We talked of various matters, and I did my best to pick him, like his -native winkle, from the shell. Of my success here is a sample. We had -(or I had) been talking of the things that were best worth a young man's -study. - -“And there is love,” I said. “What a field for inquiry, what variety of -aspects, what practical lessons to be learned!” - -He smiled at my ardor. - -“Have you ever been in love?” I asked. - -“Possibly,” he replied, carelessly. - -“But devotedly, hopelessly, as a man who would sacrifice heaven for his -mistress?” - -“Haven't blown my brains out yet,” he answered. - -“Ah, you have been successful; you have invariably brought your little -affairs to a fortunate issue?” - -“I don't know that I should call myself a great ladies' man.” - -“Possibly you are engaged?” I suggested, remembering that I had heard -that this operation has a singularly sedative effect upon the English. - -“No,” he said, with an air of ending the discussion, “I am not.” - -Again this “I am not,” followed by a compression of the lips and a cold -glance into vacancy. - -“Ah, he is a dolt; a lump of lead!” I said to myself, and I sighed to -think of the people I was leaving, the people of spirit, the people of -wit. Little did I think how my opinion of my fellow-traveller would one -day alter, how my heart would expand. - -But now I had something else to catch my attention. I looked out of the -window, and, behold, there was nothing to be seen but houses. Below the -level of the railway line was spread a sea of dingy brick dwellings, -all, save here and there a church-tower, of one uniform height and of -one uniform ugliness. Against the houses nearest to the railway were -plastered or propped, by way of decoration, vast colored testimonials -to the soaps and meat extracts of the country. In lines through this -prosaic landscape rose telegraph posts and signals, and trains bustled -in every direction. - -“Pardon me,” I said to my companion, “but I am new to this country. What -city is this?” - -“London,” said he. - -London, the far-famed! So this was London. Much need to “paint it red,” - as the English say of a frolic. - -“Is it all like this?” I asked. - -“Not quite,” he replied, in his good-humored tone. - -“Thank God!” I exclaimed, devoutly. “I do not like to speak -disrespectfully of any British institution, but this--my faith!” - -We crossed the Thames, gray and gleaming in the sunshine, and now I -am at Charing Cross. Just as the train was slowing down I turned to my -fellow-traveller. - -“Have you been vaccinated?” I asked. - -“I have,” said he, in surprise. - -You see even reticence has its limits. - -“I thank you for the confidence,” I replied, gravely. - -As he stood up to take his umbrella from the rack he handed me back my -card. - -“I say,” he abruptly remarked, in a tone, I thought, of mingled severity -and innuendo, “I should have this legend altered, if I were you. -Good-morning.” - -And with that he was gone, and my doubts had returned. He suspected -something! Well, there was nothing to be done but maintain a stout heart -and trust to fortune. And it takes much to drive gayety from my spirits -for long. I was a fugitive, a stranger, a foreigner, but I hummed a tune -cheerfully as I waited my turn for the ordeal of the custom-house. And -here came one good omen. My appearance was so deceptively respectable, -and my air so easy, that not a question was asked me. One brief glance -at my dress-shirts and I was free to drive into the streets and lose -myself in the life of London. - -Lose myself, do I say? Yes, indeed, and more than myself, too. My -friends, my interests, my language, my home; all these were lost as -utterly as though I had dropped them overboard In the Channel. I had not -time to obtain even one single introduction before I left, or further -counsel than I remembered from reading English books. And I assure you -it is not so easy to benefit by the experiences of Mr. Pickwick and Miss -Sharp as it may seem. Stories may be true to life, but, alas! life is -not so true to stories. - -Fortunately, I could talk and read English well--even, I may say, -fluently; also I had the spirit of my race; and finally--and, perhaps, -most fortunately--I was not too old to learn. - - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter II - -“_In that city, sire, even the manner of breathing was different._” - ---PIZARRO. - -[Illustration: 9025] - -WAS in London, the vastest collection of people and of houses this world -has ever seen; the ganglion, the museum, the axle of the English race; -the cradle of much of their genius and most of their fogs; the home -of Dr. Johnson, the bishops of Canterbury, the immortal Falstaff, the -effigied Fawkes; also the headquarters of all the profitable virtues, -all the principles of business. With an abandon and receptivity which -I am pleased to think the Creator has reserved as a consolation for the -non-English, I had hardly been half an hour in the city before I had -become infected with something of its spirit. - -“Goddam! What ho!” I said to myself, in the English idiom. “For months, -for years, forever, perhaps, I am to live among this incomprehensible -people. Well, I shall strive to learn something, and, by Great Scotland! -to enjoy something.” So I turned up my trousers and sallied out of my -hotel. - -Ah, this was life, indeed, I had come into; not more so than Paris, -but differently so. Stolidly, good-naturedly, and rapidly the citizens -struggle along through the crowds on the pavement. They seem like -helpless straws revolving in a whirlpool. Yet does one of them wish to -cross the street? Instantly a constable raises a finger, the traffic of -London is stopped, and Mr. Benjamin Bull, youngest and least important -son of John, passes uninjured to the farther side. - -“What is this street?” I ask one of these officers, as he stands in the -midst of a crossing, signalling which cab or dray shall pass him. - -“Strand,” says he, stopping five omnibuses to give me this information. - -“Where does it lead me?” - -“Which way do you wish to proceed?” he inquires, politely, still -detaining the omnibuses. - -“East,” I reply, at a venture. - -“First to the right, second to the left, third to the right again, and -take the blue bus as far as the Elephant and Angel,” he answers, without -any hesitation. - -“A thousand thanks,” I gasp. “I think, on the whole, I should be safer -to go westward.” - -He waves his hand, the omnibuses (which by this time have accumulated to -the number of fourteen) proceed upon their journey, and I, had I the -key to the cipher, should doubtless be in possession of valuable -information. Such is one instance of the way in which the Londoner's -substitute for Providence does its business. - -I shall not attempt to give at this point an exhaustive description -of London. The mandates of fortune sent me at different times to enjoy -amusing and embarrassing experiences in various quarters of the city, -and these I shall touch upon in their places. It is sufficient to -observe at present that London is a name for many cities. - -A great town, like a great man, is made up of various characters strung -together. Just as the soldier becomes at night the lover and next -morning the philosopher, so a city is on the east a factory, on the -west a palace, on the north a lodging-house. So it is with Paris, with -Berlin, with all. But London is so large, so devoid of system in its -creation and in its improvements, so variously populated, that it -probably exceeds any in its variety. - -No emperor or council of city fathers mapped the streets or regulated -the houses. What edifice each man wanted that he built, guided only -by the length of his purse and the depth of his barbarism; while the -streets on which this arose is either the same roadway as once served -the Romans, or else the speculative builder's idea of best advancing the -interests of his property. Then some day comes a great company who wish -to occupy a hundred metres of frontage and direct attention to their -business. So many houses are pulled down and replaced by an erection -twice the height of anything else, and designed, as far as possible, to -imitate the cries and costume of a bookmaker. And all this time there -are surviving, in nooks and corners, picturesque and venerable buildings -of a by-gone age, and also, of late, are arising on all sides worthy and -dignified new piles. - -So that the history of each house and each street, the mental condition -of their architects and the financial condition of their occupants, -are written upon them plainly with a smoky finger. For you see all -this through an atmosphere whose millions of molecules of carbon and of -aqueous vapor darken the bricks and the stones, and hang like a veil of -fine gauze before them. London is huge, but the eternal mistiness makes -it seem huger still, for however high a building you climb, you can see -nothing but houses and yet more houses, melting at what looks a vast -distance into the blue-and-yellow haze. Really, there may be green woods -and the fair slopes of a country-side within a few miles, but since you -cannot see them your heart sinks, and you believe that such good things -must be many leagues below the brick horizon. More than once upon a -Sunday morning, when the air was clear, I have been startled to see -from the Strand itself a glimpse of the Surrey hills quite near and very -beautiful, and I have said, “Thank God for this!” - -[Illustration: 0029] - -It was in the morning that I arrived in London, and my first day I spent -in losing my way through the labyrinth of streets, which are set never -at a right angle to one another, and are of such different lengths that -I could scarcely persuade myself it had not all been specially arranged -to mislead me. - -About one o'clock I entered a restaurant and ordered a genuine English -steak--the porter-house, it was called. In quality, I admit this segment -of an ox was admirable; but as for its quantity--my faith! I ate it till -half-past two and scarcely had made an impression then. Half stupefied -with this orgy, and the British beer I had taken to assist me in the -protracted effort, I returned to my hotel, and there began the journal -on which these memoirs are founded. As showing my sensations at the -time, they are now of curious interest to me. I shall give the extract I -wrote then: - -“_Amusing, absorbing, entertaining as a Chinese puzzle where all the -pieces are alive; all these things is the city of London. Why, then, has -it already begun to pall upon me? Ah, it is the loneliness of a crowd! -In Paris I can walk by the hour and never see a face I know, and yet not -feel this sense of desolation. Friends need not be before the eye, but -they must be at hand when you wish to call them. For myself, I call them -pretty frequently, yet often can remain for a time content to merely -know that they are somewhere not too far away. But here--I may turn -north, south, east, or west, and walk as far as I like in any direction, -and not one should I find!_ - -“_Shall I ever make a friend among this old, phlegmatic, business-like -people? Some day perhaps, an acquaintance may be struck with some such -reticent and frigid monster as my fair-haired companion of the -journey. Would such a one console or cheer or share a single sentiment? -Impossible! Mon Dieu! I shall leave this town in three days; I swear it. -And where then? The devil knows!_” - -At this point the writing of these notes was unexpectedly interrupted, -only to be resumed, as it chanced, after some adventurous days. - -A waiter entered, bearing a letter for me. I sprang up and seized -it eagerly. It was addressed to Mr. Nelson Bunyan, Esq., and marked -“Immediate and confidential.” These words were written in English and -execrably misspelled. - -It could come from but one source, for who else knew my _nom de plume_, -who else would write “Immediate and confidential,” and, I grieve to say -it, who else would take their precautions in such a way as instantly to -raise suspicions? Had the secretary of the “Une, Deux, Trois” no -English dictionary, that he need make the very waiter stare at this very -extraordinary address? I did my best to pass it off lightly. - -“From a lady,” I said to the man. “One not very well educated, perhaps; -but is education all we seek in women?” - -“No, sir,” said he, replying to my glance with insufferable familiarity, -“not all by no means.” - -Alas that the fugitive cannot afford to take offence! - -I opened the letter, and, as I expected, it was headed by the letters U. -D. T: - -“_Go at once to the house of Mr. Frederick Hankey, No. 114 or 115 George -Road, Streatham. Knock thrice on the third window, and when he comes say -distinctly 'For the King.' He will give directions for your safety._” - -This missive was only signed F. II, but, of course, I knew the -writer--our most indefatigable, our most enthusiastic, the secretary -himself. - -Well, here was something to be done; a friend, perhaps, to be made; a -spice of interest suddenly thrown into this city of strangers. After my -fashion, my spirits rose as quickly as they had fallen. I whistled an -air, and began to think this somewhat dreary hotel not a bad place, -after all. I should only wait till darkness fell and then set out to -interview Mr. Frederick Hankey. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter III - - -“_What door will fit this key?_” - ---Castillo Soprani. - - -[Illustration: 9033] - -S I ate my solitary dinner before starting upon my expedition to Mr. -Hankey's house, I began to think less enthusiastically of the adventure. -Here was I; comfortable in my hotel, though, I admit, rather lonely; -safe, so far, and apparently suspected by none to be other than the -blameless Bunyan. Besides, now that I could find a friend for the -seeking, my loneliness suddenly diminished. Also I was buoyed by the -thought that I was a real adventurer, a romantic exile, as much so, in -fact, as Prince Charles of Scotland or my own beloved king. Now I was to -knock upon the window of a house that might be either number 114 or 115, -and give myself blindfold to strangers. - -Yet on second thoughts I reflected that I knew nothing of English laws -or English ways. Was I not in “perfidious Albion,” and might I not be -handed over to the French government in defiance of all treaties, in -order to promote the insidious policy of Chamberlain? Yes, I should go, -after all, and I drank to the success of my adventure in a bottle of -wine that sent me forth to the station in as gay a spirit as any gallant -could wish. - -[Illustration: 0034] - -I had made cautious inquiries, asking of different servants at the -hotel, and I had little difficulty in making my way by train as far -as the suburb in which Mr. Hankey lived. There I encountered the first -disquieting circumstance. Inquiring of a policeman, I found there was -no such place as George Road, but a St. George's Road was well known to -him. If F. II had been so inaccurate in one statement, might he not be -equally so in another? - -I may mention here that the name of this road is my own invention. The -mistake was a similar one to that I have narrated. In all cases I -have altered the names of my friends and their houses, as these events -happened so recently that annoyance might be caused, for the English -are a reticent nation, and shrink from publicity as M. Zola did from -oblivion. - -Up an immensely long and very dark road I went, studying the numbers of -the houses on either side, and here at once a fresh difficulty presented -itself. In an English suburb it is the custom to conceal the number -provided by the municipal authorities, and decorate the gates instead -with a fanciful or high-sounding title. Thus I passed “Blenheim Lodge,” - “Strathcory,” “Rhododendron Grove,” and many other such residences, but -only here and there could I find a number to guide me. By counting -from 84, I came at last upon two houses standing with their gates close -together that must either be 114 and 115, or 115 and 116. I could not be -sure which, nor in either case did I know whether the one or the other -sheltered the conspiring Hankey. The gate on the left was labelled -“Chickawungaree Villa,” that on the right “Mount Olympus House.” In the -house I could see through the trees that all was darkness, and the gate -was so shabby as to suggest that no one lived there. In the villa, on -the contrary, I saw two or three lighted windows. I determined to try -the villa. - -The drive wound so as to encircle what appeared in the darkness to be a -tennis-court and an arbor, and finally emerged through a clump of trees -before a considerable mansion. And here I was confronted by another -difficulty. My directions said, knock upon the third window. But there -were three on either side of the front door, and then how did I know -that Hankey might not prefer me to knock upon his back or his -side windows? My friend F. II might be a martyr and a patriot; but -business-like? No. - -“Blind fortune is the goddess to-night,” I said to myself, and with that -I tapped gently upon the third window from the door counting towards the -right. I have often since consoled myself by thinking that I should have -exhibited no greater intuition had I counted towards the left. - -I tap three times. No answer. Again three times. Still no answer. It was -diabolically dark, and the trees made rustling noises very disconcerting -to the nerves of one unaccustomed to practise these preliminaries before -calling upon a friend. - -“The devil!” I say to myself. “This time I shall make Mr. Hankey hear -me.” - -And so I knocked very sharply and loudly, so sharply that I cracked the -pane. - -“Unfortunate,” I thought; “but why should I not convert Hankey's -misfortune into my advantage?” - -With the intention of perhaps obtaining a glimpse into the room, I -pushed the pane till, with an alarming crash, a considerable portion -fell upon the gravel. - -[Illustration: 9037] - -With a start I turned, and there, approaching me from either side, were -two men. Hankey had evidently heard me at last. - -“Who are you?” said one of them, a stout gentleman, I could see, with -a consequential voice. I came a step towards him. “For the King,” I -replied. - -He seemed to be staring at me. - -“What the devil--?” he exclaimed, in surprise. - -My heart began to sink. - -“You are Mr. Hankey?” I inquired. - -“I am not,” he replied, with emphasis. - -Here was a delicate predicament! - -But I was not yet at the end of my resources. - -“May I inquire your name?” I asked, politely. - -“My name is Fisher,” he said, with a greater air of consequence than -ever, but no greater friendliness. - -“What, Fisher himself!” I exclaimed, with pretended delight. “This is -indeed a fortunate coincidence! How are you, Fisher?” - -Still no answer. - -I held out my hand, but this monster of British brutality paid no -attention to my overture. - -“Who are you?” he asked once more. - -Not having yet made up my mind who I was, I thought it better to -temporize. - -“My explanations will take a few minutes, I am afraid,” I answered. “The -hour also is late. May I call upon you in the morning?” - -“I think you had better step in and explain now,” said Fisher, curtly. - -They were two to one, and very close to me, while I was hampered with -my British ulster. I must trust to my wits to get me safely out of this -house again. - -“I shall be charmed, if I am not disturbing you.” - -“You are disturbing me,” said the inexorable Fisher. “In fact, you have -been causing a considerable disturbance, and I should like to know the -reason.” - -Under these cheerful circumstances I entered Chickawungaree Villa, -Fisher preceding me, and the other man, whom I now saw to be his butler, -walking uncomfortably close behind. - -“Step in here,” said Fisher. He showed me into what was evidently his -dining-room, and then, after saying a few words in an undertone to his -servant, he closed the door, drew forward a chair so as to cut off my -possible line of flight, sat upon it, and breathed heavily towards me. - -Figure to yourself my situation. A large, red-faced, gray-whiskered -individual, in a black morning-coat and red slippers, staring stolidly -at me from a meat-eating eye; name Fisher, but all other facts -concerning him unknown. - -[Illustration: 0039] - -A stiff, uninhabited-looking apartment of considerable size, lit with -the electric light, upholstered in light wood and new red leather, and -ornamented by a life-sized portrait of Fisher himself, this picture being -as uncompromising and apoplectic as the original. Finally, standing in -an artificially easy attitude before a fireplace containing a frilled -arrangement of pink paper, picture an exceedingly uncomfortable -Frenchman. - -“You scarcely expected me?” I begin, with a smile. - -“I did not,” says Fisher. - -“I did not expect to see you,” I continue; but to this he makes no -reply. - -“I was looking for the house of Mr. Hankey.” - -“Were you?” says Fisher. - -“Do you know him?” I ask. - -“No,” says Fisher. - -A pause. The campaign has opened badly; no doubt of that. I must try -another move. - -“You will wonder how I knew him,” I say, pleasant. - -Fisher only breathes more heavily. - -“Our mutual friend, Smith,” I begin, watching closely to see if his mind -responds to this name. I know that Smith is common in England, and think -he will surely know some one so called. “Smith mentioned you.” - -But no, there is no gleam of recognition. - -“Indeed,” is all he remarks, very calmly. - -There is no help for it, I must go on. - -“I intended to call upon you some day this week. I have heard you highly -spoken of--'The great Fisher,' 'The famous Fisher.' Indeed, sir, I -assure you, your name is a household word in Scotland.” - -I choose Scotland because I know its accent is different from English. -My own also is different. Therefore I shall be Scotch. Unhappy -selection! - -“Do you mean to pretend you are Scotch?” says Fisher, frowning as well -as breathing at me. - -I must withdraw one foot. - -“Half Scotch, half Italian,” I reply. - -Ah, France, why did I deny you? I was afraid to own you, I blush to -confess it. And I was righteously punished. - -“Italian?” says he, with more interest. “Ah, indeed!” - -[Illustration: 9041] - -He stares more intently, frowns more portentously, and respires more -loudly than ever. - -“A charming country,” I say. - -“No doubt,” says Fisher. - -At this moment the door opens behind him and a lady appears. She has a -puffy cheek, a pale eye, a comfortable figure, a curled fringe of gray -hair, and slightly projecting teeth; in a word, the mate of Fisher. -There can be no mistake, and I am quick to seize the chance. - -“My dear Mrs. Fisher!” I exclaim, advancing towards her. - -With a movement like a hippopotamus wallowing, Fisher places himself -between us. Does he think I have come to elope with her? - -I assume the indignant rôle. - -“Mr. Fisher!” I cry, much hurt at this want of confidence. - -“Who is this gentleman?” asks Mrs. Fisher, looking at me, I think, with -a not altogether disapproving glance. - -“Ask him,” says Fisher. - -“Madame,” I say, with a bow, “I am an unfortunate stranger, come to -pay my respects to Mr. Fisher and his beautiful lady. I wish you could -explain my reception.” - -“What is your name?” says Mrs. Fisher, with comparative graciousness, -considering that she is a bourgeois Englishwoman taken by surprise, and -fearing both to be cold to a possible man of position and to be friendly -with a possible nobody. - -A name I must have, and I must also invent it at once, and it must be -something both Scotch and Italian. I take the first two that come into -my head. - -“Dugald Cellarini,” I reply. - -They look at one another dubiously. I must put them at their ease at any -cost. - -“A fine picture,” I say, indicating the portrait of my host, “and an -excellent likeness. Do you not think so, Mrs. Fisher?” - -She looks at me as if she had a new thought. - -“Are you a friend of the artist?” she asks. - -“An intimate,” I reply with alacrity. - -“We have informed Mr. Benzine that we specially desired him not to bring -any more of his Bohemian acquaintances to our house,” says the amiable -lady. - -I am plunging deeper into the morass! Still, I have at last accounted -for my presence. - -“Mr. Benzine did not warn me of this, madame,” I reply, coldly. “I -apologize and I withdraw.” - -I make a step towards the door, but the large form of Fisher still -intervenes. - -“Then Benzine sent you?” he says. - -“He did, though evidently under a misapprehension.” - -“And what about Smith?” asks Fisher, with an approach to intelligence in -his bovine eye. - -“Well, what about him?” I ask, defiantly. - -“Did he send you, too?” - -“My reception has been such that I decline to give any further -explanations.” - -“That is all very well,” says Fisher--“that is all very well--” - -He is evidently cogitating what is all very well, when we hear heavy -steps in the passage. - -“They have come at last!” he exclaims, and opens the door. - -“More visitors!” I say to myself, hoping now for a diversion. In another -moment I get it. Enter the butler and two gigantic policemen. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter IV - - -“'_Let me out,' said the mouse, 'I do not care for this cheese._'” - ---Fables of Laetertius. - - -[Illustration: 9044] - -ICTURE now this comedy and its actors. Fisher of the porpoise habit, -Mrs. Fisher of the puffy cheek, poor Dugald Cellarini, and these two -vast, blue-coated, thief-catching “bobbies” (as with kindly humor the -English term their police); all save Dugald looking terribly solemn and -important. He, poor man, strove hard to give the affair a lighter turn, -but what is one artist in a herd of Philistines? I was not appreciated; -that is the truth. A man may defy an empire, a papal bull, an infectious -disease, but a prejudice--never! “Constable,” says Fisher, “I have -caught him.” Both bobbies look at me with much the same depressing -glance as Fisher himself. - -“Yes, sir,” says one, in what evidently was intended for a tone of -congratulation. “So I see.” - -The other bobby evidently agrees with this sentiment. Wonderful -unanimity! I have noticed it in the Paris gendarmes also, the same quick -and intelligent grasp of a situation. - -The latter quality was so conspicuous in my two blue-coated friends that -I named them instantly Lecoq and Holmes. - -Holmes speaks next, after an impressive pause. - -“What's he done?” - -“That is the point,” says Fisher, in a tone of such damaging insinuation -that I am spurred to my defence. - -“Exactly--what have I done?” - -“He has endeavored to effect an entry into my house by removing a pane -of glass,” says Fisher. - -“Pardon me; to call the attention of the servants by rapping upon a pane -of glass.” - -“Come now, none of that!” says Lecoq, with such severity that I see the -situation at once. He is jealous. I have cast an imputation on some fair -housemaid--the future Mrs. Lecoq, no doubt. - -“An assignation, you think?” I ask, with a reassuring smile. - -“Sir!” cries Mrs. Fisher, indignantly. “It was my daughter's window you -broke!” - -Shall I pose as the lover of Miss Fisher? I have heard that unmarried -English girls take strange liberties. - -“Your fair daughter--” I begin. - -“Is a child of fifteen,” interrupts virtuous Mrs. - -Fisher, “and I am certain knows nothing of this person.” - -By the expression of their intelligent countenances, Holmes and Lecoq -show their concurrence in this opinion. - -“Confront her with me!” I demand, folding my arms defiantly. - -It has since struck me that this was a happy inspiration, and in the -right dramatic key. Unfortunately, it requires an imaginative audience, -and I had two Fishers and two bobbies. - -Rapidly I had calculated what would happen. The fair and innocent maiden -should be aroused from her virgin slumbers; with dishevelled locks, and -in a long, loose, and becoming drapery of some soft color (light blue -to harmonize with her flaxen hair, for instance), she should be led into -this chamber of the inquisition; then my eye should moisten, my voice be -as the lute of Apollo, and it would be a thousand francs to a dishonored -check that I should melt her into some soft confession. Not that I -should ask her to compromise her reputation to save me. Never, on my -honor, would I permit that. Indeed, if my plight tempted her to invent -a story she might repent of afterwards, I should disavow it with so -sincere and honest an air that my captors would exclaim together, “We -have misjudged him!” - -No, I should merely persuade her to confess that a not ill-looking -foreigner had pursued her with glances of chivalrous admiration for -some days past, and that from his air of hopeless passion it was not -surprising to find him to-night tapping upon her window-pane. - -Alas, that so promising a scheme should fail through the incurable -poverty of the Fisher spirit! My demand is simply ignored. - -“What acquaintance have you with my daughter?” asks Mrs. Fisher, icily. - -“You will respect my confidence?” I ask, earnestly. - -“We shall use our discretion,” replies the virtuous lady. - -“Quite so; we shall use our discretion,” repeats her unspeakable -husband. - -“I am satisfied with your assurance,” I say. “The discretion of a Fisher -is equivalent to the seal of the confessional. I thank you from my -heart, and I bow to your judgment.” - -“What do you know of my daughter?” Mrs. Fisher repeats, quite unmoved by -my candor. - -“Madame, I was about to tell you. You asked if I was acquainted with -that charming, and, I can assure you on my honor, spotless young lady?” - -“I did,” says Mrs. Fisher; “but I do not require any remarks on her -character from you, sir.” - -“Pardon me; they escaped me inadvertently What I feel deeply I am -tempted to say. I do not know Miss Fisher personally. I have not yet -ventured to address a word to her, not so much as a syllable, not even -a whisper. My respect for her innocence, for her youth, for her parents, -has been too great. But this I confess: I have for days, for weeks, for -months, followed her loved figure with the eye of chaste devotion! -On her walks abroad I have been her silent, frequently her unseen, -attendant. Through every street in London I have followed the divine -Miss Fisher, as a sailor the polar star! To-night, in a moment of -madness, I approached her home; I touched her window that I might -afterwards kiss the hand that had come so near her! In my passion I -touched too hard, the pane broke, and here I stand before you!” - -So completely had I been carried away on the wings of my own fancy that -once or twice in the course of this outburst I had committed myself -to more than I had any intention of avowing. Be emphatic but never -definite, is my counsel to the liar. But I had, unluckily, tied myself -to my inventions. The gestures, the intonation, the key of sentiment -were beyond criticism; but then I was addressing Mr. and Mrs. Fisher, of -Chickawungaree Villa. - -They glance at one another, and Lecoq glances at them. - -He, honest man, merely touches his head significantly and winks in my -direction. The Fishers are not, however, content with this charitable -criticism. - -“My daughter only returned from her seminary in Switzerland four days -ago,” says Mrs. Fisher. - -“And she has never visited the streets of London except in Mrs. Fisher's -company,” adds her spouse, with a look of what is either dull hatred or -impending apoplexy. - -Even at that crisis my wits did not desert me. - -“My faith!” I cry, “I must be mistaken! It is not, then, Miss Fisher -whom I worship! A thousand pardons, sir, and I beg of you to convey them -to the lady whom I disturbed under a misapprehension!” - -At this there is a pause, nobody volunteering to run with this message -to the bedside of Miss Fisher, though I glance pointedly at Holmes, -and even make the money in my pocket jingle. At last comes a sound -of stifled air trying to force a passage through something dense. -It proceeds, I notice, from my friend Fisher. Then it becomes a more -articulate though scarcely less disagreeable noise. - -“I do not believe a word you say, sir!” he booms. - -“My friend, you are an agnostic,” I reply, with a smile. - -Fisher only breathes with more apparent difficulty than ever. He is -evidently going to deal a heavy blow this time. It falls. - -“I charge this person with being concerned in the burglary at Mrs. -Thompson's house last night, and with trying to burgle mine,” says he. - -He pauses, and then delivers another: - -“He has confessed to being an Italian.” - -The constables prick up their ears. - -“The organ-grinder!” exclaims Holmes, with more excitement than I had -thought him capable of. - -“The man as made the butler drunk and gagged the cook!” cries Lecoq. - -Here is a fine situation for a political fugitive! I am indignant. I am -pathetic. 'No use. I explain frankly that I came to see Mr. Hankey. That -only deepens suspicion, for it seems that the excellent Hankey inhabited -Mount Olympus House next door for only three weeks, and departed a month -ago without either paying his rent or explaining the odor of dead bodies -proceeding from his cellars. Doubtless my French friends had acted for -the best in sending me to him, but would that he had taken the trouble -to inform them of his change of address! And then, why had I ever -thought of being an Italian? It appeared now that a gentleman of that -nationality, having won the confidence of the Thompson children and the -Thompson servants by his skill upon the hand-organ, had basely misused -it in the fashion indicated by Lecoq. Certainly it was hard to see why -such a skilled artist should have returned the very next night to a -house three doors away, and then bungled his business so shamefully; -but that argument is beyond the imagination of my bobbies. In fact, they -seem only too pleased to find a thief so ready to meet them half-way. - -“Thank you, sir,” says Holmes, at the conclusion of the painful scene. -“We shouldn't mind a drop.” - -This means that they are about to be rewarded for their share in the -capture by a glass of Fisher's ale. And I? Well, I am not to have any -ale, but I am to accompany them to the cells, and next morning make my -appearance before the magistrate on one charge of burglary and another -of attempted burglary. - -I cannot resist one parting shot at my late host. - -“Yes, Fisher,” I remark, critically, showing no hurry to leave the -room, “I like that portrait of you. It has all your plain, well-fed, -plum-pudding appearance, without your unpleasant manner of breathing and -your ridiculous conversation--and it is not married to Mrs. Fisher.” - -To this there is no reply. Indeed, I do not think they recovered their -senses for at least ten minutes after I left the room. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter V - - -“_The comedy of the law is probably the chief diversion of the angels._” - ---La Rabide. - - -[Illustration: 9052] - -VER the rest of that night I shall draw a veil. I was taken to Newgate, -immured in the condemned cell, and left to my reflections. They were -sombre enough, I assure you. Young, ambitious, ardent, I sat there in -that foreign prison, without a friend, without a hope. If I state the -truth about myself, this excuse will be seized for sending me back to -France. And what then? Another prison! If I keep my identity concealed, -how shall I prove that I am not the burgling musician? - -As you can well imagine, I slept little and dreamed much. I was only -thankful I had no parents to mourn my loss, for by this time I had quite -made up my mind that the organ-grinder's antecedents would certainly -hang me. - -I cursed Fisher, I cursed the League, I cursed F. II, that indefatigable -conspirator who had dragged me from a comfortable hotel and a safe alias -to--what? The scaffold; ah, yes, the scaffold! - -It may sound amusing now, when I am still unhanged; but it was far from -amusing then, I assure you. - -Well, the morning broke at last, and I was led, strongly escorted by the -twins Lecoq and Holmes, towards the venerable law-court at Westminster. -I recognized the judge, the jury, the witnesses, and the counsel, though -my thoughts were too engrossed to take a careful note of these. In fact, -in writing this account I am to some extent dependent on reports of -other trials. They are all much the same, I understand, differing -chiefly as one or more judges sit upon the bench. - -In this case there was only one, a little gentleman with a shrewd eye -and a dry voice--a typical hanging judge, I said to myself. I prepared -for the worst. - -First comes the formal accusation. I, giving the name of Dugald -Cellarini am a blood-thirsty burglar. Such, in brief, is the charge, -although its deadly significance is partly obscured by the discreet -phraseology of the law. - -Then my friend Holmes enters the box, stiff and evidently nervous, -and in a halting voice and incoherent manner (which in France would -inevitably have led to his being placed in the dock himself) he -describes the clever way I was caught by himself and the astute Lecoq. -So misleading is his account of my guilty demeanor and suspicious -conduct, that I instantly resolve to cross-examine him. Politely but -firmly I request the judge's permission. It is granted, and I can see -there is a stir of excitement in the court. - -“Did I struggle with you?” I ask. - -Holmes, turning redder than ever, admits that I did not. - -“Did I knock you down? Did I seek to escape?” - -No, Holmes was not knocked down, nor had I tried to escape from the -representatives of the law. - -“And why, if I was a burglar, did I not do these things?” - -“You wasn't big enough,” says Holmes. - -Well, I admit he had the advantage of me there. The court, prejudiced -against me as they were, laughed with Holmes, but at the next bout I -returned his lunge with interest. - -“What did Fisher give you to drink?” I ask. - -The question is dismissed by my vindictive judge as irrelevant, but I -have thrown Holmes into great confusion and made the court smile with -me. - -“That is all,” I say, in the tone of a conqueror, and thereupon Lecoq -takes the place of Holmes, and in precisely the same manner, and with -the same criminal look of abasement, repeats almost exactly the same -words. - -Against him I design a different line of counterattack. I remember -his jealousy when I spoke of the servants, and, if possible, I shall -discredit his testimony by an assault upon his character. Assuming an -encouraging air, I ask: - -“You know the servants at Fisher's house?” - -He stammers, “Yes.” - -“With one in particular you are well acquainted?” - -He looks at the judge for protection, but so little is my line of attack -suspected that the judge only gazes at us in rapt attention. - -“I do,” says Lecoq, after a horribly incriminating pause. - -“Now tell me this,” I demand, sternly. “Have you always behaved towards -her as an honorable policeman?” - -Would you believe it? This question also is disallowed! But I think I -have damaged Lecoq all the same. - -Next comes Fisher, red-faced, more pompous than ever, and inspired, I -can see, with vindictive hatred towards myself. It appears that he is -a London merchant; that his daughter heard a tapping on her window -and called her father; that he and his servant caught me in the act of -entering the chaste bedchamber through a broken window. - -At this point I ask if I may put a question. The judge says yes. - -“How much glass fell out?” I ask. - -“Half a pane,” says he. - -“And the rest stayed in?” - -He has to admit that it did; very ungraciously, however. - -“How many panes to the window?” - -He cannot answer this; but the judge, much to my surprise, comes to the -rescue and elicits the fact that there are six. - -“How far had I gone through a twelfth of your window?” I ask. - -His face gets redder, and there is a laugh through the court. I feel -that I have “scored a try,” as they say, and my spirits begin to rise -again. - -But, alas! they are soon damped. Mrs. Thompson's butler steps into -the witness-box, and a more shameless liar I have never heard. Yes, -he remembers an organ-grinder coming to the house on various occasions -during the past fortnight. Here I interpose. - -“What did he play?” I ask. - -“Not being interested in such kinds of music, I cannot say.” - -“Possibly you have a poor ear?” I suggest. - -“My ear is as right as some people's, but it has not been accustomed -to the hand-organ,” says the butler, with a magnificence that seems to -impress even the judge. - -“You should have it boxed, my friend,” I cannot help retorting, though I -fear this does not meet the unqualified approval of the judge. - -Next he is asked for an account of his dealings with the musician when -that gentleman visited the kitchen upon the night of the burglary, -and it appears that, shortly after the grinder's departure, he lost -consciousness with a completeness and rapidity that can only have been -caused by some insidious drug surreptitiously introduced into the -glass of beer he happened to be finishing at that moment. He scorns -the insinuation (made by myself) that he and the musician were drinking -together; he would not so far demean himself. That outcast did, however, -on one occasion, approach suspiciously near his half-empty glass. - -“Well,” I remark, with a smile, “the moral Is that next time you should -provide your guests with glasses of their own.” - -Again I score, but quickly he has his revenge. Does he recognize me as -the organ-grinder? he is asked. He is not sure of the face, not taking -particular notice of persons of that description, but--he is ready to -swear to my voice! - -It seems, then, that I have the same accent as an Italian organ-grinder! -I bow ironically, but the sarcasm, I fear, is lost. - -“What is so distinctive about this voice I share with your Italian boon -companion?” I inquire, suavely. - -He evidently dislikes the innuendo, but, in the presence of so many of -his betters, decides to retaliate only by counter-sarcasm. “It's what I -call an unedicated voice,” says he. - -“Uneducated Italian or uneducated English?” I inquire. - -“Italian,” he replies, with the most consummate assurance. - -“You know Italian?” - -“Having travelled in Italy, I am not altogether unfamiliar,” he answers. - -I then put to him a simple Italian sentence. - -“What does that mean, and is it educated or uneducated?” I ask. - -“It means something that I should not care for his lordship to hear, and -is the remark of a thoroughly uneducated person,” he retorts. - -The court roars, and some even cheer the witness. For myself, I am -compelled to join the laughter--the impudence is so colossal. - -“My lord,” I say to the judge, “this distinguished scholar has so -delicate a mind that I should only scandalize him by asking further -questions.” - -So the butler retires with such an air of self-satisfaction that I could -have shot him, and the gagged cook takes his place. - -This young woman is not ill-looking, and is very abashed at having to -make this public appearance. It appears that her glimpse of the -burglar was brief, as with commendable prudence he rapidly fastened -her night-shift over her head, but in that glimpse she recognized my -mustache! - -“Could she tell how it felt?” I ask. - -The point is appreciated by the court, though not, I fear, by the judge, -who looks at me as though calculating the drop he should allow. Yes, it -is all very well to jest about my mustache, but to be hanged by it, that -is a different affair. And the case is very black against me. - -“Has the prisoner any witnesses to call?” asks the judge. - -“No,” I reply, “but I shall make you a speech.” - -And thereupon I delight them with the following oration, an oration -which should have gone on much longer than it did but for a most -unforeseen interruption. - -“My lord, the jury, and my peers,” I begin--remembering so much from my -historical stories--“I am entirely guiltless of this extraordinary and -infamous charge. No one but such a man as Fisher would have brought it!” - [Here I point my finger at the unhappy tenant of Chickawungaree.] - -“No one else of the brave English would have stooped to injure an -innocent and defenceless stranger! As to the butler and the cook, -you have seen their untruthful faces, you have heard their incredible -testimony. I say no more regarding them. The policemen have only shown -that they found me an unwilling and insulted--though invited--guest -of the perfidious Fisher. What harm, then? Have you never been the -unwilling guests of a distasteful host? - -“Who am I? Why did I visit such a person as Fisher? I shall tell you. I -am a French subject, a traveller in England. Only yesterday I arrived -in London. How can I, then, have burgled Madame Thompson? Impossible! -Absurd! I had not set my foot upon the shores of England--” - -At this point the judge, in his dry voice, interrupts me to ask if I can -bring any witnesses to prove this assertion. - -“Witnesses?” I exclaim, not knowing what the devil to add to this -dramatic cry, when, behold! I see, sent by Providence, a young -man rising from his seat in the court. It is my fair-haired -fellow-passenger! - -“May I give evidence?” says he. - -“Though your name be Iscariot, yes!” I cry. - -The judge frowns, for it seems the demand was addressed to him and not -to me; but he permits my acquaintance to enter the box. And now a doubt -assails me. What will he say? Add still more damaging testimony, or -prove that I am the harmless Bunyan? - -He does neither, but in a very composed and assured fashion, that -carries conviction with it, he tells the judge that he travelled with me -from Paris on the very night of the crime, adding that I had appeared to -him a very harmless though somewhat eccentric person. Not the adjectives -I should have chosen myself, perhaps; but, I assure you, I should have -let him call me vulgar or dirty without a word of protest. - -Of course it follows that I cannot be the musical burglar, while as for -my friend Fisher, that worthy gentleman is so disconcerted at the turn -things have taken that he seems as anxious to withdraw his share of the -charge as he was to make it. - -I am saved; the case breaks, down. - -“How's that?” says the judge. - -“Guiltless!” cries the jury. - -And so I am a free man once more, and the cook must swear to another -mustache. - -The first thing I do is to seize my witness and drag him from the court, -repeating my thanks all the while. - -“But how did you come to be in court?” I ask. - -“Oh, I happen to be a barrister!” he explains. “I came in about another -case, and, finding you'd been burgling, I thought I'd stay and see the -fun.” - -“Your case must take care of itself; come and lunch with me.” - -Yes, he can escape. His case will not come on to-day, as mine has taken -so long; and so we go forth together to begin a friendship that I trust -may always endure. - -And to this day I have never paid for Fisher's broken pane of glass. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter VI - - -“_On earth men style him 'Richard,'_ - -_But the gods hail him 'Dick._'” - ---An English Poet (adapted). - - -[Illustration: 9062] - -FRIEND in need.” say the English, “is a friend indeed. And who could be -more in need of a friend than I at that moment? It was like the rolling -up of London fog-banks and the smile of the sun peeping through at -last. No longer was I quite alone in my exile. If you have ever wandered -solitary through an unknown city, listened to a foreign tongue and to -none other, eaten alien viands, fallen into strange misadventures, and -all without a single friendly ear to confide your troubles to, you will -sympathize with the joyous swelling of my heart as I faced my barrister -at that luncheon. - -And he, I assure you, was a very other person from the indifferent -Englishman of the journey. The good heart was showing through, still -obscured as it was by the self-contained manner and the remnants of that -suspicion with which every Briton is taught to regard the insinuating -European. - -I have already given you a sketch of his exterior--the smooth, fair -hair, the ruddy cheek, the clear eye, and, I should add, the compressed -and resolute mouth; also, not least, the admirable fit of his garments. -Now I can fill in the picture: Name, to begin with, Richard Shafthead; -younger son of honest, conservative baronet; eldest brother provided -with an income, I gather, Dick with injunctions to earn one. Hence -attendance at courts of justice, a respectable gravity of apparel, -and that compression of the lips. In speech, courteous upon a slight -acquaintance, though without any excessive anxiety to please; on -greater intimacy, very much to the point without regarding much the -susceptibilities of his audience. Yet this bluntness was, tempered -always by good-fellowship, and sometimes by a smile; and beneath it -flowed, deep down, and scarcely ever bubbling into the light of day, -a stream of sentiment that linked him with the poetry of his race. My -friend Shafthead would have laughed outright had you told him this. -Nevertheless this secret is the skeleton in the respectable English -cupboard. Your John Bull is an edifice of sentiment jealously covered -by a hoarding on which are displayed advertisements of pills and other -practical commodities. It is his one fear lest any one should discover -this preposterous and hideous erection is not the real building. - -Dick's only comment on the above statement would probably be that I had -mixed my metaphors or had exceeded at lunch. But he is shrewd enough -to know in his heart that I have but spoken the truth, even though my -metaphors were as heterogeneous as the ark of Noah. How else can you -explain the astonishing contrast between those who write the songs of -England and those whose industry enables them to recompense the singers? - -No doubt there is a noticeable difference between the poet and the -people in every land and every race, but in England it is so staggering. -The hair of the English poet is so very long, his eye so very frenzied, -his voice so steeped in emotion, so buoyed by melody. Even his prose -appeals to the heart rather than to the head. Thackeray weeps as he -writes of good women; Scott blushes as he writes of bad. No one is -cynical but the villains. The heroines are all pure as the best cocoa. - -Then look at the check suits and the stony eyes of Mr. Cook's protégées. -Do they understand what Tennyson has written for them? If not, why do -they pay for it? - -John Bull and John Milton; William Bull and William Shakespeare; Lord -Bull and Lord Byron; Charles Bull and Charles Dickens; how are these -couples related? By this religious, moral, sentimental stream; welling -in one, hidden in another under ten tons of shyness and roast beef; a -torrent here, a trickle there, sometimes almost dry in a dusty season. -That is how. - -Does Dick again recommend teetotalism as a cure for these speculations? -Come with me to your rooms, my friend, and let us glance through your -library. - -I take up a volume of Shakespeare and find it contains the sonnets. - -“Ah, Shakespeare's sonnets,” I say, with an air of patronage towards -that eminent poet. “You know them?” - -“Used to know 'em a little.” He is giving me another taste of that -characteristic British stare. Evidently he is offended by my tone, and -will fall an easy victim to my next move. - -“They are much overrated,” I say, putting the book away. - -“You should write to the _Times_ about it,” he replies, sarcastically, -and then adds, with conviction, “They are about the finest things in -English.” - -“Yet no Englishman reads them,” I remark, lightly. - -“I used to know half a dozen of 'em by heart,” he retorts. - -Half a dozen of those miracles of sensuous diction off by heart! Prosaic -Briton! I do not say this aloud, but take next the songs of Kipling, -and profess not to understand one of them. To convince me it is not mere -nonsense, he reads and expounds. - -He has been round the world, and shot wild beasts on the veldt and in -the jungle, and can explain allusions and share exotic sentiments. - -Is this man mere plum-pudding and international perfidy, who feels thus -the glamour of the song? - -“Ah, here is a novel of Zola!” I exclaim. “You enjoy him, of course?” - -“A filthy brute,” says Dick. “I read half of that, and I am keeping it -now for shaving-papers.” - -There is perhaps more strength of conviction than critical judgment in -this comment. I might retort that all the water in the world neither has -been passed through a filter nor foams over a fall, and that the pond -and the gutter have their purpose in the world. I do not make this -reply, however; I merely note that a strong sentiment must underlie a -strong prejudice. - -As you will perhaps have gathered, my good Dick had his limitations. -He could be sympathetic; if, for instance, he were to see me insulted, -beaten, robbed of my purse and my mistress, and blinded in one eye, he -would, I am sure, feel for me deeply, and show himself most tactful in -his consolation. But it would require some such well-marked instance to -open the gates of his heart; and in minor matters I should not dream -of applying to him, unless, indeed, it was a practical service he could -perform. - -He himself had held his peace and confided in no one when his fair -cousin married the wealthy manufacturer of soda-water, and his heart had -long since healed. In the days of his wild oats, when duns were knocking -at his door, he had retired from St. James Street to a modest apartment -in the Temple, sold such of his effects as were marketable, and -philosophically sought a cheap restaurant and a coarser tobacco. His -debts were now paid and all was well again. When he did not get the -degree he was expected to at Oxford, he may have said “damn,” but I -doubt if he enlarged on this observation. What did that disappointment -matter to-day? Then why should other people make a fuss if they were -hurt? - -Yet his heart was as a child's if you could extract it from its -wrappings of tin-foil and brown paper, and I am happy I knew him long -enough to see him “play the fool,” as he would term it. - -On that first afternoon of our acquaintance I found him courteous before -lunch, genial after (I took care to “make him proud.” as the English -say). I was perfectly frank; told him my true name, the plot that had -miscarried, my flight to England--everything. - -“I am not Bunyan, I am not even Cellarini, but merely Augustine -d'Haricot, eternally at your service,” I said. “You have saved me from -prison, perhaps from the scaffold.” - -He laughed. - -“It wouldn't have been as bad as that, but I'm glad to have been of any -use.” - -And then changing the subject, as an Englishman does when complimented -(for they hold that either you lie and are a knave, or tell the truth -and are a fool), he asked: - -“What are you going to do now?” - -“That depends upon your advice,” I replied. “What is my danger? How wise -is it to move freely in this country?” - -“There is no danger at all if it is only a political offence,” he -answered. “Unless you've been picking pockets, or anything else as -well.” - -I answered him I had not, and he promised to inquire into the case and -give me a full assurance on the next morning. - -“And now,” I said, “tell me, my friend, how to live as an Englishman. I -do not mean to adopt the English mind, the English sentiment, but only -to move in your world, so long as I must live in it. I want to see, I -want to hear, I want to record my impressions and my adventures. As the -time is not ripe to wield the sword, I shall wield the eyes and the pen. -Also, I shall doubtless fall in love, and I should like to hunt a fox -and shoot a pheasant.” - -We laughed together at this programme; in brief, we made a good -beginning. - -That afternoon we set out together to look for suitable apartments for -myself, and by a happy chance we had hardly gone a hundred paces before -we spied a gentleman approaching us whom Shafthead declared to be a -veritable authority on London life; also a cousin of his own. - -“But will he not be busy?” I inquired. - -“Young devil,” answered Shafthead, “it will serve to keep him out of -mischief for an hour or two.” - -Thereupon I was presented to Mr. Teddy Lumme, a young gentleman of -small stature, with a small, cheerful, clean-shaven, dark face, and a -large hat that sloped backward and sideways towards a large collar. His -elbows moved as though he were driving a cab; his boots shone brightly -enough to serve for mirrors; his morning-coat was cut in imitation of -the “pink” of a huntsman; a large mass of variegated silk was fastened -beneath his collar by a neat pearl pin; in a word, he belonged to a type -that is universal, yet this specimen was unmistakably English. In age I -learned afterwards that he was just twenty-five, emancipated for little -more than a year from the University of Oxford, and still enjoying the -relief from the rigorous rules of that institution. No accusation -of reticence to be made against Mr. Lumme! He talked all the time, -cheerfully and artlessly. - -“You want rooms?” he said. “Quelle chose? I mean, don't you know, what -kind? I don't know much French, I'm afraid. Oh, you talk English? -Devilish glad to hear it. I say, Dick, you remember that girl I told you -of? Well, it's just as I said. I knew, damn it all. What do you want to -give?” (This to me.) “You don't care much? That simplifies matters.” - -In this strain Mr. Lumme entertained us on our way, Shafthead regarding -him with a half-amused, half-sardonic grin, of which his relative -seemed entirely oblivious, while I enjoyed myself amazingly. I felt like -Captain Cook on the gallant _Marchand_ palavering with the chiefs of -some equatorial state. - -“I demand a cold bath and an English servant,” I said. “Anything else -characteristic you can add, but those are essential.” - -[Illustration: 8070] - -I do not know whether Lumme quite understood this to be a jest. He took -me to three sets of apartments, and at each asked first to be shown the -bathroom, and then the servant, after which he inquired the price, and -whether a tenant was at liberty to introduce any guest at any hour. - -Finally, to end the story of that day, which began in jail and ended -so merrily, I found myself the tenant of a highly comfortable set of -apartments, with everything but the valet supplied at an astonishingly -high price. - -“However,” I said to myself, “it may be expensive, but it is better than -ten years' transportation for burgling Fisher!” - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter VII - - -“_Little, cheerful, and honest--do you not know the species?_” - ---Kovaleffski. - - -[Illustration: 9072] - -HAD left my hotel and settled in my apartments; the labels with “Nelson -Bunyan” were removed from my luggage; I had been assured that so long as -I remained on English soil I was safe. Next thing I must find a servant; -one who should “know the ropes” of an English life. Lumme had promised -to make inquiries for me, and I had impressed upon him that the -following things were essential--in fact, I declared that without them I -should never entertain an application for one instant. First, he must -be of such an appearance as would do me credit, whether equipped in the -livery I had already designed for him, in the cast-off suits I should -provide him with, or in the guise of an attendant at the chase or upon -the moors. Then, that he must be honest enough to trust in the room with -a handful of mixed change, sober enough to leave alone with a decanter, -discerning enough to arrange an odd lot of sixteen boots into eight -pairs, cleanly enough to pack collars without soiling them. Finally, -he must be polite, obliging, industrious, discreet, and, if possible, -a little religious--not sufficiently so to criticise my conduct, but -enough to regulate his own. - -I wrote this list down and handed it to the obliging Teddy. - -“You will procure him by this afternoon?” I said. - -“I know a man who keeps a Methodist footman in his separate -establishment,” answered Lumme, after a moment's reflection. “That's the -kind of article you require, I suppose. If you get 'em too moral there's -apt to be a screw loose somewhere, and if you get 'em the other way the -spoons go. Well, I can't promise, but I'll do my best.” - -So this amiable young man departed, and I, to pass the time, walked into -Piccadilly, and there took my seat once more upon the top of an omnibus -to enjoy the sunshine, and be for a time a spectator of the life in the -streets. To obtain a better view I sat down on the front bench close to -the driver's elbow, and we had not gone very far before this individual -turned to me and remarked with a cordiality that pleased me infinitely, -and a perspicacity that astonished me: - -“Been long in London, sir?” - -“You perceive that I am a stranger, then?” I asked. - -“Well,” said the man, as he cracked his whip and drove his lumbering -coach straight at an orifice between two cabs just wide enough, it -seemed to me, for a wheelbarrow, “I'm a observer, I am. When I sees that -speckled tie droopin' from a collar of unknown horigin, and them rum -kind of boots, I says to myself a Rooshian, for 'alf a sovereign. Come -from Rooshia, sir?” - -The man's naïveté delighted me. - -“I belong to an allied power,” I replied, wondering if his powers of -observation would enable him to decide my nationality now. - -He seemed to debate the question as, with an apropos greeting to each -cabman, his 'bus bumped them to the side and sailed down the middle of -the street. - -“Native o' Manchuria, perhaps?” he hazarded. - -“Not quite; try again.” - -“Siberia?” he suggested next. - -Seeing that either his imagination or my appearance confined his -speculations to Asia, I told him forthwith that I was French. - -“French?” he said. “Well, now I'm surprised to 'ear it, sir. If you'll -excuse me saying so, you don't look like no Frenchman.” - -“Why not?” I asked. - -“I always thought they was little chaps, no bigger than a monkey. Why, -you're quite as tall as most Englishmen.” - -Considering that my friend could not possibly have measured more than -five feet, two inches, and that I am five feet, nine inches, in my -socks, I was highly diverted by this. - -“Have you seen many Frenchmen?” I asked him. “I knew one once,” he -replied, after a minute or two's thought, and a brief interruption to -invite some ladies on the pavement to enter his 'bus. “'E was a waiter -at the Bull's 'Ead, 'Ighbury. I drove a 'bus that way then, and there -was a young lady served in the bar 'im and me was both sweet on. Nasty, -greasy little man 'e was--meaning no reflection on you, sir. They -couldn't make out where the fresh butter went, and when 'e left--which -'e 'ad to for kissing the missis when she wasn't 'erself, 'aving 'ad a -drop more than 'er usual--do you know what they found, sir?” - -I confessed my inability to guess this secret. “Why, 'e'd put it all on -'is beastly 'air, two pounds a week, sir, of the very best fresh butter -in 'Ighbury. Perhaps, sir, I've been prejudiced against Frenchmen in -consequence.” - -I admitted that he had every excuse, and asked him whether my buttered -compatriot had won the maiden's affections in addition to his other -offences. - -“No, sir,” said he, “I'm 'appy to say she 'ad more sense. More sense -than to take either of us,” he added, with a deep sigh, and then, as if -to quench melancholy reflections, hailed another driver who was passing -us in the most hilarious fashion. - -“'Old your 'at on, ole man!” he shouted. “Them opera-'ats is getting -scarce, you know!” - -[Illustration: 8076] - -The other driver, a bottle-nosed man, redeemed only from unusual -shabbiness by the head-gear in question, winked, leered, and made some -reply about “not 'aving such a fat head underneath it as some people.” - -My friend turned to me with a confidential air. “You saw that gentleman -as I addressed?” he said, in an impressive voice. “Well, that man was -driving 'is own kerridge not five years ago. On the Stock Exchange 'e -was, and worth ten thousand a year if 'e was worth a penny; 'ouse in -Park Lane, and married to the daughter of a baronite. 'E's told me all -that 'isself, so it's true and no 'umbug. - -“'Ow did 'e lose 'is money? Hunfortunit speculations and consols goin' -down; but you, being a furriner, won't likely understand.” - -Looking as unsophisticated as possible, I pressed my friend for an -explanation of these mysteries. - -[Illustration: 9077] - -“Well,” said he, “it's something like this: If you goes on the Stock -Exchange you buys what they calls consols--that's stocks and shares -of various sorts and kinds, but principally mines in Australia, and -inventions for to make things different from what they is at present. -That's what's called makin' a corner, which ain't a corner exactly in -the usual sense--not as used in England, that's to say, but a kind o' -American variety. - -“What, O Bill! Bloomin', thank you. 'Ow's yourself?” (This to another -driver passed upon the road.) - -“As I was savin', sir, this 'ere pore friend o' mine speculated in -consols, and prices being what they calls up, and then shiftin', -he loses and the bank wins. Inside o' twenty-four hours that there -gentleman was changed from one of the richest men in the city into a -pore cove a-looking out for a job like you and me.” - -“And he chose driving an omnibus?” I asked. “'Adn't got no choice. -He was too much of a gentleman to sink to a ordinary perfession, and -drivin' a pair o' 'orses seems to 'im more in keepin' with 'is position -than drivin' one 'orse in a cab, which was the only thing left.” - -He paused, and then shaking his head with an air of sentiment, -continued: - -“Wunderful 'ow sensitive he is, sir. He wouldn't part with that there -hopera-'at, not if you give him five 'undred pounds; yet he can't a-bear -to 'ear it chipped, not except in a kind o' delicate way, same as I did -just now. You 'eard me, sir? 'Hop-era-'ats is scarce,' says I; but -I dursn't sail closer to the wind nor that. 'E'd say, “Old your jaw, -Halfred,' or words to that effec', quick enough. Comes o' being bred too -fine for the job, I tells 'im often; I says it to 'im straight, sir.' -Comes o' being bred too fine for the job,' says I.” - -At this point my friend's attention was called from the romantic history -of his fellow-driver to the exigencies of their common profession, and -I had an opportunity of studying more attentively this entertaining -specimen of the cockney. - -He was, as I have said, a very short man, from thirty to thirty-five -years of age, I judged, redcheeked and snub-nosed, with a bright, -cheerful eye, and the most friendly and patronizing manner. Yet he was -perfectly respectful and civil, despite his knowledge of my unfortunate -nationality. In fact, it seemed his object to place me as far as -possible at my ease, and enable me to forget for a space the blot upon -my origin. - -“There's some quite clever Frenchmen, I' ve 'eard tell,” he said, -presently. “That there 'idro-phobia man--and Napoleon Bonyparty, in his -way, too, I suppose, though we don't think so much of 'im over 'ere.” - -“I am sorry to hear that, I said. - -“Well, sir,” he explained, “we believes in a man 'aving his fair share of -what's goin'. Like as if me and a friend goes inter a public 'ouse, and -another gentleman he comes in and he says, 'What's it going to be this -time?' or, 'Name your gargle, gents,' or words to some such effec'; and -we says, 'Right you are, old man,' and 'as a drink at his expense. -Now it wouldn't be fair if I says to the young lady, 'I'll 'ave a 'ole -bottle of Scotch whiskey, miss, and what I can't drink I'll take 'ome in -a noospaper,' and I leaves 'im to pay for all that; would it, sir? Well, -that's what Bonyparty done; 'e tried to get more nor his share o' what -was goin' in Europe. Not that it affec's us much, we being able to take -care of ourselves, but we don't like to see it, sir. That's 'ow it is.” - -All this time we had been going eastward into the city of London, and -now we were arrived at the most extraordinary scene of confusion you -can possibly imagine. I should be afraid to say how many 'buses and cabs -were struggling and surging in a small open space at the junction of -several streets. Foot-passengers in hundreds bustled along the pavements -or dodged between the horses, and, immobile in the midst of it, the -inevitable policeman appeared actually to be sifting this mob according -to some mysterious scheme. - -“Cheer-O,” cried my friend upon the box. “'Ow's the price o' lime-juice -this morning? - -“That there's wot we calls the Bank, sir, where the Queen keeps 'er -money, and the Rothschilds and the like o' them; guarded by seven -'undred of the flower o' the British army, it is, the hofficer bein' -hinvariably a millionaire hisself, in case he's tempted to steal. Garn -yerself and git yer face syringed with a fire-'ose. You can't clean it -no 'ow else. The 'andsome hedifice to your right, sir, is the Mansion -'Ouse; not the station of that name, but the 'ome of the Lord Mayor; -kind o' governor of the city, 'e is; 'as a hextraordinary show of -'is own on taking the hoath of hofflce; people comes all the way from -Halgiers and San Francisco to see it; camels and 'orses got up like -chargers of the holden time, and men disguised so as their own girls -wouldn't know 'em. Representing harts, hindustries, and hempire, that's -their game. Pleeceman, them there bloomin' whiskers of yours will get -mowed off by a four-wheel cab some day, and then 'ow'll you look? Too -bloomin' funny, am I? More'n them whiskers is, hinterfering with the -traffic like that.” - -“Yes, sir, we 'as a rest 'ere for a few minutes; we ain't near at the -end yet, though.” - -[Illustration: 9081] - -I shall leave it to your judgment to guess which of these remarks were -addressed to me and which to various of his countrymen in this vortex -of wheels and human beings. For a few minutes he now sat at ease in a -quieter street (though, my faith! no street in this city of London but -would seem busy in most towns), apparently deliberating what topic -to enter upon next. I say apparently deliberating, but on further -acquaintance with my good “Halfred,” as he called himself (the aspirated -form of “Alfred” used by the cockney Alfred being the name of England's -famous monarch), I came to the conclusion that his mind never was known -to go through any such process. What came first into his head flew -straight to his tongue, till by constant use that organ had got into a -state of unstable equilibrium, like the tongue of a toy mandarin, that -oscillates for five minutes if you move him ever so gently. - -In a word, Halfred was an inveterate chatterbox. - -Even had I been that very compatriot of mine who had so deeply, and, -I could not but admit, so justly, roused his ire, he would, I am sure, -have chattered just as hard. - -By the time we were under way again and threading the eastern alleys of -the city--for they are called streets only by courtesy--his tongue had -started too, and he was talking just as hard as ever. Now, however, his -conversation took a more reminiscent and a more personal turn, and this -led to such sweeping consequences that I shall keep the last half of our -journey together for a separate chapter. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter VIII - - -“_Your valet? Pardon; I thought he had come to measure the gas!_” - ---Hercule d'Enville. - - -[Illustration: 9083] - -UT of the limits of this city of Lon-don we drove into the beginnings of -the east. Not the Orient of the poet and the traveller, the land of the -thousand-and-one nights, but the miles and miles of brick where some -millions of Londoners pass an existence that ages me to think of. -Picture to yourself a life more desolate of joys than the Arctic, more -crowded with fellow-animals than any ant-heap, uglier than the Great -Desert, as poor and as diseased as Job. Not even the wealthy there to -gossip about and gape at, no great house to envy and admire, no glitter -anywhere to distract, except in the music-halls of an evening. Yet they -work on and do not hang themselves--poor devils! - -But I grow serious where I had set out to be gay, and thoughtful when -you are asking for a somersault. Worse still, I am solemn, sitting at -the elbow of my cheerful Halfred. - -That genial driver of the omnibus was not one whit depressed upon coming -into this region, nor, to tell the truth, was I that morning, for I -could not see the backward parts, but only the wide main road, very -airy after the lanes of the city, and crowded with quite a different -population. No longer the business-man with shining hat, hands in -pockets, quick step, and anxious face; no longer the well-dressed woman -hurrying likewise through the throng; no longer the jingling hansom; -but, instead, the compatriot of the prophets, the costermonger with -his barrow, the residue of Hungary and Poland, the pipe of the British -workman. Wains of hay in the midst of the road, drays and lorries, and -an occasional omnibus jolting at the sides; to be sure there was life -enough to look at. - -As for my friend, his talk began to turn more upon his own private -affairs. Apparently there was less around to catch his attention, and, -as I have said, he had to talk, and so spoke of himself. As I sat on -the top of that 'bus listening with continuous amusement to his candid -reminiscences and naïve philosophy, I studied him more attentively than -ever, for, as you shall presently hear, I had more reason. His dress, -I noticed, was neat beyond the average of drivers; a coat of box-cloth, -once light yellow, now of various shades, but still quite respectable; a -felt hat with a flat top, glazed to throw off the rain; a colored scarf -around his neck, whether concealing a collar or not I could not say; -and something round his knees that might once have been a rug or a -horse-cloth, or even a piece of carpet. - -“Yus,” said Halfred, meditatively, as he cracked his whip and urged his -'bus at headlong speed through a space in the traffic, “it's some rum -changes o' luck I've 'ad in my day. - -[Illustration: 9085] - -My father he give me a surprisin' good eddication for a hembyro -'bus-driver, meaning me to go into the stevedore business in Lime-'ousc -basin, same as 'e was 'imself, but my 'ead got swelled a-talkin' to a -most superior policeman what 'ad come down in the world, and nothing -would sat-ersfy me but mixin' in 'igh life. So our rector 'e gives me a -introduction to a bloomin' aunt o' his in the country what wanted a -boy in buttons, and into buttons I goes, and I says to myself, says I, -'Halfred, you're goin' to be a credit to your fam'ly, you are'; that's -what I says. Blimy, I often larf now a-thinkin' of it!” - -He paused to blow his nose in a primitive but effective fashion, -and smiled gently to himself at these recollections of his youthful -optimism. - -“How long did you remain in these buttons?” I asked him. - -“Till I outgrowed them,” said Halfred. - -“And after that?” - -“I was servant to a gentleman what hadvertised for a honest young man, -hexperience bein' no hobject.” - -I asked him how he liked that. - -“I was comfertable enough; that I can't deny,” said Halfred. - -“And why, then, did you leave?” - -“The heverlastin' reason w'y I does most foolish things, sir. My 'eart -is too suscepterble, and the ladies'-maid was too captivatin'. She -wouldn't 'ave nothin' to do with me, so I chucks the 'ole thing up, and, -says I, 'I'll be hinderpendent, I will.' 'Ence I'm a-drivin' a 'bus.” - -“Are you happy now?” I inquired. - -“Well,” said he, candidly, “I couldn't say as I was exactly '_umped_; -but it ain't all bottled beer sittin' in this bloomin' arm-chair with -your whiskers froze stiff, and the 'orses' ears out o' sight in the -fog. And there ain't much variety in it, nor much chance of becomin' a -millionaire. Hoften and hoften I thinks to myself, 'What O for a pair -o' trousers to fold, and a good fire in the servants' 'all, and -hinderpendence be blowed!'” - -[Illustration: 9087] - -I think it was at this moment that an inspiration came into my head. It -was rash, you will doubtless think. - -“I 'ope so, sir,” said he, with becoming modesty and evident surprise. - -“And now you are experienced?” - -“Well, sir,” he said, “you've 'ad threepence worth o' this 'ere 'bus, -and you 'aven't seed me scrape off no paint yet.” - -“But, I mean, you are experienced in folding trousers, in packing -shirts, in varnishing boots, in all the niceties of your old profession, -are you not? You would do credit to a gentleman if he should engage -you?” - -It was certainly sudden, but then, as perhaps you have discovered ere -now, I am not the most prudent of men. This little, cheerful Halfred had -taken my fancy enormously, and my heart was warmed towards him. - -“Halfred,” I asked, abruptly, “are you still an honest young man?” - -Halfred looked at me sharply, with a true cockney's suspicion of what he -feared might be “chaff.” - -“You ain't a-pulling my leg, sir?” he inquired, guardedly. - -“On the contrary, I am taking your hand as an honest and experienced -valet, Halfred.” - -“You knows of a gentleman as wants one?” said he. - -“I do,” I answered, with conviction. - -“It ain't yourself, sir?” - -“It is,” said I. - -“Blimy!” exclaimed Halfred, in an audible aside. - -“What about references?” said he. - -“Oh, references; yes, I suppose you had better have some references,” I -replied, though, to tell the truth, I had not thought of them before. - -He rubbed his chin with the back of his hand and screwed his rosy face -into a deliberative expression, while his eyes twinkled cheerfully. - -“I don't mind 'aving a go at the job,” he remarked, after a couple of -minutes' reflection. - -“Apply this evening,” I said. “Bring a reference if you have one, and I -shall engage you, Halfred!” - -For the rest of our journey together his gratitude and pleasure, his -curiosity, and his qualms as to how much he remembered and how much he -had forgotten of a man-servant's duties, delighted me still further, and -made me congratulate myself upon my discrimination and judgment. - -We parted company among the docks and shipping of the very far east of -London, and after rambling for a time by the busy wharves and breezy -harbor basins, and, marvelling again at the vastness and variety of this -city, I mounted another omnibus and drove back to my rooms. - -“A man to see you, sir,” said the maid. - -Could it be Halfred, already? No, it was a very different individual; -a tall and stately man, with a prim mouth and an eye of unfathomable -discretion. He stood in an attitude denoting at once respect for me and -esteem for himself, and followed me to my room upon a gently creaking -boot. - -“Well,” said I, at a loss to know whether he came to collect a tax or -induce me to order a coffin, “what can I do for you?” - -“Mr. Lumme, sir,” said he, in a mincing voice, “has informed me that -you was requiring a manservant. Enclosed you will find Air. Lumme's -recommendation.” - -He handed me a letter which ran as follows: - -_Dear Monsieur,--I have found the very man you want. He was valet to -Lord Pluckham for five years, and could not have learned more from any -one. Pluck-ham was very particular as to dress, and had many affairs -requiring a discreet servant. He only left when P. went bankrupt, and -has had excellent experience since. Been witness in two divorce cases, -and is highly recommended by all; also a primitive Wesleyan by religion, -and well educated. You cannot find a better man in London, nor as good, -I assure you. His name is John Mingle. Don't lose this chance. I have -had some trouble, but am glad to have found the very article._ - -_“Yours truly,_ - -_“Edward Lumme._” - -This was a pretty dilemma! The industrious and obliging Lumme had -found one jewel, and in the meanwhile I had engaged another. I felt so -ungrateful and guilty that I was ashamed to let my good Teddy discover -what I had done. So instead of telling Mr. Mingle at once that the place -was filled, I resolved to find him deficient in some important point, -and decline to engage him on these grounds. Easier said than done. - -“Your experience has been wide?” I asked, looking critical and feeling -foolish. - -“If I may say so, sir, it has,” said he, glancing down modestly at the -hat he held in his hands. - -“You can iron a hat?” I inquired, casting round in my mind for some task -too heavy for this Hercules. - -He smiled with, I thought, a little pity. - -“Oh, certingly, sir.” - -“Can you cook?” - -“I have hitherto stayed at houses where separate cooks was kept,” said -he; “but if we should happen to be a-camping out in Norway, sir, there -isn't nothing but French pastry I won't be happy to oblige with--on a -occasion, that's to say, sir.” - -Not only were Mr. Alingle's accomplishments comprehensive, but he -evidently looked upon himself as already engaged by me. Internally -cursing his impudence, I asked next if he could sew. - -“At a pinch, sir,” said he. “That is,” he added, correcting this vulgar -expression, “if the maids is indisposed, or like as if we was on board -your yacht, sir, and there was no hother alternative.” - -“We” again--and it seemed Mr. Alingle expected me to keep a yacht! - -Could he load and clean a gun, saddle a horse, ride a bicycle, oil a -motor-car, read a cipher, and manage a camera? Yes; in the absence of -the various officials which “our” establishment maintained for these -purposes, Mr. Mlingle would be able and willing to oblige. - -Moreover, he talked with a beautiful accent, and only very occasionally -misused an aspirate; and there could be no doubt he would make an -impressive appearance in any livery I could design. Even as a Pierrot -he would have looked dignified. On what pretext could I reject this -paragon? - -“Can you drive an omnibus?” I demanded, at last, with a flash of genius. - -This time Mr. Alingle looked fairly disconcerted. - -“_Drive a homnibus!_” said he. “No, sir; my position and prospec's have -always been such that I am happy to say I have never had the opportunity -of practising.” - -[Illustration: 9092] - -I shook my head. - -“I am afraid,” I said, “that you won't suit me, Mingle. It is my -amusement to keep a private omnibus.” - -“Oh, private,” said Mr. Mingle, as though that might make a difference. - -But quickly I added: - -“It is painted and upholstered just like the others. In fact, I buy -them secondhand when beyond repair. Also I take poor people from the -work-house for a drive. And you must drive it in all weathers.” - -That was the end of Mr. Mingle. In fact, I think he was glad to find -himself safely out of my room again, and what he thought of my tastes, -and even of my sanity, I think I can guess. - -That evening my friend Halfred appeared, bringing a testimonial to his -honesty and sobriety from the proprietor of the stables, and a brief -line of eulogy from the official who collected the pence and supplied -the tickets upon his own “bus. This last certificate ran thus--I give it -exactly as it stood: - -“_certtifieing alfred Winkes is I of The best obligging and You will -find him kind to animils yours Sinseerly P. Widdup_.” - -As Halfred explained to me, this was entirely unsolicited, and Mr. -Widdup, he was sure, would feel hurt if he learned that it had not been -presented. - -“You can tell him,” I said, “that it has secured the situation for you.” - -I had just told him that I should expect him to begin his duties upon -the following morning, and he was inspecting my apartment with an air of -great interest and satisfaction, when there came a knock upon the door, -and in walked Sir. Teddy Lumme himself. He was in evening-dress, covered -by the most recent design in top-coats and the most spotless of white -scarfs. On his head he wore a large opera-hat, tilted at the same angle, -and on his feet small and shiny boots. - -“Hullo,” said he. “Sorry; am I interrupting? Came to see if you'd booked -Mingle. I suppose you have.'” - -“A thousand thanks, my friend, for your trouble.” - -I replied, with an earnestness proportionate to my feeling of -compunction. “Mingle was, indeed, admirable--exquisite. In fact, he was -perfect in every respect save one.” - -“What's that?” said Teddy, looking a little surprised. - -“He could not drive an omnibus.” - -I am afraid my friend Teddy thought that I was joking. He certainly -seemed to have difficulty in finding a reply to this. Then an -explanation struck him. - -“You mean what we call a coach,” he suggested. “Thing with four horses -and a toot-toot-toot business--post-horn, we call it. What?” - -“I mean an omnibus,” I replied. “The elegant, the fascinating, British -'bus. And here I have found a man who can drive me. This is my new -servant, Halfred Winkles.” - -Lumme stared at him, as well he might, for my Halfred cut a very -different figure from the grave, polished, quietly attired Mingle. To -produce the very best impression possible, he had dressed himself in a -suit of conspicuously checkered cloth, very tight in the leg and wide -at the foot, and surmounted by a very bright-blue scarf tightly knotted -round his neck. In his button-hole was an artificial tulip, in his -pocket a wonderful red-and-yellow handkerchief. His ruddy face shone so -brightly that I shrewdly suspected his friend Wid-dup had scrubbed it -with a handful of straw, and he held in his hand, pressed against his -breast, the same shining waterproof hat beneath which he drove the 'bus. - -“Left your last place long?” asked Lumme, of this apparition. - -“Gave 'em notice this arternoon, sir,” said Halfred. - -“Who were you with?” - -[Illustration: 9095] - -“London General,” replied Halfred. - -“I hope you'll turn out all right, and do my friend, the monsieur here, -credit.” - -As he turned to go he added to me, aside: - -“Rum-looking chap, he seems to me. Keep an eye on him, I'd advise -you. Personally, I'd have chosen Mingle, but o' course you know best. -Good-night.” - -And I was left with the faithful Halfred. - -“A London general?” said Teddy. “Sounds all right. He gave you a good -character, I sup----” - -I interposed. - -“Well,” said Lumme, dubiously, - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter IX - - -“_I often envy the snail. Mon Dieu, think of at ways travelling beneath -the comfortable roof of one's own house!_” - ---Maxime Argon. - - -[Illustration: 9096] - -ND now I must tell you something about my rooms, the little ledge in -London in which I rested, and flapped my wings and preened my feathers. -The door of the house rented by Mr. and Mrs. Titch, and disposed of -piece-meal to unmarried gentlemen, looked upon a very tiny square -opening off a busy street. But my two chambers were at the back, and -from their windows I saw nothing of square or street, or any house at -all. The green Hyde Park with its trees and grass, and the wide drive -where carriages and people aired themselves and lingered, that was what -I saw; and often I could fancy myself in the woods and the gardens about -a certain house in another land, and then I would shut my eyes and let -the picture grow and grow, till I could hear known voices and look upon -old faces that perhaps I should never again hear or see in any other -fashion. Yes, the exile may be very gay, and jingle the foreign coins -in his pocket, and whistle the airs of alien songs, and afterwards write -humorously of his adventures; but there are many moments when he and the -canary in the cage are very near together. - -For myself, I am best, my friends say, when I am laughing at the world -and playing somewhat the buffoon. And, of course, I am naturally anxious -to appear at my best. Besides, I must confess that I do not think this -world is an affair to be treated with a too great gravity; not, at -least, if one can help it. Frequently it makes itself ridiculous even in -the partial eyes of its own inhabitants. How much more frequently if one -could sit outside--upon a passing shower, for instance--and see it as we -look upon a play? Ten to one, some of our most sententious friends would -seem no different from those amusing sparrows discussing the law of -property in a bread-crumb, or from my dog playing the solemn comedy of -the buried bone. Therefore I always think it safer to assume that there -is some unseen cynic, some creature in the fourth dimension, looking -over my shoulder as I write, and exclaiming, when I grow too sensible, -“Oh, the wise fool!” - -Yet for all this excellent philosophy, and in spite of a most reasonable -desire to say those things that are instantly rewarded by a smile, -rather than those an audience receives in silence, and perhaps approves, -perhaps condemns--despite all this, the rubbing of the world upon a set -of nerves does not always make one merry; and in that humor I should -sometimes like to perpetrate a serious sentence. If ever I succumb to -this temptation of the writer's devil, please turn the page and do not -linger over the indiscretion. - -Therefore I shall pass quickly over the thin ice of sentiment, the days -when I felt lonely on my comfortable ledge, the hours I spent looking at -the fire. More amusing to tell you of the bright lining to my clouds; -of the sitting-room, for instance, low in the ceiling, commodious, and -shaped, I think, to fit the chimneys or the stairs or the water-butt -outside; at any rate, to suit something that required two unequal -recesses and three non-rectangular corners. It was on the ground-floor, -and had two French windows (of which the adjective cheered me, I think, -as much as the noun). These opened upon a little, stone-paved space, -shaded by a high tree in the park, and which I called my garden. - -Rejecting some articles of my landlord's furniture as too splendid -for an untitled tenant--a plush-covered settee, for instance, and -an alabaster tea-table, adorned with cut-glass trophies from the -drawing-room of a bankrupt alderman--I replaced them by a bookcase, -three easy-chairs, and an inviting sofa of my own; I bought substitutes -for the engravings of “The Child's First Prayer” and “The Last Kiss,” - and the colored plates representing idyllic passages from the lives of -honest artisans, which had regaled my predecessor; I recurtained the -dear French windows. - -Neither Mr. Titch nor his good wife entirely approved of these changes. -In fact, I suspect they would have given such a Goth notice to quit in -a month had it not been for the reflection that, after all, such -eccentricities were only to be expected of a foreigner. The English -have a most amusing contempt for the rest of mankind, accompanied by -an equally amusing toleration for the peculiarities that are naturaly -associated with such degenerates. The Chinese, I understand, have an -equal national modesty, but their contempt for the foreigner finds -expression in a desire to decapitate his mangled remains. John Bull, -on the other hand, will not only allow but expect you to walk upon your -head, eat rats and mice, maintain a staff of poisonous serpents, and -even play the barrel-organ. This goes to such a length that supposing -you beat him at something he most prides himself upon, such as rowing, -boxing, or manufactures, he will but smile and shake his head and say, -“These are, indeed, most remarkable animals.” - -Mr. and Mrs. Titch were no exceptions to this rule, and I think that -in time they even came to have an affection for and a pride in their -preposterous tenant, much like an enthusiastic savant who handicaps -himself with a half-tamed cobra. - -Mr. Titch was a little, gray-haired man, with a respectful manner -overlaid upon a consequential air. He had enjoyed varied experience as -footman and butler in several families of distinction, and my Halfred -had been but a short time in the house before he became tremendously -impressed by Mr. Titch's reminiscences of the great, and his vast -knowledge of Halfred's own profession. - -“Wonderful man, Mr. Titch, sir,” he would say to me. “What 'e don't -know about our Henglish haristocracy ain't worth knowing. You'd 'ardly -believe it, sir, but he seed the Dook of Balham puttin' his arm round -Lady Sarah Elcey's waist three months before their engagement was in -the papers, and the Dook 'e says to 'im, 'Titch,' says he, ''ere's a -five-pun' note; you're a man of discretion, you are, and what you -sees you keeps to yourself, don't you? I mean no 'arm,' he says. 'I'll -hundertake to marry the lady if you only gives me time.' And Mr. Titch, -he lay low three 'ole months a-knowing a secret like that.” - -Mr. Titch's caution and advice were certainly serviceable to Halfred, -who was rapidly becoming transformed from the cheerful 'bus-driver into -the obliging valet. Whether the world did not lose more than I gained -by this change I shall not undertake to say; but I can always -console myself for depriving society of a friend, and Halfred of his -“hinderpendence,” by picturing the little man, poorly protected by his -nondescript rug, driving his 'bus all day through the wind and the rain, -he, at least, enjoyed the transformation; and one result is worth a -hundred admirable theories. Besides, the virtues of Halfred remained the -virtues of Halfred through all the polishings of circumstances and Mr. -Titch. - -For the good Mrs. Titch, my discerning servant expressed a respect only -a shade less profound than his homage to her spouse. Now this excellent -lady, though motherly in appearance and wonderfully dignified in -the black silk in which she rustled to church of a Sunday, was not -remarkable either for acuteness of mind or that wide knowledge of the -world enjoyed by Mr. Titch. She knew little of the aristocracy except -through his reminiscences, though I am bound to say her respect for that -august institution was as profound as Major Pendennis himself could have -desired. Also her observations on that portion of the world she had met -were distinguished by an erroneous and solemn foolishness that cannot -have passed unnoticed by Halfred. - -Yet he quoted and reverenced her with an inexplicable lack of -discrimination. - -“Mrs. Titch is what I calls, sir, a genuwine lady in a 'umble sphere,” - he once remarked to me. “Her delicacy is surprisin'.” - -Yes, there must be some mysterious glamour about these worthy people, -and this glamour I began to have dark suspicions was none other than -Miss Aramatilda Titch, daughter of the ex-butler and his genuine lady. - -At first I saw this maiden seldom, and then only by glimpses. As -more than one of these revealed her in curl-papers, and as I do not -appreciate woman thus decked out, I paid her but little attention. But -after a week or two had passed I surprised her one afternoon conversing -in my sitting-room with the affable Halfred. - -“Miss Titch is a-lookin' to see if the windows want cleaning,” he -explained. Though, as they were standing in the recess farthest removed -from the windows, I came to the conclusion that other matters also were -being discussed. - -It was about this time that I had hired a piano to console my solitude, -and a day or two later, as I came towards my room, I heard a tinkle of -music. Pushing the door gently open, I saw Miss Aramatilda picking out -the air of a polka, and Halfred listening to this melody with the most -undisguised admiration. - -This time his explanation was more lamely delivered, while Aramatilda -showed the liveliest confusion and dismay. - -“My dear Miss Titch,” I assured her, “by all means practise my piano -while I am out--provided, of course, that Mr. Winkles gives you -permission. She asked you, no doubt, if she might play it, Halfred?” - -This did not diminish their confusion, I am afraid, and after that their -concerts were better protected against surprise. - -Not that I should have objected very strongly to take Halfred's place as -audience one day, for these further opportunities of seeing Miss Titch -roused in me some sympathy with my valet. Aramatilda was undoubtedly -attractive with her hair freed from a too severe restraint, a plump, -brown-eyed young woman, smiling in the most engaging fashion when -politely addressed. Indeed, I should have addressed her more frequently -had not Halfred shown such evident interest in her himself. In these -matters I have always held it better that master and man should be -separately apportioned. - -There remains but one other inhabitant of this house who comes into -my story and that was a certain old gentleman living in the rooms -immediately over mine. In fact, we two were the only lodgers, and so, -having few friends as yet, I began to feel some interest in him. - -I had heard him referred to always as “the General,” and the few -glimpses I had had of him confirmed this title. Figure to yourself an -erect man of middle height, white-mustached, quick in his step, with an -eye essentially military--that is to say, expressionless in repose, keen -when aroused--and do you not allow that, if he is not a general, he at -least ought to be? - -“Who is this general?” I asked Halfred one day. - -“As rummy a old customer as ever was, sir,” said Halfred. “Been here -for three years and never 'ad a visitor inside his room all that time, -exceptin' one lady.” - -“A lady?” I said. “His--” - -“Don't know, sir. Some says one thing, some says another. Kind o' a -hexotic, I calls 'im, sir. Miss Titch she thinks he's 'ad a affair -of the 'eart; I think he booses same as a old pal o' mine what kept a -chemist's shop in Stepney used to. My friend he locks 'isself up in the -back room and puts away morphine and nicotine and strychnine and them -things by the 'alf-pint. 'Ole days at it he were, sir, and all the time -the small boys a-sneak-ing cough-drops, and tooth-brushes for to make -feathers for their 'ats when playin' at soldiers, and when the doctor he -sees 'im at last he says nothing but a hepileptic 'ome wouldn't do 'im -any good.” - -“You think, then, the General drinks?” I said. - -“Either that or makes counterfeit coins, sir,” said Halfred, with an -ominous shake of his bullet head. - -I was quite aware of my Halfred's partiality for the melodramatic. -Nevertheless there was certainly something unusual in my neighbor's -conduct that excited my interest considerably. For I confess I am one of -those who are apt to be blind towards the mysteries of the obvious and -the miracles of every day, and to revel in the romance of the singular. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter X - - -“_Seek you wine or seek you maid at the journey's end?_ - -_Give to me at every stage the welcome of a friend!_” - ---Cyd. - - -[Illustration: 9106] - -O not think that all this time I had lost sight of my new friends, the -fair-haired Dick Shafthead and the genial Teddy Lumme. On the contrary, -we had had more than one merry night together, and exchanged not a few -confidences. Very soon after I was settled, Dick had come round to -my rooms and criticised everything, from Halfred to the curtains. His -tastes were a trifle too austere to altogether appreciate these latter -rather sumptuous hangings. - -“They'll do for waistcoats if you ever go on the music-hall stage,” he -observed, sardonically. “That's why you got 'em, perhaps?” - -“The very reason, my friend,” I replied. “I cannot afford to get both -new waistcoats and new curtains; just as I am compelled to employ the -same person to get me out of jail and criticise my furniture.” - -Dick laughed. - -“You are too witty, mossyour.” (He came as near the pronunciation of my -title as that.) “You should write some of these things down before you -forget 'em.” - -“For the French,” I retorted, “that precaution is unnecessary.” - -For Halfred, I am sorry to say, he did not at first show that -appreciation I had expected. - -“Your 'bus-man,” was the epithet he applied behind his back; though I am -bound to say his good-breeding made him so polite that Halfred, on his -side, conceived the highest opinion of my friend. - -“A real gentleman, Mr. Shafthead is, sir,” he confided to me. “What I -calls a hunmistakable toff. He hasn't got no side on, and he speaks to -one man like as he would to another. In fact, sir, he reminds me of Lord -Haugustus I once seed at the Hadelphi; a nobleman what said, 'I treats -hevery fellow-Briton as a gentleman so long as Britannia rules the -waves and 'e behaves 'isself accordingly.'” - -This may seem exaggerated praise, but, indeed, it would be difficult to -exaggerate my dear Dick's virtues. Doubtless his faults are being placed -in the opposite page of a ledger kept somewhere with his name upon the -cover; but that is no business of mine. To paste in parallel columns -the virtues of our friends and the faults of ourselves, that may be -unpleasant, but it is necessary if we are to turn the search-light -inward. Certain weak spots we must not look at too closely if we are to -keep our self-respect; but, my faith! we can well give the most of our -humanity an airing now and then; also, if possible, a fumigating. It was -Dick Shafthead, more than any other, who took my failings for a walk -in the sunshine, and somehow or other they always returned a little -abashed. - -A very different person was his cousin Teddy Lumme, for whom, -by-the-way, I discovered Dick had a real regard carefully concealed -behind a most satirical attitude. Teddy was not clever--though shrewd -enough within strict limits; he was no moralist, no philosopher; _an -observer chiefly of the things least worth observing_--a performer -upon the tin-whistle of life. But, owing to his kindness of heart and -ingenuous disposition, he was wonderfully likable. - -His leisure moments were devoted, I believe, to the discharge of some -duty in the foreign office, though what precisely it was I could never, -even by the most ingenious cross-examination, discover. His father held -the respectable position of Bishop of Battersea; his mother was the -Honorable Mrs. Lumme. These excellent parents had a high regard for -Teddy, whom they considered likely to make his mark in the world. - -I was taken to the bishopric (sic), and discussed with the most -venerable Lumme, senior, many points of interest to a foreigner. - -Note of a conversation with Bishop of Battersea, taken down from memory -a few days after: _Myself_. “What is the difference between a High -Church and a Low Church?” - -_Bishop_. “A High Church has a high conception of its duties towards -mankind, religion, the apostolic succession, and the costume of its -clergymen. A Low Church has the opposite.” - -_Myself_. “Are you Low Church?” - -_Bishop_. “No.” - -_Myself_. “I understand that the conversion of the Pope is one of your -objects. Is that so?” _Bishop_. “Should the Pope approach us in a proper -spirit we should certainly be willing to admit him into our fold.” - -_Myself_. “Have you written many theological works?” - -_Bishop_. “I believe tea is ready.” - -Afterwards further discussion on tithes, doctrine, and the Thirty-nine -Articles, of which I forget the details. - -My friend Teddy did not live at the bishopric with his parents, but in -exceedingly well-appointed chambers near St. James Street. Here I met -various other young gentlemen of fortune and promise, who discussed -with me many questions of international interest--such as the price of -champagne in foreign hotels, the status of the music-hall artiste at -home and abroad, the best knot for the full-dress tie, and so forth. - -Dick Shafthead did not often appear in this company. - -“Can't afford their amusements, and can't be bothered with their -conversation,” he explained to me. “Look in and have a pipe this evening -if you're doing nothing else. If you want cigars, bring your own; I've -run out.” - -And, after all, learning to perform upon the briar-pipe in Dick's -society under the old roof of the Temple, applauding or disapproving of -our elders and our betters, had infinitely more charm to me than those -intellectual conclaves at his cousin's, for six nights in the week at -least. A different mood, a different friend. Sometimes one desires in a -companion congenial depravity; at others, more points of contact. - -This Temple where Dick lived is not a church, though there is a church -within it. It is one of those surprising secrets that London keeps and -shows you sometimes to reconcile you to her fogs. Out of the heart of -the traffic and the noise you turn through an ancient archway into -a rabbit warren of venerable and sober red buildings; each court and -passage tidy, sedate, and, if I may say it of a personage of brick, -thoughtful and kindly disposed to its inhabitants. This is the Temple, -once the home of the Knight Templars, now of English law. In one -court Dick shared with a friend an austerely furnished office where he -received such work as the solicitors sent him, and was ready to receive -more. But it was on the top flight of another staircase in another -court-yard that he kept his household gods. - -He had come there, as I have said before, during a period of financial -depression, and there he had stayed ever since. I do not wonder at -it; though, to be sure, I think I should find it rather solitary of an -evening, when the offices emptied, silence fell upon the stairs and -the quadrangles, and there were only left in the whole vast warren the -sprinkling of permanent inhabitants who dwelt under the slates. Yet -there was I know not quite what about those old rooms, an aroma of the -past, a link with romance, that made them lovable. The panelled walls, -the undulating floors, the odd angle which held the fireplace, the beam -across the ceiling, the old furniture to match these, all had character; -and to what but character do we link sentiment? - -Also the prospect from the windows was delightful; an open court, a few -trees, the angles of other ancient buildings, a glimpse of green turf -in a garden, a peep of more stems and branches, with the Thames beyond. -Yes, it was quite the neighborhood for a romantic episode to happen. And -one day, as you shall hear in time, it happened. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XI - - -“_And then I came to another castle where lived a giant whose name was -John Bull._” - ---Maundeville (adapted). - - -[Illustration: 9112] - -“O you dance?” asked Teddy. - -“All night, if you will play to me,” I replied. - -“Ride?” said he. - -“On a horse? Yes, my friend, I can even ride a horse.” - -“Well, then, I say, d'you care to come to a ball at Seneschal Court, -the Trevor-Hudson's place; meet next day, and that sort of thing? Dick -and I are going. We'll be there about a week.” - -“But I do not know the--the very excellent people you have named.” - -“Oh, that's all right,” said Teddy. “They want a man or two. So few men -dance nowadays, don't you know. I keep it up myself a little; girls get -sick if I don't hop round with 'em now and then. Hullo, I see you've got -a card from my mater, for the twenty-ninth. Don't go, whatever you do. -Sure to be dull. The mater's shows always are. What did you think of -that girl the other night? Ha, ha! Told you so; I know all about women. -What's this book you're reading? French, by Jove! Pretty stiff, isn't -it? Oh, o' course you are French, aren't you? That makes a difference, I -suppose. Well, then, you'll come with us. Thursday, first. I'll let you -know the train.” - -“May I bring my Halfred?” I inquired. - -“Rather. Looks well to have a man with you. I'd bring mine, only he -makes a fuss if he can't have a bedroom looking south, and one can't -insist on people giving him that. Au revoir, mos-soo.” - -This was on Monday, so I had but little time for preparation. - -Halfred was at once taken into consultation. - -“I am going to hunt,” I said; “also to a ball; and you are coming with -me. Prepare me for the ballroom and the chase. What do I require beyond -the things I already have?” - -“A pink coat and a 'ard 'at, sir,” said he, with great confidence. -“Likewise top-boots and white gloves for to dance in, not forgettin' a -pair o' spurs and a whip.” - -“I shall get the hat, the coat, and the boots. Gloves I have already. -You will buy me the spurs and the whip. By-the-way, have you ever -hunted, Halfred?” - -“Not exactly 'unted myself, sir,” said he, “but I've seed the 'unt go -by, and knowed a lot o' 'unting-men. Then, bein' connected with hosses -so much myself I've naterally took a hinterest in the turf and the -racin'-stable.” - -[Illustration: 0114] - -“You are a judge of horses?” I asked. - -“Well, sir, I am generally considered to know something about 'em. -In fact, sir, Mr. Widdup--that's the gentleman what give me the -testimonial--he's said to me more nor once, 'Halfred,' says he, 'what -you don't know about these 'ere hanimals would go into a pill-box -comfertable.'” - -“Good,” I said. “Find me two hunters that I can hire for a week.” - -The little man looked me up and down with a discriminating eye. - -“Something that can carry a bit o' weight, sir, and stand a lot o' 'ard -riding; that's what you need, sir.” - -Now, I am not heavy, nor had circumstances hitherto given me the -opportunity of riding excessively hard, but the notion that I was indeed -a gigantic Nimrod tempted my fancy, and I am ashamed to confess that I -fell. - -[Illustration: 0115] - -“Yes,” I said, “that is exactly what I require.” - -“Leave it to me, sir,” he assured me, with great confidence. “I'll make -hall the arrangements.” My mind was now easy, and for the two following -days I studied all the English novels treating of field sports, and the -articles on hunting in the encyclopaedias and almanacs, so that when -Thursday arrived and I met my friends at the station I felt myself -qualified to take part with some assurance in their arguments on the -chase. We are a receptive race, we French, and the few accomplishments -we have not actually created we can at least quickly comprehend and -master. - -Next door to us, in a second-class compartment, Halfred was travelling, -and attached to our train was the horse-box containing the two hunters -he had engaged. I had had one look at these, and certainly there seemed -to be no lack of bone and muscle. - -“Mr. Widdup and me 'ired 'em, sir,” said Halfred, “from a particular -friend o' ours what can be trusted. Jumps like fleas, they do, he says, -and 'as been known to run for sixty-five miles without stoppin' more'n -once or twice for a drink. 'Ard in the mouth and 'igh in the temper, -says he, but the very thing for a gentleman in good 'ealth what doesn't -'unt regular and likes 'is money's worth when he does.” - -“You have exactly described me,” I replied. - -But if I had the advantage over my two friends in the suite I was taking -with me, Teddy Lumme certainly led the way in conversation. He was -vastly impressed with the importance of our party (a sentiment he -succeeded in communicating to the guard and the other officials); also -with the respectability of the function we were going to attend, and -with the inferiority of other travellers on that railway. This air of -triumphal progress or coronation procession was still further increased -by the indefatigable attentions of Halfred, who at every station ran to -our carriage door, touched his hat, and made inquiries concerning our -comfort and safety; so that more than once a loyal cheer was raised as -the train steamed out again, and Dick even declared that at an important -junction he perceived the Lord Alayor's daughter approaching with -a basket of flowers. Unfortunately, however, she did not reach our -carriage in time. - -[Illustration: 0117] - -The glories of this pageant he was partaking in filled Teddy's mind -with reminiscences of other scenes where he had played an equally -distinguished part. - -“I remember one day with the Quorn last year,” he remarked. “Devil of -a run we had; seventy-five minutes without a check. When we'd killed, I -said to a man, 'Got anything to drink?' It was Pluckham. You know Lord -Pluckham, Dick?” - -“His bankruptcy case went through our chambers,” said Dick, dryly. - -“Dashed hard lines that was,” said Teddy. “He's a good chap, is -Pluckham; kept the best whiskey in England. By Jove! I never had a drink -like that. A man needs one after riding with the Quorn.” - -And Teddy puffed his cigar and chewed the cud of that proud moment. - -“Where are our horses, Teddy?” asked Dick. “Coming down by a special -train?” - -“Oh, they are mounting me,” said Teddy. “Trevor-Hudson always keeps a -couple of his best for me. What are you doing?” - -“Following on a bicycle,” replied Dick. “My five grooms and six horses -haven't turned up.” - -“My dear Shafthead,” said I, “I shall lend you one of mine.” - -“Many thanks,” he answered, with gratitude, no doubt, but with less -enthusiasm than I should have expected. “Unfortunately I've seen 'em.” - -“And do you not care to ride them?” I asked, with some disappointment, I -confess. - -“Not alone,” said Dick. “If you'll lend me Halfred to sit behind and -keep the beast steady I don't mind trying.” - -“Very well,” I said, with a shrug. - -This strain of a brutality that is peculiarly British occasionally -disfigures my dear Dick. Yet I continue to love him--judge, then, of his -virtues. - -“Are they good fencers?” asked Lumme. - -“I have not yet seen them with the foils,” I replied, smiling politely -at what seemed a foolish joke. - -“I mean,” said he, “do they take their jumps well?” - -“Pardon,” I laughed. “Yes, I am told they are excellent--if the wall is -not too high. We shall not find them more than six feet?” - -But I was assured that obstacles of more than this elevation would not -be met frequently. - -“Do they take water all right?” asked the inquisitive Teddy again. - -“Both that and corn,” I replied. “But Halfred will attend to these -matters.” - -English humor is peculiar. I had not meant to make a jest, yet I was -applauded for this simple answer. - -“Tell me what to look for in my hosts,” I said to Dick, presently. - -“Money and money's worth,” he replied. - -“What we call the nouveau riche?” I asked. - -“On the contrary, what is called a long pedigree, nowadays--two -generations of squires, two of captains of industry (I think that is the -proper term), and before that the imagination of the Herald's Office. -There is also a pretty daughter--isn't there, Teddy?” - -“Quite a nice little thing,” said Lumme, graciously. - -“I thought you rather fancied her.” - -“I'm off women at present,” the venerable _roué_ declared. - -Dick's grin at hearing this sentiment was more eloquent than any -comment. - -But now we had reached our destination. Halfred and a very stately -footman, assisted by the station-master, the ticket-collector, and all -the porters, transferred our luggage to a handsome private omnibus; -then, Halfred having arranged that the horses should be taken to stables -in the village (since my host's were full), we all bowled off between -the hedge-rows. - -It was a beautiful October evening, still clear overhead and red in the -west; the plumage of the trees had just begun to turn a russet brown; -the air was very fresh after the streets of London; our horses rattled -at a most exhilarating pace. - -“My faith,” I exclaimed, “this is next to heaven! I shall be buried in -the country.” - -“Those hunters of yours ought to manage it for you,” observed Dick. - -Yet I forgave him again. - -We turned through an imposing gateway, and now we were in a wide and -charming English park. Undulating turf and stately trees spread all -round us and ended only in the dusk of the evening; a herd of deer -galloped from our path; rooks cawed in the branches overhead; a gorgeous -pheasant ran for shelter towards a thicket. Then, on one side, came -an ivy-covered wall over whose top high, dark evergreens stood up like -Ethiopian giants. Evidently these were the gardens, and in a moment more -we were before the house itself. - -As I went from the carriage to the door I had just time and light to -see that it was a very great mansion, not old, apparently, but tempered -enough by time to inspire a kindly feeling of respect. A high tower rose -over the door, and along the front, on either side, creepers climbed -between the windows, and these gave an impression at once of stateliness -and home. - -By the aid of two servants, who were nearly as tall as the tower, we -were led first through an ample vestibule adorned with a warlike array -of spears. These, I was informed, belonged to the body-guard of my host -when he was high sheriff of his county, and this explanation, though -it took from them the romance of antiquity, gave me, nevertheless, a -pleasanter sensation than if they had been brandished at Flodden. They -were a relic not of a dead but a living feudalism, a symbol that a -sovereign still ruled this land. And this reminded me of the reason -I was here and the cause for which I still hoped to fight; and for a -moment it saddened me. - -But again I commit the crime of being serious; also the still less -pardonable offence of leaving my two friends standing outside the doors -of the hall. - -Hastily I rejoin them; the doors open, a buzz of talk within suddenly -subsides, and we march across the hall in single file to greet our host -and hostess. What I see during this brief procession is a wide and high -room, a gallery running round it, a great fireplace at the farther end, -and a company of nearly twenty people sitting or standing near the fire -and engaged in the consumption of tea and the English crumpet. - -I am presented, received in a very off-hand fashion, told to help -myself to tea and crumpet, and then left to my own devices. Lumme and -Shafthead each find an acquaintance to speak to, my host and hostess -turn to their other guests, and, with melted butter oozing from my -crumpet into my tea, I do my best to appear oblivious of the glances -which I feel are being directed at me. I look irresolutely towards my -hostess. She is faded, affected, and talkative; but her talk is not for -me, and, in fact, she has already turned her back. And my host? He is -indeed looking at me fixedly out of a somewhat bloodshot eye, while he -stuffs tea-cake into a capacious mouth; but when I meet his gaze, he -averts his eyes. A cheerful couple; a kindly reception! “What does it -mean?” - -I ask myself. “Has Lumme exceeded his powers in bringing me here?” I -remember that at his instigation Mrs. Trevor-Hudson sent me a brief note -of invitation, but possibly she repented afterwards. Or is my appearance -so unpleasant? In France, I tell myself, it was not generally considered -repulsive. In fact, I can console myself with several instances to the -contrary but possibly English standards of taste are different. - -At last I venture to accost a gentleman who, at the moment, is also -silent. - -“Have you also come from London?” I ask. - -“I? No. Live near here,” he says, and turns to resume his conversation -with a lady. - -I am seriously thinking of taking my departure before there is any -active outbreak of hostilities, when I see a stout gentleman, with a -very red face, approaching me from the farther side of the fireplace. I -have noticed him staring at me with, it seemed, undisguised animosity, -and I am preparing the retort with which I shall answer his request -to immediately leave the house, when he remarks, in a bluff, cheerful -voice, as he advances: “Bringin' your horses, I hear.” - -“I am, sir,” I reply, in great surprise. - -“Lumme was tellin' me,” he adds, genially. “Ever hunted this country -before?” - -And in a moment I find myself engaged in a friendly conversation, which -is as suddenly interrupted by a very beautifully dressed apparition -with a very long mustache, who calls my short friend “Sir Henry,” and -consults him about an accident that has befallen his horse. But I began -to see the theory of this reception. It is an Englishman's idea of -making you--and himself--feel at home. - -[Illustration: 0124] - -You eat as much cake as you please, talk to anybody you please, remain -silent as long as you please, leave the company if you please and smoke -a pipe, and you are not interfered with by any one while doing these -things. To introduce you to somebody might bore you; you may not be a -conversationalist, and may prefer to stand and stare like a surfeited -ox. Well, if such are your tastes it would be interfering with the -liberty of the subject to cross them. What was the use of King John -signing the Magna Charta if an Englishman finds himself compelled to be -agreeable? - -This idea having dawned upon me and my courage returned, I cast my eyes -round the company, and selecting the prettiest girl made straight at -her. She received me with a smiling eye and the most delightful manner -possible, and as she talked and I looked more closely at her, I saw that -she was even fairer than I had thought. - -Picture a slim figure, rather under middle height, a bright eye that -sparkled as though there was dew upon it, piquant little features that -all joined in a frequent and quite irresistible smile; and, finally, -dress this dainty demoiselle in the most fascinating costume you can -imagine. Need it be said that I was soon emboldened to talk quite -frankly and presently to ask her who some of the company were? “Sir -Henry” turned out to be Sir Henry Horley, a prosperous baronet, who -scarcely ever left the saddle; the gentleman with the long mustache, to -be Lord Thane, an elder son with political aspirations; while the man -I had first accosted was no less a person than Mr. H. Y. Tonks, the -celebrated cricketer. - -“And now will you point out to me Miss Trevor-Hudson?” I asked. “I hear -she is very beautiful.” - -“Who told you that?” she inquired, with a more charming smile than ever. - -“Her admirers,” I answered. - -The girl raised her eyebrows, shot me the archest glance in the world, -and pointing her finger to her own breast, said, simply: - -“There she is.” - -I said to myself that though my friend Teddy Lumme was “off women,” I, -at any rate, was not. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XII - - -“_Our language is needlessly complicated. Why, for instance, have two -such words as 'woman' and 'discord,' when one would serve?_” - ---La Rabide. - - -[Illustration: 9127] - -RESENTLY the men retired to smoke, and for an hour or two I had to tear -myself from the smiles of Miss Trevor-Hudson. - -The smoking-room opened into the billiard-room, and some played pool -while the rest of us sat about the fire and discussed agriculture, the -preservation of pheasants, and, principally, horses, hounds, and foxes. -A short fragment will show you the standard of eloquence to which we -attained. It is founded, I admit, more on imagination than memory, but -is sufficiently accurate for the purpose of illustration. As to who the -different speakers were you can please your fancy. - -_First Sportsman._ “Are your turnips large?” - -_Second Sportsman_. “Not so devilish bad. Did you go to the meet on -Tuesday?” - -_First Sportsman_. “Yes, and I noticed Charley Tootle there.” - -_Third Sportsman_. “Ridin' his bay horse or his black?” - -_First Sportsman._ “The bay.” - -_Fourth Sportsman_. “Oats make better feeding.” - -_Second Sportsman_. “My man prefers straw.” - -_First Sportsman_. “Did you fish this summer?” - -_Third Sportsman._ “No; I shot buffaloes instead.” - -_First Sportsman_. “Where--Kamchatka or Japan?” - -_Third Sportsman_. “Japan. Kamchatka's getting overshot.” - -_Fifth Sportsman._ “Do you supply your pheasants with warm water?” - -_Second Sportsman._ “I am having it laid on.” - -_Fifth Sportsman_. “What system do you use?” - -_Second Sportsman_. “Two-inch pipes attached by a rotatory tap to the -conservatory cistern.” - -_Fifth Sportsman_. “Sounds a devilish good notion.” - -_First Sportsman_. “Now, let me tell you my experience of those -self-lengthening stirrups.” - -_Fifth Sportsman._ “Do you supply your pheasants with warm water?” - -_Second Sportsman._ “I am having it laid on.” - -_Fifth Sportsman_. “What system do you use?” - -_Second Sportsman_. “Two-inch pipes attached by a rotatory tap to the -conservatory cistern.” - -_Fifth Sportsman_. “Sounds a devilish good notion.” - -_First Sportsman_. “Now, let me tell you my experience of those self- -lengthening stirrups.” - -And so on till the booming of a gong summoned us to dress for dinner. - -“Well,” said Dick, as we went to our rooms, “you looked as though your -mind was being improved.” - -“It is trying to become adjusted,” I replied. - -On our way we passed along the gallery overlooking the hall, and -suddenly I was struck by the contrast between this house and its -inhabitants: on the one hand the splendid proportions and dignity of -this great hall, dark under the oak beams of the roof, fire-light and -lamp-light falling below upon polished floor and carpets of the East; -the library lined with what was best in English literature, the walls -with the worthiest in English art; on the other, my heavy-eyed host full -of port and prejudices, and as meshed about by unimaginative limitations -as any strawberry-bed. Possibly I am too foreign, and only see the -surface, but then how is one to suspect a gold-mine beneath a vegetable -garden? - -At dinner I found myself seated between Lady Thane and Miss Rosalie -Horley. Lady Thane, wife to the nobleman with the long mustache, had an -attractive face, but took herself seriously. In man this is dangerous, -in woman fatal. I turned to my other neighbor and partially obtained my -consolation there. She was young, highly colored, hearty, and ingenuous, -and proved so appreciative a listener as nearly to suffocate herself -with an oyster-paté when I told her how I had burgled Fisher. The -remainder of my consolation I obtained from the prospect, directly -opposite, of Miss Trevor-Hudson. She was sitting next to Teddy Lumme, -and if it had not been for his express declaration to the contrary I -should have said he was far from insusceptible to her charms. Yet, since -I knew his real sentiments, I did not hesitate to distract her glance -when possible. - -After dinner a great bustling among the ladies, a great putting on of -overcoats and lighting of cigars among the men, and then we all embarked -in an immense omnibus and clattered off to the ball. This dance was -being held in the county town some miles away, so that for more than -half an hour I sat between Dick and Teddy on a seat behind the driver's, -my cigar between my teeth, a very excellent dinner beneath my overcoat, -and my heart as light as a sparrow's. On either side the rays of our -lamps danced like fire-flies along the woods and hedge-rows, but my -fancy seemed to run still faster than these meteor companions, and -already I pictured myself claiming six dances from Miss Trevor-Hudson. - -But now other lights began to appear, twinkling through trees before us, -and presently we were clattering up the high street of the market-town. -Other carriages were already congregated about the assembly rooms at the -Checkered Boar, a crowd of spectators had gathered before the door -to stare at visions of lace and jewelry, the strains of the band came -through an open window, and altogether there was an air of revelry that -I suppose only visited the little borough once a year. Inside the doors, -waiters with shining heads and ruddy faces waved us on up and down -stairs and along passages, where, at intervals, we met other guests as -resplendent as ourselves, till at last we reached the ballroom itself. -This was a long, low room with a shining floor, an old-fashioned -wall-paper decorated with a pattern of pink roses, and a great blaze of -candles to light it up. It was evident that many generations of squires -must have danced beneath those candles and between the rose-covered -walls, and this suggestion of old-worldness had a singularly pleasant -flavor. - -In a recess about the middle of the room the orchestra were tuning -up for another waltz; at one end the more important families were -assembling; at the other, the lesser. Need I say that we joined the -former group? - -In English country dances it usually is the custom to have programmes on -which you write the names of your partners for the evening. I now looked -round to secure one particular partner, but she was not to be seen. -The waltz had begun; I scanned the dancers. There was Shafthead tearing -round with Miss Horley, his athletic figure moving well, his good -features lit by a smile he could assume most agreeably when on his -best behavior. There was the stout Sir Henry revolving with the more -deliberate pomp of sixty summers. But where were the bright eyes? -Suddenly I spied the skirt of a light-blue dress through the opening -of a doorway. I rushed for it, and there, out in the passage, was the -misogamist Lumme evidently entreating Miss Trevor-Hudson for more dances -than she was willing to surrender. For her sake this must be stopped. - -“I have come to make a modest request,” I said. “Will you give me a -dance--or possibly two?” - -With the sweetest air she took her programme from the disconcerted, and -I do not think very amiable, Teddy, and handed it to me. - -“I have taken three, seven, and fourteen,” I said, giving it back to -her. - -“Fourteen is mine,” cried Teddy. - -“Not now, I said, smiling. - -“I had booked it,” said he. - -“Your name was not there,” I replied. “And now, Miss Hudson, if you are -not dancing this dance will you finish it with me?” - -She took my arm, and the baffled despiser of women was left in the -passage. - -This may sound hard treatment to be dealt out to a friend, and, indeed, -I fear that though outwardly calm, and even polite to exaggeration, my -indignation had somewhat run away with me. Had I any excuse? Yes; two -eyes that, as I have said, were bright as the dew, and a smile not to be -resisted. - -She danced divinely, she let me clasp her hand tenderly yet firmly, and -she smiled at me when she was dancing with others. I noticed once or -twice when we danced together that Lumme also smiled at her, but I was -convinced she did not reply to this. In fact, his whole conduct seemed -to me merely presumptuous and impertinent. How mine seemed to him I -cannot tell you. - -[Illustration: 0133] - -He had secured the advantage of engaging several dances before I had -time to interfere, and also possessed one other--a scarlet evening-coat, -the uniform of the hunt. But I glanced in the mirror, and said to myself -that I did not grudge him this adornment, while as for my fewer number -of dances, I found my partner quite willing to allow me others to which -I was not legally entitled. In this way I obtained number thirteen, to -the detriment of Mr. Tonks, and was just prepared to embark upon number -fourteen when Lumme approached us with an air I did not approve of. - -“This is my dance,” he said, in a manner inexcusable in the presence of -a lady. - -“Pardon,” I replied. “It is mine.” - -Miss Hudson looked from one to the other of us with a delightfully -perplexed expression, but, I fear, with a little wickedness in her brown -eye. - -“What am I to do?” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. - -“It is my dance,” repeated Teddy, glaring fixedly at me. - -I shrugged my shoulders, smiled, and offered her my arm to lead her -away. - -“I am sorry, Mr. Lumme,” said the cause of this strife, sweetly, “but I -am afraid Mr. D'Haricot's name is on my programme.” - -Teddy made a tragic bow that would have done credit to a dyspeptic frog, -and I danced off with my prize. At the end of the waltz he came up to me -with a carefully concocted sneer. - -“You know how to sneak dances, moshyour,” he observed. “Do you do -everything else as well?” - -I kept my temper and replied, suavely, “Yes, I shoot tolerably with the -pistol, and can use the foils.” - -“Like your cab-horses?” sneered Teddy, taking no notice, however, of the -implied invitation to console himself if aggrieved. “I'm keen to see how -long you stick on top of those beasts.” - -“Good, my friend,” I replied, “I take that as a challenge to ride a -race. We shall see to-morrow who first catches the fox!” - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XIII - - -“_With his horse and his hounds in the morning!_” - ---English Ballad. - - -[Illustration: 9136] - -HEN I awoke next morning, my first thoughts were of a pair of brown -eyes, dainty features that smiled up at me, and a voice that whispered -as we danced for the last time together, “No, I shall not forget you -when you are gone.” - -Then, quickly, I remembered the sport before me, and the challenge to -ride to the death with the rival who had crossed my path. - -“Halfred,” I said. - -The little man looked up from the pile of clothes he was folding in the -early morning light, and stopped the gentle hissing that accompanied, -and doubtless lightened, every task. - -“Fasten my spurs on firmly,” I said. “I shall ride hard to-day.” - -He cannot have noticed the grave note in my voice, for he replied, in -his customary cheerful fashion, “If hevervthing sticks on as well as the -spurs, sir, you won't 'ave nothin' to complain of.” - -“I shall ride very hard, Halfred.” - -“'Arder nor usual, sir?” he asked, with a look of greater interest. - -[Illustration: 0137] - -“Vastly, immeasurably!” - -“What's hup, sir?” he exclaimed, in some concern now. - -“I have made a little bet with Mr. Lumme,” I answered in a serious -voice, “a small wager that I shall be the first to catch the fox. If -you can make a suggestion that may help me to win, I shall be happy to -listen to it.” - -“Catch the fox, sir?” he repeated, thoughtfully, scratching his head. -“Well, sir, it seems to me there's nothin' for it but starting hoff -first and not lettin' 'im catch you up. I 'aven't 'unted myself, sir, -but I've 'eard tell as 'ow a sharp gent sometimes spots the fox afore -any of the hothers. That's 'ow to do it, in my opinion.” - -I thought this over and the scheme seemed excellent. - -“We shall arrange it thus,” I said: “You will mount one horse and I the -other. We shall ride together and look for the fox.” - -Conceive of my servant's delight. I do not believe that if I had offered -him a hundred pounds he would have felt so much joy. - -I dressed myself with the most scrupulous accuracy, for I was resolved -that nothing about me should suggest the novice. My pink coat fitted to -within half a little wrinkle in an inconspicuous place, my breeches were -a miracle of sartorial art, the reflection from my top-boots perceptibly -lightened the room. No one at the breakfast-table cut more dash. I had -secured a seat beside Miss Trevor-Hudson and we jested together with -a friendliness that must have disturbed Lumme, for he watched us -furtively, with a dark look on his face, and never addressed a word to a -soul all the time. - -“I shall expect you to give me a lead to-day,” she said to me. - -“Are you well mounted?” I asked. - -“I am riding my favorite gray.” - -“Ride hard, then,” I said, loud enough for Lumme to hear me. “The lead -I give will be a fast one!” Before breakfast was over we had been -joined by guest after guest who had come for the meet. Outside the house -carriages and dog-carts, spectators on foot, grooms with horses, and -sportsmen who had already breakfasted were assembled in dozens, and the -crowd was growing greater every moment. I adjusted my shining hat upon -my head and went out to look for Halfred. There he was, the centre -evidently of considerable interest and admiration, perched high upon -one of the gigantic and noble quadrupeds, and grasping the other by the -reins. His livery of deep-plum color, relieved by yellow cording, easily -distinguished him from all other grooms, while my two steeds appeared -scarcely to be able to restrain their generous impatience, for -it required three villagers at the head of each to control their -exhilaration. - -“I congratulate you,” I said to my servant. “The _tout ensemble_ is -excellent.” - -At that moment his mount began to plunge like a ship at sea, and the -little man went up and down at such a rate that he could only gasp: - -“'Old 'im, you there chaw-bacons! 'Old 'im tight! 'E won't 'urt you!” - -In response to this petition the villagers leaped out of range and -uttered incomprehensible sounds, much to my amusement. This, however, -was quickly changed to concern when I observed my own steed suddenly -stand upon end and flourish his fore-legs like a heraldic emblem. - -“You have overfed them with oats,” I said to Halfred, severely. - -[Illustration: 0140] - -“Oats be--” he began, and then pitched on to the mane, “oats be--” and -here he just clutched the saddle in time to save himself from retiring -over the tail--“oats be blowed!” - -“It ain't oats that's the matter with 'em,” said a bluff voice behind -me. - -I turned and saw Sir Henry looking with an experienced eye at this -performance. - -“What is it?” I inquired. - -“Vice,” said he. “I know that fiddle-headed brute well; no mistakin' -him. It's the beast that broke poor Oswald's neck last season. His widow -sold him to a dealer at Rugby for fifteen pounds, and, by Jove! here he -is again, just waitin' for a chance to break yours!” - -He turned his critical eye to Halfred's refractory steed. - -“And I think I remember that dancin' stallion, too,” he added, grimly. -“Gad! you'll have some fun to-day, monsieur!” - -This was cheerful, but there was no getting out of it now. Indeed, the -huntsman and the pack were already leading the way to the first covert -and everybody was on the move behind them. I mounted my homicide during -one of its calmer intervals, the villagers bolted out of the way, and in -a moment we were clearing a course through the throng like a charge of -cavalry. - -“Steady there, steady!” bawled the master of the hunt. “Keep back, will -you?” - -With some difficulty I managed to take my mount plunging and sidling out -to where Halfred was galloping in circles at a little distance from the -rest of the field. - -“Where are the hounds?” I cried. “Where is the fox?” - -“In among them trees,” replied Halfred, as we galloped together towards -the master. - -“Let us go after them!” I exclaimed. “Lumme waits behind with the -others. Now is our chance!” - -“Come on, sir!” said Halfred, and we dashed past the master at a pace -that scarcely gave us time to hear the encouraging cry with which he -greeted us. - -The wood was small, but the trees were densely packed, and it was only -by the most miraculous good luck, aided also by skilful management, that -we avoided injury from the branches. Somewhere before us we could -hear the baying of the hounds, and we directed our course accordingly. -Suddenly there arose a louder clamor and we caught a glimpse of white -and tan forms leaping towards us. But we scarcely noticed these, for -at that same instant we had espied a small, brown animal slipping away -almost under our horses' feet. - -“The fox!” cried Halfred. - -“The fox!” I shouted, bending forward and aiming a blow at it with my -whip. - -With a loud cheer we turned and burst through the covert in hot pursuit, -and, easily out-distancing the 'hounds, broke into the open with nothing -before us but Reynard himself. Figure to yourself the sensation! - -[Illustration: 0143] - -Ah, that I could inoculate you with some potent fluid that should set -your blood on fire and make you feel the intoxication of that chase as -you read my poor, bald words! Over a fence we went and descended on the -other side, myself hatless, Halfred no longer perched upon the saddle, -but clinging manfully to the more forward portions of his steed. Then, -through a wide field of grass we tore. This field was lined all down -the farther side by a hedge of thorns quite forty feet high, which the -English call a “bulrush.” At one corner I observed a gate, and having -never before charged such a barrier, I endeavored to direct my horse -towards this. But no! He had seen the fox go through the hedge, and I -believe he was inspired by as eager a desire to catch it as I was -myself. I shut my eyes, I lowered my head, I felt my cheek torn by -something sharp and heard a great crash of breaking branches, and then, -behold! I was on the farther side! My spurs had instinctively been -driven harder into my horse's flank, and though I had long since dropped -my whip, they proved sufficient to encourage him to still greater -exertions. - -Finding that he was capable of directing his course unassisted, and -perceiving also that he had taken the bit so firmly between his teeth -as to preclude the possibility of my guiding him with any certainty, I -discarded the reins (which of course were now unnecessary), and confined -my attention to seeing that he should not be hampered by my slipping -on my saddle. One brief glance over my shoulder showed me his stable -companion following hard, in spite of the inconvenience of having to -support his rider up on his neck, and racing alongside came the foremost -hounds. Behind the pack were scattered in a long procession pink coats -and galloping horses, dark habits and more galloping horses. I tried to -pick out my rival, but at that instant my horse rose to another fence -and my attention was distracted. - -Another field, this time ploughed, and a stiffer job now for my good -horse. Yet he would certainly have overtaken our quarry in a few minutes -longer had he selected that part of the next fence I wished him to jump. -But, alas! he must take it at its highest, and the ploughed field had -proved too exhausting. We rose, there was a crash, and I have a dim -recollection of wondering on which portion of my frame I should fall. - -Then I knew no more till I found myself in the arms of the faithful -Halfred, with neither horse, hounds, fox, nor huntsmen in sight. - -“Did you catch it?” I asked. - -“No, sir,” said he, “but I give it a rare fright.” - -But I had scarcely heard these consoling words before I swooned again. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XIV - - -“_You feel yourself insulted? That is fortunate, for otherwise I should -have been compelled to!_” - ---Hercule d'Enville. - - -[Illustration: 9145] - -ICTURE me now, stretched upon a sofa in the very charming morning-room of -Seneschal Court, a little bruised, a little shaken still, but making a -quick progress towards recovery. Exasperating, no doubt, to be inactive -and an invalid when others are well and spending the day in hunting and -shooting, but I had two consolations. First of all, Lumme had not beaten -me. He, too, had been dismounted a few fields farther on, and though he -had ridden farthest, yet I had gone fastest, and could fairly claim to -have at least divided the honors. But consolation number two would, I -think, have atoned even in the absence of consolation number one. In two -words, this comfort was my nurse. Yes, you can picture Amy Trevor-Hudson -sitting by the side of that sofa, intent upon a piece of fancy-work that -progresses at the rate of six stitches a day, yet not so intent as to be -unable to converse with her guest and patient. - -“You are really feeling better to-day?” she asks, with that sparkling -glance of her brown eyes that accompanies every word, however trivial. - -“Thank you; I have eaten two eggs and a plate of bacon for breakfast, -and should doubtless be looking forward now to lunch if my thoughts were -not so much more pleasantly employed.” - -“Are you thinking, then, that you will soon be well enough to go away?” - -“I am thinking,” I reply, “that for some days I shall still be invalid -enough to lie here and talk to you.” - -She does not look up at this, but I can see a charming smile steal over -her face and stay there while I look at her. - -“Who did you say these things to last?” she inquires, presently, still -looking at her work. - -“What things? That I am fond of luncheon--or that I am fond of you?” - -“I meant,” she replies, looking at me this time with the archest glance, -“what girl did you last tell that you were fond of her?” - -Now, honestly, I cannot answer this question off-hand with accuracy. I -should have to think, and that is not good for an invalid. - -“I cannot tell you, because I do not remember her.” I reply. - -She puts a wrong construction on this--as I had anticipated. - -“I don't believe you,” she says. “I am sure you must have said these -things before.” - -“If you think my words are false, how can I help myself?” I ask, with -the air of one impaled upon an ignited stake, yet resigned to this -position. “I dare not dispute with you, even to save my character, for -fear you become angry and leave me.” - -She smiles again, gives me another dazzling glance, and then, with the -elusiveness of woman, turns the subject to this wonderful piece of work -that she is doing. - -“What do you think of this flower?” she asks. - -To obtain the critical reply she desires entails her coming to the side -of the couch and holding one edge of the work while I hold the other. -Then I endeavor to hold both edges and somehow find myself holding her -hand as well. It happens so naturally that she takes no notice of this -occurrence but stands there smiling down at me and talking of this -flower while I look up at her face and talk also of the flower. In fact, -she seems first conscious of that chance encounter of hands when a step -is heard in the passage. Then, indeed, she withdraws to her seat and -the very faintest rise in color might be distinguished by one who had -acquired the habit of looking at her closely. - -It was Dick Shafthead who entered, in riding-breeches and top-boots. I -may say, by-the-way, that he had not been reduced to a bicycle. On the -contrary, he made an excellent display upon a horse for one who affected -to be too poor to ride. - -“My horse went lame,” he explained, “so I thought I'd come back and have -a look at the patient.” - -From his look I could sec that he was unprepared to find me already -provided with a nurse. Not that it was the first time she had been -here--but then I did not happen to have mentioned that to Dick. In a few -moments Amy left us and he looked with a quizzical smile first at the -door through which she had gone and then at me. - -“You take it turn about, I see,” he said. “I didn't know the arrangement -or I shouldn't have interrupted.” - -“I beg your pardon?” I replied. “Either my head is still somewhat -confused or I do not understand English as well as I thought.” - -“I imagined Teddy was having a walk-over,” said he, with a laugh. - -None are so quick of apprehension as the jealous. Already a dark -suspicion smote me. - -“Do you allude to Miss Trevor-Hudson?” I asked. - -“Who else?” - -“And you thought Teddy was having what you call a walk-over?” - -“I did,” said Dick. “But it is none of my business.” - -“It is my business,” I replied, “to see that this charming lady does -not have her name associated with a man she only regards as the merest -acquaintance.” - -“Has she told you that is how she looks on Teddy?” - -“She has.” - -Dick laughed outright. - -“What are your hours?” he asked. “When does Miss Hudson visit the -sick-bed?” - -“If you must know,” I replied, “she has had the kindness to visit me -every morning; also in the evening.” - -“Then Teddy has the afternoons,” said he. - -“But he has been hunting.” - -“He comes home after lunch, I notice,” laughed Dick. - -“I became angry. - -“Do you mean that Miss Hudson--” - -“Is an incorrigible flirt? Yes,” said he. - -“Shafthead, you go too far!” I cried. - -“My dear monsieur, I withdraw and I apologize,” he answers, with his -most disarming smile. “Have it as you wish. Only--don't let her make a -fool of you.” - -He turned and walked out of the room whistling, and I was left to -digest this dark thought. - -Certainly it was true that I did not see much of her in the afternoons, -but then, I argued, she had doubtless household duties. Her mother was -an affected woman who loved posing as an invalid and had stayed in her -room ever since the ball. Therefore she had to entertain the guests; -and, now I came to think of it, Lumme would naturally press his suit -whenever he saw a chance, and how could she protect herself? Certainly -she could never compare that ridiculous little man with--well, with any -one you please. It was absurd! I laughed at the thought. Yet I became -particularly anxious to see her again. - -[Illustration: 0150] - -In the evening she came for a few minutes to cheer my solitude. She -could not stay; yet she sat down. I must be very sensible; yet she -listened to my compliments with a smile. She was ravishing in her simple -dress of white, that cost, I should like to wager, some fabulous price -in Paris; she was charming; she was kind. Yes, she had been created to -be a temptation to man, like the diamonds in her hair; and she perfectly -understood her mission. Inevitably man must wish to play with her, to -caress her, to have her all to himself; and inevitably he must get into -that state when he is willing to pay any price for this possession. And -she was willing to make him--and not unwilling to make another pay also. -Indeed, I do not think she could conceivably have had too many admirers. - -But I did not criticise her thus philosophically that evening. Instead, -I said to her: - -“I was afraid I should not see you till to-morrow--and perhaps not -to-morrow.” - -“Not to-morrow?” she asked. “Are you going away, after all?” - -“I shall be here; but you?” - -“And I suppose I must visit my patient.” - -“But if Mr. Lumme does not go hunting--will you then have time to -spare?” - -She rose and said, as if offended, “I don't think you want to see me -very much.” - -Yet she did not go. On the contrary, she stood so close to me that I was -able to seize her hand and draw her towards me. - -“Ah, no!” I cried, “Give me my turn!” - -“Your turn?” she asked, drawing away a little. - -“Yes; what can I hope for but a brief turn? I am but one of your -admirers, and if you are kind to all--” - -I paused. She gave me a bright glance, a little smile that drove away -all prudence. - -“Amy!” I cried; “I have something to give you!” - -And I gave her--a kiss. - -She protested, but not very stoutly. - -[Illustration: 0152] - -“I have something else,” I said. And I was about to present her with a -very similar offering--indeed, I was almost in the act of presentation, -when she started from me with a cry of, “Let me go!” and before I could -detain her she had fled from the room. In her flight she passed a man -who was standing at the door, and it was he who spoke next. - -“You damned, scoundrelly frog-eater!” he remarked. - -It was the voice of my rival, Lumme! - -“Ah, monsieur!” I exclaimed, springing up. “You have come to act the -spy, I see.” - -“I haven't,” he replied. “I came for Miss Hudson--and I came just in -time, too!” - -“No,” I said, “not just; half a minute after.” - -“You dirty, sneaky, French beast!” he cried. “I bring you to a decent -house--the first you've ever been to--and you go shamming * sick to get -a chance of insulting a virtuous girl!” - -“Shamming!” I cried. “Insulting! What words are these?” - -“Do you mean to say you aren't shamming? You can walk as well as me!” - - * It is a legend among the English that we subsist - principally upon frogs.---D'H. - -Unquestionably I was more recovered than I had admitted to myself while -convalescence was so pleasant, and now I had risen from my couch I -discovered, to my surprise, that there seemed little the matter with -me. That, however, could not excuse the imputation. Besides, I had been -addressed by several epithets, each one of which conveyed an insult. - -“You vile, low, little English pig!” I replied; “you know the -consequences of your language, I suppose?” - -“I'm glad to see it makes you sit up,” he replied. - -I advanced a step and struck him on the face, and then, seeing that he -was about to assault me with his fists, I laid him on the floor with a -well-directed kick on the chest. - -“Now,” I said, as he rose, “will you fight, or are you afraid?” - -“Fight?” he screamed. “Yes; if you'll fight fair, you kicking froggy!” - -“As to the weapons,” I replied, “I am willing to leave that question in -the hands of our seconds--swords or pistols--it is all the same to me.” - -He looked for a moment a little taken aback by my readiness. - -“Ah,” I smiled, “you do not enjoy the prospect very much?” - -“If you think I'm going to funk you with any dashed weapons, you are -mistaken,” said Teddy, hotly. “We don't fight like that in England, but -I won't stand upon that. My second is Dick Shafthead.” - -“And I shall request Mr. Tonks to act for me,” I replied. “The sooner -the better, I presume?” - -“To-morrow morning will suit me,” said he. - -“Very well,” I answered. “I shall now send a note by my servant to Mr. -Tonks.” - -I bowed with scrupulous politeness, and he, with an endeavor to imitate -this courtesy, withdrew. - -Then I rang for Halfred. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XV - - -“_An animal I should define as a man who fights in a sensible way for a -reasonable end._” - - -[Illustration: 9156] - -XTRACT from my journal at this time: - -“Wednesday Night. - -“All is arranged. Tonks and Shafthead have endeavored to dissuade -us, but words have passed that cannot be overlooked, and Lumme is as -resolute to fight as I. I must do him that credit. At last, seeing -that we are determined, they have consented to act if we will leave all -arrangements in their hands. We are both of us willing, and all we know -is that we meet at daybreak to-morrow in a place to be selected by our -seconds. Even the weapons have not yet been decided. Should I fall and -this writing pass into the hands of others, I wish them to know that -these two gentlemen, Mr. La Rabide, Shafthead and Mr. Tonks, have done -their best to procure a bloodless issue. In these circumstances I also -wish Mr. Lumme to know that I fully forgive him. - -“My will is now made, and Halfred is remembered in it. Another, too, -will not find herself forgotten. My watch and chain and my signet-ring I -have bequeathed to Amy. Farewell, dear maiden! Do not altogether forget -me! - -“Halfred is perturbed, poor fellow, at the chance of losing a master -whom, I think, he has already learned to venerate. Yet he has a fine -spirit, and it is his chief regret that the etiquette of the duel will -not permit him to be a spectator. - -“'Aim at 'is wind, sir,' he advised me. 'That oughter double 'im up if -you gets 'im fair. And perhaps, sir, if you was to give 'im the second -barrel somewhere about the point of 'is jaw, sir, things would be made -more certain-like.' - -“'And what if he aims at these places himself?' I asked. - -“'Duck, sir, the minute you see 'im a-pulling of his trigger--like this, -sir.' - -“He showed me how to 'duck' scientifically, and I gravely thanked him. -I had not the heart to tell how different are the fatal circumstances of -the duel, his devotion touched me so. I have told him to lay out my best -dark suit, a white shirt, my patent-leather boots, and a black tie that -will not make a mark for the bullet. He is engaged at present in packing -the rest of my things, for, whatever the issue, I cannot stay longer -here. Farewell again. Amy! Now I shall write to my friends in France, -and warn them of the possibilities that may arise. Then to bed!” - -I have given this extract at length, that it may be seen how grave we -all considered the situation, and also to disprove the common idea that -Englishmen do not regard the duel seriously. They are, however, a nation -of sportsmen, whose warfare is waged against the “furs and feathers.” - and the refinements of single combat practised elsewhere are little -appreciated, as will presently appear. - -It was scarcely yet daylight when I left my room, and with a little -difficulty made my way along dim corridors and down shadowy stairs to -the garden door, by which it had been decided we could most stealthily -escape to the rendezvous. Through the trimmed evergreens and the paths -where the leaf-fall of the night still lay unswept I picked my course -upon a quiet foot that left plain traces in the dew, but made no sound -to rouse the sleeping house. A wicket-gate led me out into the park, and -there I followed a path towards an oak paling that formed the boundary -along that side. At the end of this path a gate in the paling took me -into a narrow lane, and this gate was to be our rendezvous. - -As I advanced, I saw between the trees a solitary figure leaning against -the paling, and I was assured that my adversary at least had not failed -me. Looking back, I next caught sight of the seconds following me, and -I delayed my steps so that I only reached Lumme a minute or so before -them. We raised our hats and bowed in silence. He looked pale, but I -could not deny that his expression was full of spirit, and I felt for -him that respect which a brave man always inspires in one of my martial -race. - -His costume I certainly took exception to, for, instead of the decorous -garments called for by the occasion, he was attired in a light check -suit, with leather leggings and a pale-blue waistcoat, and, indeed, -rather suggested a morning's sport than the business we had come upon. -This, however, might be set down to his inexperience, and, as a matter -of fact, he was outdone by our seconds, for, in addition to wearing -somewhat similar clothes, they each carried a gun and a cartridge-bag. -Evidently, I thought, they had brought these to disarm suspicion in -case the party were observed. Their demeanor was beyond reproach, and, -indeed, surprising, considering that they had never before acted -either as principals or seconds. They raised their hats and bowed with -formality. - -“Good-morning, gentlemen,” said Shafthead. - -He took the lead throughout, my second, Tonks, concurring in everything -he said. - -“You still wish to fight?” - -Lumme and I both bowed. - -“You both refuse to settle your differences amicably?” - -“I refuse,” replied Lumme. - -“And I, certainly,” I said. - -“Very well,” said Dick, “it only remains to assure you that the loser -will be decently interred.” - -Here both he and Tonks were obviously affected by a very natural -emotion; with a distinct effort he cleared his throat and resumed: - -“And to tell you the conditions of the combat. Here are the weapons.” - -Conceive our astonishment when we were each solemnly handed a -double-barrelled shot-gun and a bagful of No. 5 cartridges! Even Lumme -recognized the unsuitability of these firearms. - -“I say, hang it!” he exclaimed; “I'm not going to fight with these!” - -“Tonks, I protest!” I said, warmly. “This is absurd.” - -“Only things you're going to get,” replied Tonks, stolidly. - -“Gentlemen,” said Shafthead, with more courtesy, “you have agreed to -fight in any method we decide. If you back out now we can only suppose -that you are afraid of getting hurt--and in that case why do you fight -at all?” - -“All right, then,” replied Lumme, with an _élan_ I must give him every -credit for; “I'm game.” - -“And I am in your hands,” said I, with a shrug that was intended to -protest, not against the danger, but the absurdity of the weapons. “At -what distance do we stand?” - -“In that matter we propose to introduce another novelty” replied Dick. - -“To make it more sporting,” explained Tonks. “Just so,” said Dick. “You -see that plantation? We are going to put one of you in one end and the -other in the other; you have each fifty cartridges, and you can fire -as soon as you meet and as often as you please. One of the seconds will -remain at either end to welcome the survivor.” - -“Oh, that's not a bad idea,” said Lumme, brightening up. - -I had my own opinion on this unheard-of innovation, but I kept it to -myself. - -“Now you toss for ends,” said Tonks. “Call.” He spun a shilling, and -Lumme called “Heads.” - -“Heads it is,” said Tonks. “Which end?” - -“It doesn't make much difference, I suppose,” replied Teddy. “I'll start -from this end.” - -“Right you are,” said Dick. “Au revoir, monsieur. When you are ready to -enter the wood fire a cartridge to let us know. Here is an extra one I -have left for signalling.” - -I bowed and followed my second across the lane and through a narrow gate -in a high hedge that bounded the side farthest from the park. Lumme was -left with Shafthead in the lane to make his way to the nearest end -of the wood, so that I should see no more of him till we met gun to -shoulder in the thickets. I confess that at that moment I could think -only of our past friendship and his genial virtues, and it was with a -great effort that I forced myself to recall his insults and harden my -heart. - -We now walked down a long field shut in by trees on either hand. At the -farther end from the lane these plantations almost met, so that they -and the hedge enclosed the field all the way round except for one narrow -gap. Here Tonks stopped and turned. - -“You enter here,” he said, indicating the wood on the right-hand side of -this gap, “and you work your way back till you meet him. By-the-way, -if you happen to hear shots anywhere else pay no attention. The keeper -often comes out after rabbits in the early morning.” - -“But if he hears us?” I asked. - -“Oh, we've made that right He knows we are out shooting. Good luck.” - -I would at least have clasped the hand of possibly the last man I should -ever talk with. I should have left some message, said something; but -with the phlegmatic coolness of his nation he had turned away before -I had time to reply. For a moment I watched him strolling nonchalantly -from me with his hands in his pockets, and then I fired my gun in the -air and stepped into the trees. - -Well, it might be an unorthodox method of duelling, but there could be -no questioning the element of hazard and excitement. Here was I at -one end of a narrow belt of trees, not thirty yards wide and nearly a -quarter of a mile in length, and from the other came a man seeking my -life. Every moment must bring us nearer together, till before long each -thicket, each tree-stem, might conceal the muzzle of his gun. And the -trees and undergrowth were dense enough to afford shelter to a whole -company. - -Three plans only were possible. First, I might remain where I was and -trust to catching him unnerved, and perhaps careless, at the end of a -long and fruitless search. But this I dismissed at once as unworthy of -a man of spirit, and, indeed, impossible for my temperament. Secondly, -I might advance at an even pace and probably meet him about the middle. -This also I dismissed as being the procedure he would naturally expect -me to adopt. Finally, I might advance with alacrity and encounter him -before I was expected. And this was the scheme I adopted. - -At a good pace I pushed my way through the branches and the thorns, -wishing now, I must confess, that I had adopted a costume more suitable -for this kind of warfare, till I had turned the corner of the field and -advanced for a little distance up the long side. While I was walking -down with Tonks I had taken the precaution of noting a particularly -large pine which seemed as nearly as possible the half-way mark, but now -a disconcerting reflection struck me. That pine was, indeed, half-way -down the side of the field, but I had also had half of the end to -traverse, so that the point at which we should meet, going at a similar -pace, would be considerably nearer than I had calculated. Supposing, -then, that Lumme was also hastening to meet me, he might even now be -close at hand! I crouched behind a thorn-bush and listened. - -It was a still, delightful morning; the sun just risen; the air fresh; -no motion in the branches. Every little sound could be distinctly heard, -and presently I heard one; a something moving in another thicket not ten -paces away. I raised my gun, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger. - -The stealthy sound ceased, and instead a pheasant flew screaming out of -the wood. No longer could there be any doubt of my position. I -executed a strategic retreat for a short distance to upset my enemy's -calculations and waited for his approach. But I heard nothing except two -or three shots from the plantation across the field, where the keeper -had evidently begun his shooting. I advanced again, though more -cautiously, but in a very short time was brought to a sudden stand-still -by a movement in a branch overhead. The diabolical thought flashed -through my mind, “He is aiming at me from a tree!” - -Instantly I raised my gun and discharged both barrels into the leaves. -There came down, not Lumme, but a squirrel; yet the incident inspired -me with an idea. I chose a suitable tree, and, having scrambled up with -some difficulty (which was not lessened by the thought that I might be -shot in the act), I waited for my rival to pass below. - -[Illustration: 0166] - -Five minutes passed--ten--fifteen. I heard more shots from the keeper's -gun. I slew two foxes and a pheasant which were ill-advised enough to -make a suspicious stir in the undergrowth; but not a sign of Lumme. I -had not even heard him fire one shot since the duel began. Some mystery -here, evidently. Perhaps he was waiting patiently for me to approach -within a few paces of the lane whence he started. And I--should I court -his cartridges by falling into a trap I had thought of laying myself? - -Yet one of us must move, or we should be the laughing-stock of the -country-side, and if one of two must attack, the brave man can be in no -doubt as to which that is. I descended, and with infinite precautions -slowly pushed my way forward, raking with my shot every bush that might -conceal a foe. Suddenly between the trees I saw a man--undoubtedly a man -this time. I put my hand in my cartridge-bag. One cartridge remaining, -besides two in my chambers; three cartridges against a man who had still -left fifty! Yet three would be sufficient if I could but get them home. - -Carefully I crept on my hands and knees to within a dozen paces; then -I raised my head, and behold! it was Tonks I saw standing in the lane -leaning against the paling of the park! But Lumme? Ah, I had it. He had -fled! - -Shouldering my gun, I stepped out of the wood. - -“Hillo!” cried Tonks. “Bagged him?” - -“No,” I said. - -“Been hit?” he asked. “You look in rather a mess.” - -And indeed I did, for my clothes had been rent by the thorns, my face -and my hands torn, and doubtless I showed also some mental signs of the -ordeal I had been through. For remember that though I had not met an -adversary, I had braved the risk of it at every step. And I had made -those steps. - -“No,” I replied. “I have not even been fired at.” - -“I heard a regular cannonade,” he said. - -“Forty-seven times have I fired at a venture,” I answered. “And I have -not been inaccurate in my aim. In that wood you will find the bodies of -four squirrels, five pheasants, and two foxes.” - -“But where is Lumme?” he inquired. - -“Fled,” I replied, with an intonation of contempt I could not conceal. - -“What! funked it?” - -“I saw no sign of him.” - -“By Jove! that's bad,” said Tonks, though in so matter-of-course a -tone that I was astonished. A man of a sluggish spirit, I fear, was my -cricketing second. - -“Let us call Shafthead,” I said. “For myself, my honor is satisfied, and -I shall leave him and you to deal with the runaway.” - -We walked together along the lane till we came to the gate in the hedge -through which we had started for the wood. Through this we could see -right down the field, and there, coming towards us, walked Shafthead and -Lumme. - -“The devil!” I exclaimed. - -“By Jove!” said Tonks. - -“Can you explain this?” I asked him. - -“I? No; unless you passed each other.” - -“Passed!” I cried, scornfully. - -I threw the gate open and advanced to meet them. To my surprise, Lumme -looked at me with no sign of shame, but rather with indignation. - -“Well,” he cried to me, “you're a fine man to fight a duel. Been in a -ditch?” - -“Poltroon!” I replied. “Where did you hide yourself?” - -“I hide?” said he. “Where have you been hiding?” - -“Do you mean to tell me that you men never met?” asked Shafthead. - -“Never!” we cried together. - -“Tonks,” said he, “into which plantation did you put your man?” - -“The right-hand one,” said Tonks. - -“The right!” exclaimed Dick. “Then you have been in different woods! Oh, -Tonks, this is scandalous!” - -But my second had already turned his head away, and seemed so bowed by -contrition that my natural anger somewhat relented. - -“Possibly your own directions were not clear,” I suggested. - -“Ah,” said Dick, “I see how it was! He must have turned round, and that -made his right hand his left.” - -“Well,” said Lumme, “you've made a nice mess of it. What's to be done -now?” - -[Illustration: 0169] - -“I am in my second's hands,” I replied. - -“And I think you've fought enough,” said Tonks. “How many cartridges did -you fire, Lumme?” - -“Thirty-two,” said he. - -“Well, hang it, you've loosed seventy-nine cartridges between you, and -that's more than any other duellists I ever heard of. Let's pull up the -sticks * and come in to breakfast.” - - * “Pull up sticks”--a football metaphor.--D'H. - -“Is honor satisfied?” asked Dick, who had more appreciation of the -delicacies of such a sentiment than my prosaic second. - -Lumme and I glanced at each other, and we remembered now our past -intimacy; also, perhaps, the strain of that fruitless search for each -other among those thorny woods. - -“Mine is,” said Lumme. - -“Mine also,” said I. - -And thus ended what so nearly was a fatal encounter. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XVI - - - “Heed my words! Beware of women, - - Shallowest when overbrimming - - Deepest when they wish you well! - - Tears and trifles, lace and laughter, - - The Deuce alone knows what they're after-- - - And he's too much involved to tell.” - - --Anon. - - -[Illustration: 9171] - -E all walked back from the field of battle in a highly amicable frame -of mind. Going across the park, Lumme and I fell a little behind our -seconds and conversed with the friendliness of two men who have learned -to respect each other. We had cordially shaken hands, we laughed, we -even jested about the hazards we had escaped--one would think that no -more complete understanding could be desired. Yet there was still a -little thorn pricking us both, a thorn that did not come from the woods -in which we had waged battle, but lived in the peaceful house before us. -Our talk flagged; we were silent. Then Teddy abruptly remarked: - -“I say, I don't want to rake up by-gones and that sort of thing, don't -you know, but--er--you mustn't try to kiss her again, d'Haricot.” - -“Try?” I replied, a little nettled at this aspersion on my abilities. -“Why not say, 'You must not kiss her again'?” - -“By Jove! did you?” cried Teddy, stopping. - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -“My dear Lumme, the successful man is he who lies about himself and -holds his tongue about women.” - -“Be hanged!” he exclaimed. - -“Well, why not be?” I inquired, placidly. - -“I don't believe it,” he asserted. - -“Continue a sceptic,” I counselled. - -“She told me she had never kissed any one else,” he blurted out. - -It was now my turn to start. - -“Except whom?” I asked. - -“Me--if you must know,” said Teddy. - -“You kissed her?” I cried. - -“Well, it doesn't matter to you.” - -“Nor does it matter to you that I did,” I retorted. - -“But did you?” he asked, with such a painful look of inquiry that my -indignation melted into humor. - -“My dear friend,” I replied, “I see it all now. She has deceived us -both! We are in the same ship, as you would say; two of those fools that -women make to pass a wet afternoon.” - -“You mean that she has been flirting with me?” he asked, with a -woe-begone countenance. - -“Also with me,” I answered, cheerfully. For a false woman, like spilled -cream, is not a matter worth lament. - -“I shall ask her,” he said, after a minute or two. - -“Have you ever known a woman before?” I asked. - -“I've known dozens of 'em,” he replied, with some indignation. - -“And yet you propose to ask one whether she has been true to you?” - -“Why shouldn't I?” - -“Because, my friend, you will receive such an answer as a minister gives -to a deputation.” - -“But they might both tell the truth.” - -“Neither ever lies,” I replied. “Diplomacy and Eve were invented to -obviate the necessity'.” - -This aphorism appeared to give him some food for reflection--or possibly -he was merely silenced by a British disgust for anything that was not -the roast beef of conversation. - -We had come among the terraces and the trim yews and hollies of the -garden. The long west wing of Seneschal Court with the high tower above -it were close before us. Suddenly he stopped behind the shelter of a -pruned and castellated hedge, and, with the air of a lost traveller -seeking for guidance, asked me, “I say, what are you going to do?” - -“Return to London this morning.” - -[Illustration: 0174] - -“Why?” - -“For the same reason that I leave the table when dinner is over.” - -“You won't see her again?” - -“See her? Yes, as I should see the remains of my meal were I to pass -through the diningroom. But I shall not sit down again.” - -I do not think Teddy quite appreciated this metaphor. - -“Don't you think she is--” he began, but had some difficulty in finding -a word. - -“Well served?” I suggested. - -“No.” - -“Digestible, then? No, my friend. I do not think she is very digestible -either for you or for me. We get pains inside and little nourishment.” - -“I like her awfully,” said poor Teddy. - -“Who would not?” I replied. “If a girl is beautiful, charming, not too -chary of her favors, and yet not inartistically lavish; if she knows how -to let a smile spring gently from an artless dimple, how to aim a bright -eye and shake a light curl; and if she is not too fully occupied with -others to spare one an hour or two of these charms, who would not like -her? Personally, I should adore her--while it lasted.” - -“Do you really think she isn't all she seems?” he asked, in a doleful -voice. - -“On the contrary, I think she is more; considerably more. My dear Lumme, -I have studied this girl dispassionately, critically, as I would a -work of art offered me for sale, and I pronounce my opinion in three -words--she is false! I counsel you, my friend, to leave with me this -morning.” - -“And I should advise you to take this _gentleman's_ advice,” exclaimed -a voice behind us, in a tone that I cannot call friendly. We turned, -possibly with more precipitation than dignity, to see Miss Amy herself -within five paces of us. Evidently she had just appeared round the edge -of the castellated hedge, though how long she had been standing on the -other side I cannot pretend to guess. Long enough, at any rate, to give -her a very flushed face and an eye that sparkled more brightly than -ever. Indeed, I never saw her to more advantage. - -“How dare you!” she cried, tears threatening in her voice; “how _dare_ -you--talk of me so!” - -“Mademoiselle--” I began, with conciliatory humility. - -“Don't speak to me!” she interrupted, and turned her brown eyes to -Lumme. Undoubted tears glistened in them now. - -“So you have been listening to this--this _person's_ slanders? And you -are going away now because you have learned that I am false? I have been -offered for sale like a work of art! He has studied me dispassionately!” - -Here she gave me a look whose wrathful significance I will leave you to -imagine. - -“Go! Go with him! You may be sure that _I_ sha'n't ask either of you to -stay!” - -Never had two men a better case against a woman, and never. I am sure, -have two men taken less advantage of it. - -“Miss Hudson; I say--” began poor Teddy, in the tone rather of the -condemned murderer than the inexorable judge. - -“Don't answer me!” she cried, and turned the eyes back to me. - -The tears still glistened, but anger shone through them. - -“As for you--You--you--_brute!_” - -“Pardon me,” I replied, in a reasonable tone, “the conversation you -overheard was intended for another.” - -“Yes,” she exclaimed, “while you are trying to force your odious -attentions on me, you are attacking me all the time behind my back.” - -“Behind a hedge,” I corrected, as pleasantly as possible. - -But this did not appear to mollify her. - -“You think every woman you meet is in love with you, I suppose,” she -sneered. “Well, you may be interested to know that we all think you -simply a ridiculous little Frenchman.” - -[Illustration: 0178] - -“Little!” I exclaimed, justly incensed at this unprovoked and untrue -attack. “What do you then call my friend?” - -For Lumme was considerably smaller than I, and might indeed have been -termed short. - -“He knows what I think of him,” she answered; and with this ambiguous -remark (accompanied by an equally ambiguous flash of her brown eyes at -Teddy), she turned scornfully and hurried to the house. - -For a moment we stood silent, looking somewhat foolishly at each other. - -“You've done it now,” said Teddy, at length. - -“I have,” I replied, my equanimity returning. - -“I suppose I'll have to clear out too. Hang it, you needn't have got me -into a mess like this,” said he, in an injured tone. - -“Better a mess than a snare,” I retorted. “Let us look up a good train, -eat some breakfast, and shake the dust of this house from our feet.” - -He made no answer, and when we got to the house he tacitly agreed to -accompany Shafthead and myself by the 11.25 train. - -My things were packed. Halfred and a footman were even piling them on -the carriage, and I was making my adieux, when I observed this dismissed -suitor enter the hall with his customary cheerful air and no sign of -departure about him. - -“Are you ready? I asked him. - -“They've asked me to stay till to-morrow,” he replied, with a conscious -look he could not conceal, “and--er--well, there's really no necessity -for going to-day. Good-bye--see you soon in town.” - -“Good-bye,” said Amy, sweetly, but with a look in her eyes that belied -her voice. “I am so glad we have been able to persuade _one_ of you to -stay a little longer.” - -“Better a little fish than an empty dish,” I said to myself, and -revolving this useful maxim in my mind I departed from Seneschal Court. - -[Illustration: 0179] - - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XVII - - -“_I tell thee in thine ear, he is a man 'Tis wiser thou shoutdst drink -with than affront!_” - ---Ben Verulam. - - -[Illustration: 9180] - -UT what is in it?” - -“I don't know, sir,” said Mr. Titch. I had just got back to my rooms and -stood facing a gigantic packing-case that had appeared in my absence. It -was labelled, “For Mr. Balfour, care of M. d'Haricot. Not to be opened.” - Not another word of explanation, not a letter, not a message, nothing to -throw light on the mystery. The three Titches and Halfred stood beside -me also gazing at this strange offering. - -“Could it be fruit, sir?” suggested Mrs. Titch, in her foolishly wise -fashion. - -“Fruit!” said Aramatilda, scornfully. “It must weigh near on a ton.” - -“You 'aven't ordered any furniture inadvertently, as it were, sir?” - asked Halfred, scratching his head, sagely. - -“If anybody has ordered this it is evidently Mr. Balfour,” I replied. - -“Who is Mr. Balfour, sir?” said Aramatilda. - -“Do you know?” I asked Mr. Titch. - -My landlord looked solemn, as he always did when speaking of the great. - -“There is the Right Honorable Arthur Balfour, nephew to the Marquis--” - -“Yes, yes,” I interrupted; “but I do not think that admirable statesman -would confide his purchases to me.” - -“Then, sir,” said Mr. Titch, with an air of washing his hands of all -lesser personages, “I give it up.” - -“I wish you could,” I replied, “but I fear it must remain here for the -present.” - -They left my room casting lingering glances at the monstrosity, and once -I was alone my curiosity quickly died away. I felt lonely and -depressed. Parting from a houseful of guests and the cheerful air of a -country-house, I realized how foreign, after all, this city was to me. -I had acquaintances; I could find my way through the streets; but what -else? Ah, if I were in Paris now! That name spelled Heaven as I said it -over and over to myself. - -I said it the oftener that I might not say “woman.” What mockery in that -word! Yet I felt that I must find relief. I opened my journal and this -is what I wrote: - -“To d'Haricot from d'Haricot.--Foolish friend, beware of those things -they call eyes, of that substance they term hair, of that abstraction -known as a smile, and, above all, beware of those twin lies styled lips. -They kiss but in the intervals of kissing others; they speak but to -deceive. Nevermore shall I regard a woman more seriously than I do this -pretty, revolving ring of cigarette smoke. - -“I am twenty-five, and romance is over. Follow thou my counsel and my -example.” - -Outside it rained--hard, continuously, without room for a hope of -sunshine, as it only rains in England, I think. Perhaps I may be unjust, -but certainly never before have I been so wet through to the soul. -I threw down my pen, I went to the piano, and I began to play “L'Air -Bassinette” of Verdi. Gently at first I played, and then more loudly and -yet more loudly. So carried away was I that I began to sing. - -Now at last the rain is inaudible; my heart is growing light again, when -above my melody I hear a most determined knocking on the door. Before -I have time to rise, it opens, and there enters--my neighbor, the old -General. Is it that he loves music so much? No, I scarcely think so. His -face is not that of the ravished dolphin; on the contrary, his eyes are -bright with an emotion that is not pleasure, his face is brilliant with -a choleric flush. I turn and face him. - -“Pray do not stop your pandemonium on my account,” he says, with -sarcastic politeness. “I have endured it for half an hour, and I now -purpose to leave this house and not return till you are exhausted, sir.” - -“I am obliged to you for your permission,” I reply, with equal -politeness, “and I shall now endeavor to win my bet.” - -“Your bet, sir?” he inquires, with scarcely stifled indignation. - -“I have made a bet that I shall play and sing for thirty-six consecutive -hours,” I explain. - -“Then, sir, I shall interdict you, as sure as there is law in England!” - -“Have you now explained the object of this visit?” I inquire. - -“No, sir, I have not. I came in here to request you to make yourself -personally known to your disreputable confederates in order that they -may not mistake _me_ for a damned Bulgarian anarchist--or whatever your -country and profession happen to be.” - -“May I ask _you_ to explain this courteous yet ambiguous demand?” - -“Certainly, sir; and I trust you may see fit to put an end to -the nuisance. Two days ago I was accosted as I was leaving this -house--leaving the door of my own house, sir, I would have you remark! A -dashed half-hanged scoundrel came up to me and had the impudence to tell -me he wanted to speak to me. 'Well,' I said, “what is your business, -sir?' - -“'My name is Hankey,' said he.” - -“Hankey!” I exclaimed. - -“Yes, sir, Hankey. You know him, then?” - -“By name only.” - -“Then, sir, I had the advantage over you,” said the General, irately. “I -didn't know the scoundrel from Beelzebub--and I told him so. Upon that, -sir, he had the audacity to throw out a hint that my friends--as he -called his dashed gang of cut-throats--were keeping an _eye_ on me. I -pass the hint on to you, sir, having no acquaintance myself with such -gentry!” - -“And was that all that passed?” I asked, feeling too amazed and too -interested to take offence. - -“No, sir, not all--but quite enough for my taste, I assure you. I said -to him, 'Sir,' I said, 'I know your dashed name and I may now tell you -that mine is General Sholto; that I am not the man to be humbugged like -this, and that I propose to introduce you to the first policeman I see.' -Gad, you should have seen the rogue jump! Then it seemed that he had -done me the honor of mistaking me for you, sir, and I must ask you to -have the kindness to take such steps as will enable your confederates to -know you when they see you, or, by George! I'll put the whole business -into the hands of the police!” - -I felt strongly tempted to let my indignant fellow-lodger adopt this -course, for my feelings towards the absentee tenant of Mount Olympus -House could not be described as cordial, and the impudence of his -attempt to threaten me took my breath away; but then the thought struck -me, “This man is an agent--though I fear an unworthy one--of the Cause. -I must sink my own grievances!” Accordingly, with a polite air, I -endeavored to lull my neighbor's suspicions, assuring him that it was -only a tailor's debt the conspiring Hankey sought from me, and that I -would settle the account and abate the nuisance that very afternoon. - -He seemed a little mollified; to the extent, at least, that his thunder -became a more distant rumble. - -“I don't want to ask too many favors at once, sir,” he said; “but I fear -I must also request you to remove your piano to the basement for the -next six-and-thirty hours. I shall not stand it, sir, I warn you!” - -“My dear sir,” I cried, “that was but a--how does the immortal -Shakespeare call it?--a countercheck quarrelsome--that was all. I should -not have sung at all had I known you disliked music.” - -“Music! music!” exclaimed my visitor, with an expressive blending of -contempt and indignation. Then, in a milder tone, yet with the most -crushing, irony, continued: “I go to every musical piece in London--and -enjoy 'em sir; all of 'em. I've even sat out a concert in the Albert -Hall; so if I'm not musical, what the deuce am I?” - -“It is evident,” I replied. - -“I might even appreciate your efforts, sir. Very possibly I would, very -possibly, supposing I heard 'em at a reasonable hour,” said the General, -with magnanimity that will one day send him to heaven. “But it is my -habit, sir, to take a--ah--a rest in the afternoon, and--er--er--well, -it's deuced disturbing.” - -This is but the echo of the storm among the hills. The wrath of my -gallant neighbor is evidently all but evaporated. - -“A thousand apologies, sir. If you will be good enough to tell me at -what hours my playing is disturbing to you, I shall regulate my melody -accordingly.” - -“Much obliged; much obliged. I don't want to stop you altogether, -don't you know,” says my visitor, and abruptly inquires, “Professional -musician, I presume?” - -“Did I sound like it?” - -“Beg pardon; being a foreigner, I fancied you'd probably be--er--” He -evidently wants to say “a Bohemian,” but fears to wound my feelings. - -“'A damned Bulgarian anarchist,'” I suggest. - -He snorts, laughs, and apparently is already inclined to smile at his -recent heat. - -“I'm a bad-tempered old boy,” he says. “Pardon, mossoo.” - -He is ashamed, I can see, that John Bull should have condescended -to lose his temper with a mere foreigner. This point of view is not -flattering; but the naïveté of the old boy amuses me. - -“Take a seat, sir,” I now venture to suggest, “and allow me to offer you -a little whiskey and a little soda water.” - -He hesitates for a moment, for he has not intended that pacification -should go to this length; but his kindness of heart prevails. He has -erred and he feels he must do this penance for his lack of discretion. -So he says, “Thank you,” and down he sits. - -And that was the beginning of my acquaintance with my martial neighbor, -General Sholto. In half an hour we were talking away like old friends; -indeed, I soon began to suspect that the old gentleman felt as pleased -as I did to have company on that wet afternoon. - -“I understand that you adorn the British army,” I remark. - -“I was a soldier, sir; I was a soldier. I would be now if I'd had the -luck of some fellows. A superannuated fossil; that's what I am, mossoo; -an old wreck, no use to any one.” - -As he says this, he draws himself up to show that the wreck still -contains beans, as the English proverb expresses it, but the next moment -the fire dies out of his eyes and he sits meditatively, looking suddenly -ten years older. He did not intend me to believe his words, but to -himself they have a meaning. - -I am silent. - -“I am one of the unemployed,” he adds, in a minute. - -“I also,” I reply. - -I like my neighbor; I am in need of a companion; and I tell him frankly -my story. His sympathies are entirely with me. - -“I'm happy to meet a young man who sticks up for the decencies -nowadays,” he says. “Bring back your King, sir, give him a free hand, -and set us an example in veneration and respect and all the rest of it. -You'll make a clean sweep, I suppose. Guillotine, eh? Not a bad thing if -used on the proper people.” - -I am ashamed to confess how half-hearted my own theories of restoration -are, compared with this out-and-out suggestion. I can but twist my -mustache, and, looking as truculent as possible, mutter: - -“Well, well, we shall see when the time comes.” - -When at last he rises to leave me, he repeats with emphasis his -conviction that republicanism should be trodden out under a heavy boot, -and so mollified is he by my tactful treatment that as we part he even -invites me into that carefully guarded room of his. It is not yet a -specific invitation. - -“Some day soon I'll hope to see you in my own den, mossoo. Au revoir, -sir; happy to have met you.” - -Yet I cannot help thinking that even this is a triumph of diplomacy. My -spirits rise; my ridiculous humors have been charmed quite away. As for -woman, she seems not even worth cynical comment in my journal. “Give me -man!” I say to myself. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XVIII - - -“_A drop of water on a petal in the sunshine; that same drop down thy -neck in a cavern. Both are woman; thy mood and the occasion make the -sole difference_.” - ---Cervanto Y'Alvez. - - -[Illustration: 9190] - -ECORD of an episode taken from my journal, and written upon the evening -following my first meeting with the General: - -“This afternoon I decide to go to the Temple and see Dick Shafthead. We -shall dine together quietly, and I shall vent what is left of my humors -and be refreshed by his good-humored raillery. The afternoon is fading -into evening as I mount his stairs; the lamps are being lit; by this -hour he should have returned. But no; I knock and knock again, and get -no answer. - -“'Well,' I say to myself, 'he cannot be long. I shall wait for him -outside.' - -“I descend again to wait in that quiet and soothing court, where the -fountain plays and the goldfish swim and the autumn leaves tremble -overhead. Now and then one of these drops stealthily upon the pavement; -the pigeons flit by, settle, fly off again; people pass occasionally; -but at first that is all that happens. At last there enters a woman, who -does not pass through, but loiters on the farther side of the fountain -as though she were meditating--or waiting for somebody. So far as I can -judge in the half-light and at a little distance, she is young, and her -outline is attractive; therefore I conclude she is not meditating. - -“She does not see me, but I should like to see more of her. I walk round -the fountain and come up behind her. She hears my step, turns sharply, -and approaches, evidently prepared to greet me. Words are on the tip of -her tongue, when abruptly she starts back. She does not know me, after -all. But quickly, before she has time to recover herself, I raise my hat -and say: - -“'I cannot be mistaken. We have met at the bishop's?'” - -[Illustration: 0192] - -“It is a happy inspiration, I think, to choose so respectable a host, -and for a moment she is staggered. Probably she does actually know a -bishop, and may have met a not ill-looking gentleman somewhat resembling -myself at his house. In this moment I perceive that she is certainty -young and very far removed, indeed, from being unattractive. - -“To me, meeting her dark eyes for an instant, and then seeing the fair, -full face turn to a fair profile as she looks away in some confusion, -she seems beyond doubt very beautiful. A simple straw hat covers her -dark coil of hair and slopes arrogantly forward over a luminous and -brilliant eye; her nose is straight, her mouth small, suggesting -decision and a little petulance, her chin deep and finely moulded, -her complexion delicate as a rare piece of alabaster, while her figure -matches these distracting charms. - -“I make these notes so full that I may the better summon her to my -memory. Also I note that the colors she wears are rich and bright; there -is red and there is dark green; and they seem to make her beauty stand -out with a boldness that corresponds to the dark glance of her eye. Not -that she is anything but most modest in her demeanor, but, ah! that eye! -Its glow betrays a fire deep underneath. - -“Her eye meets mine again, then she says: - -“'I--I don't know you. I thought you were--I mean I don't know why -you spoke to me.' - -“Evidently she does not quite know how to meet the situation. - -“I decide that it is the duty of a gentleman to assist her. - -“'I spoke because I thought I knew you, and hoped for an instant I was -remembered.' - -“'You had no business to,' she replies. Her air is haughty, but a -little theatrical. I mean that she does not entirely convince me of her -displeasure. - -“'Mademoiselle, I offer you a thousand apologies. I see now that if I -had really met you before I could not possibly confuse your face with -another's. Doubtless I ought to have been more cautious, but as you -perhaps guess, I am a foreigner, and I do not understand the English -customs in these matters.' - -“She receives this speech with so much complaisance that I feel -emboldened to continue. - -“'I am also solitary, and meeting with a face I thought I knew seemed -providential. Do you grant me your pardon?' - -“She gives a little laugh that is more than half friendly. - -“'Of course--if it was a mistake.' - -“'Such a pleasant mistake that I should like to continue in error,' I -reply. - -“But at this she draws back, and her expression changes a little. It -does not become altogether hostile, but it undoubtedly changes. - -“'May I ask you a favor?' I say, quickly, and with a modest air. 'I was -looking for a friend and have become lost in this Temple. Can you tell -me where number thirty-four is?' - -“'Yes,' she replies, with a look that penetrates, and, I think, rather -enjoys, this simple ruse, 'it is next to number thirty-three.' And with -that she turns to go, so abruptly that I cannot help suspecting she also -desires to hide a smile. - -“But observing that I, too, shall not waste more time here, I also turn, -and as she does not actually order me away, I walk by her side, studying -her afresh from the corner of my eye. She is of middle height, or -perhaps an inch above it; she walks with a peculiar swing that seems to -say, 'I do not care one damn for anybody,' and the expression of her -eyes and mouth bear out this sentiment.” - -“Does she resent my conduct?” - -“Yes, probably she does, though my demeanor is humility itself.” - -“'You came to enjoy the quiet of the Temple, mademoiselle?'” - -“'I was enjoying it--till I was interrupted,' she answers, still -smiling, though not in my direction.” - -“I notice that she again casts her eye round the court, and I make a -reckless shot. - -“'Perhaps you, too, expected to see a friend?' - -“The eyes blaze at me for an instant. - -“'No, I did not,' she says abruptly, and mends her pace still further. - -“'I noticed another lady here before you came,' I say, mendaciously and -with a careless air, as though I thought it most natural that two ladies -should rendezvous at that hour in the Temple. She gives me a quick -glance, which I meet unruffled. - -“We pass through a gate and into a side street, and here, by the most -evil fortune, a cab was standing. - -“'Cabman,' says the lady, abruptly, 'are you engaged?' - -“The next moment she has sprung into the cab, bade me a 'good-bye' that -seems compounded of annoyance and of laughter, with perhaps a touch -of kindness added, thrown me a swift glance of her brilliant eyes, and -jingled out of my sight. And I have not even learned her name. - -“This exit of the fair Miss Unknown is made so suddenly that for half a -minute I stand with my hat in my hand still, foolishly smiling. - -“Then I give an exclamation that might be deemed profane, rush round -a corner and up a street, catch a glimpse of the back of a cab -disappearing into the traffic of the Strand, leap into another, and bid -my driver pursue that hansom in front. - -“Well, I had a spirited chase while it lasted, for my quarry had a swift -steed, and there were many other cabs in the Strand that would have -confused the scent for any but the most relentless sleuth-hound. It -ended in Pall Mall, where I had the satisfaction of seeing the flying -chariot deposit a stout gentleman before a most respectable club. - -“I drove to my rooms with my ardor cooled and my cynicism fast -returning, and had almost landed at my door when a most surprising -coincidence occurred, so surprising that I suspect it was the -contrivance of either Providence or the devil. A cab left the door just -as I drove up, and in it sat Miss Unknown! I was too dumfounded to turn -in pursuit, and, besides, I was too curious to learn the reason of this -visit. - -“By the greatest good luck the door was opened by Halfred, who in his -obliging way lent his services now and then when the maid was out. - -“'Did she leave her name?' I cried. - -“'Beg pardon, sir?' said Halfred, in astonishment. - -“'I mean the lady who just called for me.' - -“'She hasked for General Sholto, sir.' - -“My face fell. - -“'The devil she did!' I exclaimed. - -“'Yes, sir,' said he; 'that's the lady as visits 'im sometimes.' - -“I whistled. - -“'Was the General at home?' - -“'No, sir, but she left a message as 'ow she'd call again to-morrow -morning.' - -“'Halfred,' I said, 'do not deliver that message. I shall see to it -myself.' - -“And so Miss Unknown is the gay General's mysterious visitor. And I -caught her at another rendezvous. But she denied this. Bah! I do not -believe her. I trust no woman. - -“On my mind is left a curious impression from this brief passage--an -impression of a beautiful wild animal, half shy, half bold, dreading -the cage, but not so much, I think, the chase. Yes, decidedly there was -something untamed in her air, in her eye, in her devil-may-care walk. -For myself a savage queen has few charms, especially if she have merely -the cannibal habit without the simplicity of attire. - -“Yet, mon Dieu, I have but seen her once! Come, to-morrow may show her -in a better light. Ah, my gay dog of a General! It is unfortunate for -you that you were so anxious to make my acquaintance!” - -Here ends the entry in my journal. You shall now see with what tact and -acumen I pursued this entertaining intrigue. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XIX - - -“_Introduce you to my mistress? I should as soon think of lending you my -umbrella!_” - ---Hercule D'Enville. - - -[Illustration: 9198] - -OOD-MORNING, General. I have come to return your call.” - -The General stood in the door of his room, holding it half closed behind -him. He wore a very old shooting-coat, smeared with many curious stains. -Evidently he was engaged upon some unclean work, and evidently, also, he -would have preferred me to call at some other hour. I remembered, now, -Halfred's dark hints as to his occupation; but I remembered still more -distinctly the dark eyes of Miss Unknown, and, whether he desired my -company or not, I was determined to spend that morning in his room. - -“Morning, mossoo,” he said. “Glad to see you, but--er--I'm afraid I'm -rather in a mess at present.” - -“You are the better company, then, for a conspirator who is never out of -one,” I replied, gayly. - -Still he hesitated. - -“My dear General, positively I shall not permit you to treat me with -such ceremony,” I insisted. “I shall empty your ink-pot over my coat to -keep you company if you persist in considering me too respectable.” - -Well, who could withstand so importunate a visitor? I entered the -carefully guarded chamber, smiling at myself at the little dénouement -that was to follow, and curious in the mean time to see what kind of a -den it was that this amorous dragon dwelt in. The first glance solved -the mystery of his labors. An easel stood in one corner, a palette and -brushes lay on a table, a canvas rested upon the easel; in a word, my -neighbor pursued the arts! - -He looked at me a little awkwardly as I glanced round at these things. - -[Illustration: 0200] - -“Fact is, I dabble a bit in art,” he explained. “I have nothing to -do, don't you know, and--er--I always felt drawn to the arts. Amateur -work--mere amateur work, as you can see for yourself, but I flatter -myself this ain't so bad, eh? Miss Ara--Ara--what the devil's her -name?--Titch. Done from memory, of course; I don't want these busybodies -here to know what I'm doing.” - -“You keep your proficiency a secret, then?” I said, gazing politely at -this wonderful work of memory. It was not very like nor very artistic, -and I wished to avoid passing any opinion. - -“Never told a soul but you, mossoo, and--er--well, there's only one -other in the secret.” - -Again I smiled to myself. - -“It must be delightful to perpetuate the faces of your lady friends,” I -remarked. - -The old boy smiled with some complacency. - -“That's rather my forte, I consider,” he replied. - -“You are fortunate!” I cried. “I would that I had such an excuse for my -gallantries!” - -“Come now, mossoo, I'm an old boy, remember!” he protested, though he -did not seem at all displeased by this innuendo. - -“You are at the most dangerous age for a woman's peace of mind.” - -“Tuts--nonsense!” said he. “Twenty years ago, I don't mind -admitting--er--” - -“I understand! And twenty years subsequent to that? Ah, General!” - -He laughed good-humoredly. He admitted that for his years he was -certainly as youthful as most men. He had become in an excellent temper -both with himself and his guest, when suddenly our conversation was -interrupted by a knocking at the door. He barely had time to open it -when the dénouement arrived. In other words, Miss Unknown stepped into -the room. Yet at the threshold she paused, for I could see that at -the first glance she recognized me and knew not what to make of this -remarkable coincidence. - -As she stood there she made a picture that put into the shade anything a -much greater artist than the General could have painted, with her deep, -finely turned chin cast a little upward and her dark, glowing eyes -looking half arrogantly, half doubtingly, round the room. I noted -again the petulant, wilful expression in the small mouth and the -indescribable, untamed air. As before, she was dressed in bright colors, -that set her off as a heavy gold frame sets off a picture; only her -color this time was a vivid shade of purple. - -She paused but for a moment, and then she evidently made up her mind to -treat me as a stranger, for she turned her glance indifferent to my host -and asked, in an off-hand tone, - -“Didn't you know I was coming this morning?” - -“I? No,” said he, with an air as embarrassed as I could have wished. - -“I left a message yesterday afternoon.” - -“I never got it.” - -“You mean you forgot it.” - -“I mean I never got it,” he repeated, irately this time. - -She made a grimace, as much as to say, “Don't lose your temper,” and -glanced again at me. - -“My niece, Miss Kerry,” said he, hurriedly, introducing me with a jerk -of his hand. - -His “niece”! I smiled to myself at this euphonism, but bowed as -deferentially as if I had really believed her to be his near relation, -for I have always believed that the flattery of respect paves the way -more readily than any other. - -She smiled charmingly, while I by my glance endeavored further to assure -her that my discretion was complete. - -We exchanged a few polite words, and then she turned contemptuously to -the canvas. - -“Are you still at this nonsense?” she asked, with a smile, it is true, -but not a very flattering one. - -“Still at it, Kate,” he replied, looking highly annoyed with her tone. - -Evidently this hobby of his was a sore subject between them and one -which did not raise him in her estimation. For a moment I was assailed -by compunction at having thus let her convict him in the ridiculous act. -“Yet, after all, they are May and December.” I reflected, “and if the -worst comes to the worst, I can find a much more suitable friend for -this 'niece.'” - -With a movement that was graceful in spite of its free and easy absence -of restraint, she rummaged first for and then in her pocket and produced -a letter which she handed to her “uncle,” asking, “What is the meaning -of this beastly thing?” - -Yes, unquestionably her language, like her carriage and her eyes, had -something of the savage queen. - -The General read the missive with a frown and glanced in my direction -uncomfortably as he answered, “It is obviously--er--” - -“Oh, it's by way of being a bill,” she interrupted. “I don't need to be -told that. But what am I to do?” - -“Pay it.” - -“Well, then, I'll need--” She stopped, glanced at me, and then, with a -defiantly careless laugh, said, boldly, “I'll need an advance.” - -“The deuce you will!” said the General. “At this moment I can scarcely -go into--” - -“Don't trouble,” she interrupted. “Just write me a check, please.” - -Without a word, but with a very sulky expression, the General banged -open a writing-desk and hastily scribbled in his check-book, while the -undutiful Miss Kerry turned to me as graciously as ever. But I thought -I had carried my plot far enough for the present. Besides, she must come -down-stairs, and my room was on the ground floor. - -“I fear I must leave you, General,” I said. - -“I must go, too,” said Miss Kerry, as I turned to make my adieux to her. -“Good-bye, uncle. Much obliged for this.” - -It seemed to my ear that there was a laugh in that word “uncle,” and as -I saw the unfortunate warrior watch our exit with a face as purple as -his “niece's” dress, I heartily pitied the foiled Adonis. Yet if fortune -chose so to redistribute her gifts, was it for me to complain? - -“May I accompany you for a short distance this time?” I asked. - -And a couple of minutes later I was gayly walking with her from the -house, prepared to hail a cab and hurry away my prize upon the first -sign of pursuit. No appearance, however, of a bereaved general officer -running hatless and distraught with jealousy behind us. Evidently he -had resigned himself to his fate--or did he place such reliance in the -fidelity and devotion of his “niece”? Well, we should see about that! - -“Then you remembered me?” I said. - -“How do you know?” - -“By that question. Ah, it has betrayed you! Yes, you do remember the -ignorant and importunate foreigner who pursued you with his unpleasing -attentions?” - -“But it was a mistake, you said,” she replied, with a flash of her eyes -that seemed to mean much. - -“A mistake, of course,” I said. “And now let us take a cab and have some -lunch.” - -She appeared a little surprised at this bold suggestion, and -recollecting that an appearance of propriety is very rigorously observed -in England, often where one would least expect it, I modified my _élan_ -to a more formal gallantry, and very quickly persuaded her to accompany -me to the most fashionable restaurant in Piccadilly. - -Even then, though she was generous of her smiles and those flashing -glances that I could well imagine kindling the gallant heart of General -Sholto, and though her talk was dashed with slang and marked with a -straightforward freedom, yet she always maintained a sufficient dignity -to check any too presumptuous advances. But by this time all compunction -for my gallant neighbor had vanished in the delights of Miss Kerry's -society, and I was not to be balked so easily. - -“To-night I wish you to do me a favor,” I said, earnestly. - -“Yes? What is it?” she smiled. - -“I have a box at the Gaiety Theatre, and I should like a friend to dine -with me first, and then see the play.” - -As a matter of fact the box was not yet taken, but how was she to know -that? - -“And I am to be the friend?” she asked. - -“If you will be so kind?” - -“My uncle is coming, of course?” - -I smiled at her, and she beamed back at me. - -“We understand each other,” I thought. “But, my faith, how persistently -she keeps up this little farce!” - -Aloud I said: - -“Of course. Without an uncle by my side I should not even venture to -turn out the gas. Would you?” - -“Of course not!” she replied. - -And so it was arranged that at half-past seven we were to meet at this -same restaurant. In the mean time what dreams of happiness! - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XX - - -“_Virtue is our euphonism for reaction_.” - ---La Rabide. - - -[Illustration: 9207] - -ALF-PAST seven had just struck upon a church clock close by. Five -minutes passed, ten minutes, and then she appeared, more beautiful than -ever--irresistible, in fact. - -“But is this a private room?” she asked, as she surveyed the comfortable -little apartment with the dinner laid for two, and the discreet waiter -opening the wine. - -“It could not be more so, I assure you.” - -She glanced at the two places. “Isn't my uncle coming?” she demanded. - -I was prepared for this little formality, which, it seemed, spiced the -adventure for her. - -“At the last moment he was indisposed,” I explained, gravely; “but he -will join us for dessert.” The impossibility of gainsaying this, and the -attractiveness of the present circumstances--such as they were without -an uncle--quickly induced her to accept this untoward accident with -resignation, and in a few minutes we were as merry a party of two as -you could wish to find. Our jests began to have a more and more friendly -sound. - -“You do not care for this entrée?” I asked. - -“It is rather hot for my taste.” - -“Not so warm as my heart at this moment,” I declared. - -“What nonsense you talk!” she cried. “It has some meaning in French, -though, I suppose.” - -Yet she laughed delightfully. - -“Much meaning,” I assured her. - -“When was my uncle taken ill?” she asked, once. - -Our eyes met and we mutually smiled. - -“When you left his room with me,” I replied. - -And this answer seemed perfectly to satisfy her. - -“What do you do with yourself all day?” I asked. - -Again she laughed. - -“You will only laugh,” she said. - -“I shall be as solemn as a judge, a jury, and three expert witnesses,” I -assured her. - -“A friend and I are starting a women's mission.” - -I certainly became solemn--dumfounded, for one instant, in fact. Then a -light dawned upon me. - -“Your friend is a clergyman, I presume?” I asked. - -I had noticed the poster of an evening paper with the words “Clerical -Scandal,” and I suppose that put this solution into my head. - -“My friend is a she,” she replied, with a laugh. “Clergyman? No, thanks! -We are doing it all ourselves.” - -“Ha, ha!” I laughed. “I see now what you mean! Excellent! Forgive my -stupidity.” - -I did not see at all, but I supposed that there must be some English -idiom which I did not understand. Doubtless I had lost an innuendo, but -then one must expect leakage somewhere. Surely I was obtaining enough -and could afford to lack a little. - -At last we arrived at dessert. - -“I wonder if my uncle has come?” she said. - -“I have just been visited by a presentiment,” I replied. “General -Sholto has retired to bed. This information has been conveyed to me by a -spirit--the spirit of love!” - -She looked at me with a new expression. Ought I to have restrained my -ardor a little longer? - -“Does he know I am here?” she asked, quickly. - -“I assure you, on my honor, he has not the least notion!” I declared, -emphatically. - -“Then--” she began, but words seemed to fail her. “Good-night,” she -said, dramatically, but with unmistakable emphasis. - -She rose and stepped towards the door with the air of a tragedy queen. - -A thought, too horrible to be true, rushed into my heated brain. - -“Stop, one moment!” I implored her. “Do you mean to say that--that he is -_really_ your uncle?” - -Her look of indignant consternation answered the question. - -I sank into my chair, and, seeing me in this plight, she paused to -complete my downfall. - -[Illustration: 0210] - -“What did you imagine?” she asked. - -I endeavored to collect my wits. - -“Who did you think I was?” she demanded. - -“Mademoiselle,” I replied, “behold a crushed, a penitent, a ridiculous -figure. I am even more ignorant of your virtuous country than I -imagined. Forgive me, I implore you! I shall endow your mission with -fifty pounds; I shall walk home barefoot; you have but to name my -penance and I shall undergo it!” - -Whether it was that my contrition was so complete or for some more -flattering reason that I may not hint at, I cannot tell you to this day, -but certainly Miss Kerry proved more lenient than I had any right to -expect. Not that she did not give me as unpleasant a quarter of an -hour as I have ever tingled through. I, indeed, got “what for,” as the -English say. But before she left she had actually smiled upon me again -and very graciously uttered the words, “I forgive you.” - -As for myself, I became filled with a glow of penitence and admiration; -the admiration being a kind of moral atonement which I felt I owed -to this virtuous and beautiful girl. At that moment the seven virtues -seemed incarnate in her, and the seven deadly sins in myself. I was -in the mood to pay her some exaggerated homage; I had also consumed -an entire bottle of champagne, and I offered her--my services in her -mission to woman! I should be her secretary, I vowed. Touched by my -earnestness, she at last accepted my offer, and when we parted and I -walked home in the moonlight, I hummed an air from a splendid oratorio. - -Though the hour was somewhat late when I got in, it seemed to me -the commonest courtesy to pay another call upon General Sholto and -inquire--after his health, for example. I called, I found him in, -and not yet gone to bed as my presentiment had advised me, and in two -minutes we happened to be talking about his niece. - -It appeared that she was the orphan and only child of his sister, and -that for some years Kate and her not inconsiderable fortune had been -left in his charge, but from the first I fear that she had proved rather -a handful for the old boy to manage. - -“A fine girl, sir; a handsome girl,” he declared, “but a rum 'un if ever -there was. I'd once thought of living together, making a home and all -that; but, as I said, mossoo, she's a rum girl. You noticed her temper -this morning? Hang it, I was ashamed of her!” - -“Where is she, then?” I asked. - -“Living in a flat of her own with another woman. She is great on her -independence, mossoo. Fine spirit, no doubt, but--er--just a little dull -for me sometimes.” - -“She is young,” I urged, for I seemed to see only Miss Kerry's side of -the argument. “And you, General--” - -“Am old,” he said. “Hang it, she doesn't let me forget that.” - -Evidently, I thought, my neighbor was feeling out of sorts, or he would -never show so little appreciation of his charming niece. I must take up -my arms on behalf of maligned virtue. - -“I am certain she regards you with a deep though possibly not a -demonstrative affection,” I declared. “She does not know how to express -it; that is all. She is love inarticulate, General!” - -“It hasn't taken you long to find that out,” said he; but observing the -confusion into which, I fear, this threw me, he hastened to add, with a -graver air: “Young women, mossoo, and young men too, for the matter of -that, have to get tired of 'emselves before they waste much affection on -any one else.” - -I protested so warmly that the General's smile became humorous again. - -“You forget the grand passion!” I exclaimed. “Your niece is at the age -of love.” - -“Possibly a young man might--er--do the trick and that kind of thing,” - he replied. “But I don't think Kate is very likely to fall in love at -present--unless it's with one of her own notions.” - -“Her own notions?” I asked. - -“Well,” he explained, “the kind of man I'd back for a place would be a -good-looking cabby or a long-haired fiddler. She'd rig him out with -a soul, and so forth, to suit her fancy--and a deuce of a life they'd -lead!” - -No use in continuing this discussion with such an unsympathetic and -unappreciative critic. He was unworthy to be her uncle, I said to -myself. - -When I returned to my own rooms, I opened my journal and wrote this -striking passage: - -“_Illusion gone, clear sight returns. I have found a woman worthy of -homage, of admiration, of friendship. Love (if, indeed, I ever felt that -sacred emotion for any) has departed to make room for a worthier tenant. -Reason rules my heart. I see dispassionately the virtues of Kate Kerry; -I regard them as the mariner regards the polar star_.'”' - -I reproduce this extract for the benefit of the young, just as--to -pursue my original and nautical metaphor--they put buoys above a -dangerous wreck or mark a reef in the chart. It is on the same principle -as the awful example who (I am told) accompanies the Scottish temperance -lecturer. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXI - - - “_If you-would improve their lot_, - - _Put a penny in the slot!_” - - _English Song (adapted)_. - - -[Illustration: 9215] - -ERTAINLY John Bull is a singularly sentimental animal. I have said so -before, but I should like to repeat it now with additional emphasis. I -do not believe that he ever sold his wife at Smithfield, or, if he did, -he became dreadfully penitent immediately after and forthwith purchased -a new one. He is not a socialist; that is a too horribly and coldly -logical creed for him, but he enjoys stepping forth from the seclusion -of that well-furnished castle which every Englishman is so proud of, -and dutifully endeavoring to ameliorate the condition of the -working-classes. - -“England expects every man to do his duty,” he repeats, as he puts his -hand into his capacious pocket and provides half a dozen mendicants with -the means of becoming intoxicated. - -Oh yes, my kind English friends, I admit that I am putting it strongly; -but again let me remind you (in case you ever see these words) that if -I begin to be quite serious I shall cease to be quite readable. The -working-man, I quite allow, is provided with the opportunity of learning -the violin and the geography of South America and the Thirty-nine -Articles of the Anglican Church, besides obtaining many other -substantial advantages from the spread of the Altruistic Idea. You are -wiser than I am (certainly more serious), and you have done these deeds. -For my part, I shall now confine myself to recording my own share in one -of them. Only I must beg you to remember that for a time I was actually -a philanthropist myself, and as a mere chronicler write with some -authority. - -The mission of which I now found myself unpaid and unqualified secretary -was a recently born but vigorous infant; considering the sex for which -it catered, I think this simile is both appropriate and encouraging. The -credit of the inspiring idea belonged to Miss Clibborn, the friend with -whom my dark-eyed divinity shared a flat; the funds were supplied -by both these ladies and from the purses of such of their friends as -admired inspiring ideas or intoxicating glances; the office was in -an East London street of so dingy an aspect that I felt some small -peccadillo atoned for every time I walked along its savory pavements. By -the time I had spent a day in that office I could with confidence have -murdered a member of Parliament or abducted a clergyman's wife; so much, -I was sure, must have been placed to the credit side of my account, that -these crimes would be cancelled at once. - -Yet can I call it drudgery or penance to sit in the same room with Kate -Kerry, to discuss with her whether Mrs. Smith should receive a mangle -or Mrs. Brown a roll of flannel and two overshoes, to admonish her -extravagance or elicit her smiles? Scarcely, I fear, and I must base -my claims to any credit from this adventure upon the hours when she -happened to be absent and I had to amuse myself by abortive efforts to -mesmerize a peculiarly unsusceptible office cat. - -[Illustration: 0218] - -From this you will perhaps surmise that there was no great press of -business in our mission; and, indeed, there was not, or I should not -have been permitted to conduct its affairs so long; for I spent nearly -three weeks in furthering the cause of woman. As for our work, it -was really too comprehensive to describe in detail. All women in the -district, as they were informed by a notice outside our door, were free -to come in. Advice in all cases, assistance in some, was to be given -gratuitously. In time, when the mission had thoroughly established its -position and influence, these women were to be formed into a league -having for its objects female franchise, a thorough reform of the -marriage laws, and the opening of all professions and occupations -whatsoever to the gentler but, my employers were convinced, more capable -sex. In a word, we were the thin end of the Amazonian wedge. - -The strong brain which had devised this far-reaching scheme resided in -the head of Miss Clibborn. Concerning her I need only tell you that she -was a pale little woman with an intense expression, a sad lack of humor, -and an extreme distrust of myself. She did not amuse me in the least, -and I was relieved to find that her duties consisted chiefly in -propagating her ideas in the homes of the women of that and other -neighborhoods. - -As for Kate, she had entered upon the undertaking with a high spirit, a -full purse, and a strong conviction that woman was a finer animal than -man and that something should be done in consequence. In the course of a -week or two, however, the spirit began to weary a little, the purse was -becoming decidedly more empty; and, though the conviction remained as -strong as ever, one can think of other things surprisingly well in -spite of a conviction, and Miss Kerry's thoughts began to get a little -distracted by her secretary, I am afraid, while his became even more -distracted by Miss Kerry. - -Plato; that was the theme on which we spoke. A platonic -friendship--magnificent and original idea! We should show the astonished -world what could be done in that line of enterprise. How eloquently I -talked to her on this profound subject! On her part, she listened, she -threw me more dazzling smiles and captivating glances, she delivered -delightfully unconsidered opinions with the most dashing assurance, -she smoked my cigarettes and we opened the window afterwards. This was -philanthropy, indeed. - -Do you think I was unreasonably prejudiced in this lady's favor? Picture -to yourself soft lashes fringing white lids that would hide for a while -and then suddenly reveal two dark stars glowing with possibilities of -romance; set these in the midst of the ebb and flow of sudden smiles and -passing moods; crown all this with rich coils of deep-brown hair, and -frame it in soft colors and textures chosen, I used to think, by some -sprite who wished to bring distraction among men. Then sit by the hour -beside this siren who treats you with the kind confidence of a friend, -who attracts and eludes, perplexes and delights you, suggesting by her -glance more than she says, recompensing by her smile for half an hour's -perversity. Do this before judging me. - -But I am now the annalist of a mission, and I must narrate one incident -in our work that proved to have a very momentous bearing on that -generous inspiration of two women's minds. - -Kate and I had been talking together for the greater part of a -profitable morning, when a woman entered our austere apartment. - -She was one of our few regular applicants; a not ill-looking, plausible, -tidily dressed widow who confessed to thirty and probably was five years -older. - -“Good-morning, Mrs. Martin,” said Kate, with a haughty, off-hand -graciousness that, I fear, intimidated these poor people more than it -flattered them. “What do you want?” - -“Please, mum,” said Mrs. Martin, glancing from one to the other of us -and beginning an effective little dry cough, “my 'ealth is a-suffering -dreadful from this weather. The doctor 'e says nothink but a change of -hair won't do any good. I was that bad last night, miss, I scarcely -thought I'd see the morning.” - -And here the good lady stopped to cough again. - -“Well,” said Kate, “what can we do?” - -“If I 'ad the means to get to the seaside for a week, miss, my 'ealth -would benefit extraordinary; the doctor 'e says Margate, sir, would set -me up wonderful.” - -“You had better see the doctor, Miss Kerry,” I suggested. - -“Oh, I can't be bothered. I've seen him before; he's a stupid little -fool. Give her a pound.” - -[Illustration: 0221] - -“A pound, mum--” began Mrs. Martin, in a tone of decorous expostulation. - -“Oh, give her three, then,” said Kate, impatiently. - -Just as the grateful recipient of woman's generosity to her sex was -retiring with her booty, Miss Clibborn returned from her round of -duty. She was the business partner, with the shrewd head, the judgment -comparatively unbiassed, the true soul of the missionary. I give her -full credit for all these virtues in spite of her antipathy to myself. - -She overheard the last words of the effusive Mrs. Martin, demanded an -explanation from us, and frowned when she got it. - -“You had much better have investigated the case, Kate,” she observed, in -a tone of rebuke. - -“So I did,” replied Kate, with charming insolence. “I asked her whether -she went to church and why she wore feathers in her hat, and if she had -pawned her watch--all the usual idiotic questions.” - -“Kate,” said her friend severely, “this spirit is fatal to our success.” - -“Spirit be bothered!” retorted the more mundane partner. - -“Ladies,” I interposed amicably, “I have in my overcoat pocket a box of -chocolate creams. Honor me by accepting them!” - -Not even this overture could mollify Miss Clibborn, and presently she -departed again with a sad glance at her lukewarm ally and frivolous -secretary. - -Ah, how divine Kate looked as she consumed those bonbons and our talk -turned back to Plato! So divine, indeed, that I felt suddenly impelled -to ask a question, to solve a little lingering doubt that sometimes -would persist in coming to poison my faith in my friend. - -“I have been wondering,” I said, after a pause. - -“Wondering what?” - -“You remember that evening I met you in the Temple? I was wondering what -rendezvous you were keeping.” - -“What a funny idea!” she laughed. “I took a fancy to walk in the Temple; -that was all.” - -“And expected no one?” - -“Of course not!” - -At last I was entirely satisfied, so satisfied that I felt a strong and -sudden desire to fervently embrace this lovely, pure-hearted creature. - -But no; it would be sacrilege! I said to myself. She would never forgive -me. Our friendship would be at an end. The rules of Plato do not permit -such liberties. Alas! - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXII - - -“_To the foolish give counsel from the head; to the wise from the -heart!_” - ---Cervanto Y'ALVEZ. - - -[Illustration: 9224] - -VER since I became secretary I had been as one dead to my friends. -Except the General, I had seen none of them. One or two, including Dick -Shafthead, had called upon me, only to be told that I might not return -until long after midnight (for I was occasionally in the habit of dining -with one of my employers after my labors). When I thought of Dick, my -conscience smote me. I intended always to write to him, and also to -Lumme, to explain my disappearance, but never took pen in hand. I heard -nothing from France, nothing about the packing-case; nor did I trouble -my head about this silence. The present moment was enough for me. To -Halfred I had only mentioned that I was busily employed in a distant -part of London, and I fear my servant's vivid imagination troubled him -considerably, for he was earnestly solicitous about my welfare. - -“It ain't nothing I can lend a 'and in, sir?” he inquired one day. - -“I am afraid not,” I replied. - -He hesitated, uncertain how best to express his doubts politely and -indicate a general warning. - -“You'll excuse me, sir, for saying so,” he remarked at last, “but Mr. -Titch 'e says that furriners sometimes gets themselves into trouble -without knowing as 'ow they are doing anything wrong.” - -“Tell Mr. Titch, with my compliments, to go to the devil and mind his -own business,” I replied, with, I think, pardonable wrath. - -[Illustration: 0225] - -“Yes, sir; very good, sir,” said Halfred, hastily; but I do not know -that his doubts were removed. However I consoled myself for my want -of confidence in him by thinking that he had now a fair field with -Aramatilda. - -On the evening of that day when we had despatched Mrs. Martin to -the seaside, I returned earlier than usual and sat in my easy-chair -ruminating on the joys and drawbacks of platonic friendship. “Yes,” I -said to myself, “it is pleasant, it is pure--devilish pure--and it is -elevating. But altogether satisfactory? No, to be candid; something -begins to be lacking. If I had had the audacity this morning--what would -she have said? Despised me? Alas, no doubt! Yet, is there not something -delicate, ideal, out of all ordinary experience in our relations? And -would I risk the loss of this? Never!” - -At this point there came a knock upon the door, and in walked my dear -Dick Shafthead. - -“Found you at last,” he said. “Well, monsieur, give an account of -yourself. What have you been doing--burgling or duelling or what?” - -His manner was as cool and unpretentiously friendly as ever; he was the -same, yet with a subtle difference I was instantly conscious of. There -was I know not what of kindness in his eye, of greater courtesy in his -voice. Somehow there seemed a more sympathetic air about him. Slight -though it was, this something insensibly drew forth my confidence. -Naturally, I should have hesitated to confess my little experiment in -Plato and my improbable vocation to such a satirical critic. I could -picture the grim smile with which he would listen, the dry comments he -would make. But this evening I was emboldened to make a clean breast of -it, and, though his smile was certainly sometimes a little more humorous -than sympathetic, yet he heard me with a surprising appearance of -interest. - -“Then she's deuced pretty and embarrassingly proper?” he said, when I -had finished the outline of my story. - -“Indeed, my friend, she is both.” - -“Novel experience?” he suggested. - -“Entirely novel.” - -“And what's to be the end of it?” - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -“Going to marry her?” - -“Marry!” I exclaimed. “I have told you we are not even lovers. Dick, I -cannot tell you what my feeling is towards her, because I do not know -it myself. Yes, perhaps it is love. She has virtues; I have told you -them--her truth, her high spirit, her--” - -“Yes, yes,” interrupted Dick, with something of his old brutality, -“you've given me the list already. Let's hear her faults.” - -“She is so full of delightful faults I know not where to begin. -Perverse, sometimes inconsiderate, without knowledge of herself. -Divide these up into the little faults they give rise to in different -circumstances, and you get a picture of an imperfect but charming -woman.” - -“It is evident _you_ don't know what falling in love means,” said Dick. - -I looked at him hard. - -“Do you?” I asked. - -Dick actually blushed. - -“Well,” he replied, with a smile that had a little tenderness as well -as humor, “since you are a man of feeling, monsieur, and by way of -being--don't you know?--yourself, I might as well tell you. I've rather -played the fool, I expect.” - -He said this with an air of sincerity, but it was clear he did not think -himself so very stupid in the matter. - -“My dear friend,” I cried, “I am all ears and sympathy--also intelligent -advice.” - -And then the story came out. I shall not give it in Dick's words, for -these were not selected with a view to romantic effect, and the story -deserves better treatment. - -It appeared that, some twenty years before, a cousin of Lady Shafthead's -had taken a step which forever disgraced her in the eyes of her -impecunious but ancient family. She had, in fact, married the local -attorney, a vulgar but insinuating person with a doubtful reputation -for honesty and industry. The consequences bore out the warnings of her -family; he went from bad to worse, and she from discomfort to misery, -until, at last, they both died, leaving not a single penny in the -world, but, instead, a little orphan daughter. Of all the scandalized -relations, Lady Shafthead had alone come to the rescue. She had the girl -educated in a respectable school, and now, when she was nineteen years -of age, gave her a home until she could find a profession for herself. - -This latter step did not meet with Sir Philip's approval. He had -lent the father money, and in return had had his name forged for a -considerable amount; besides, he did not approve of bourgeois relations. -However, he had reluctantly enough consented to let Miss Agnes Grey -spend a few months at his house on the understanding that, as soon as -an occupation was found, that was to be the last of the unworthy -connection. - -At this stage in the story--about a fortnight ago--fate and a -short-sighted guest put a charge of shot into the baronet's left -shoulder. At first it was feared the accident might be dangerous; Dick -was hurriedly summoned home, and there he found Miss Agnes Grey grown -(so he assured me) into one of the most charming girls imaginable. -He had known her and been fond of her, in a patronizing way, for some -years. Now he saw her with tears in her voice, anxious about his father, -devoted to his mother, and all the time feeling herself a forlorn and -superfluous dependant. What would any chivalrous young man, with an -unattached heart, have done under these circumstances? What would I have -done myself? Fallen in love, of course--or something like it. - -Well, Dick did not do things by halves. He fell completely in love; -circumstances hurried matters to an issue, and he discovered himself -beloved in turn. Little was said, and little was done; but quite enough -to enable a discerning eye to see at the first glance that something had -happened to Dick. - -And here he sat, with his blue eyes looking far through the walls of my -room, and his mouth compressed, giving his confidence not to one of -his oldest and most discreet friends, but to one who could share a -sentiment. A strange state of things for Dick Shafthead! - -“It is an honorable passion?” I asked. - -“What the devil--” began Dick. - -“Pardon,” I interposed. “I believe you. But the world is complex, and I -merely asked. You are then engaged?” - -Dick frowned. - -“We haven't used that word,” he replied. - -“But you intend to be?” - -He was silent for a little, and then, with some bitterness, said: “My -earnings for the last three years average £37, 11s., 4d. I have had two -briefs precisely this term, and I am thirty years old. It would be an -excellent thing to get engaged.” - -“But your father; he will surely help you?” - -“He will see me damned first.” - -“Then he will not approve of Miss Grey?” - -“He will not.” - -“Have you asked him?” - -“No.” - -Again Dick was silent for a minute, and then he went on: “Look here, -d'Haricot, old man, this is how it is. I know my father; he's one of the -best, but if I've got any prejudices I inherit them honestly. What he -likes he likes, and what he doesn't like he doesn't like. He doesn't -like Agnes, he doesn't like her family--or didn't like 'em. He doesn't -like younger sons marrying poor girls. On the other hand, he does like -the 'right kind of people,' as he calls 'em, and the right sort of -marriage, and he does like me too well, I think, to see me doing what he -doesn't like. I have only a hundred a year of my own, and expectations -from an aunt of fifty-two who has never had a day's illness in her life. -You see?” - -“What will you do?” I asked. - -“What can I do?” he replied, and added, “it is pleasant folly.” - -His brows were knitted, his mouth shut tight, his eyes hard. He had come -down to stern realities and the mood of tenderness had passed. - -“But you really love her?” I said. - -His face lit up for a moment. “I do,” he answered, and then quickly the -face clouded again. - -“My friend,” I said, “I, too, have a friend--a girl, whom I place before -the rest of the world; I share your sentiments and I judge your case for -you. What is life without woman, without love? Would you place your -income, your prospects, the sordid aspects of your life, even the -displeasure of relations, before the most sacred passion of your heart? -Dick, if you do not say to this dear girl, 'I love you; let the devil -himself try to part us! I shall not think of you as the same friend.” - -He gave a quick glance, and in his eye I saw that my audience was with -me in spirit. - -“And my father? Tell him that too?” he said, dryly in tone, but not -unmoved, I was sure. - -“Tell him that your veneration, your homage, belongs to him, but that -your soul is your own! Tell him that you are not afraid to take some -risk for one you love! Are you afraid, Dick?” - -He gave a short laugh. - -“I'd risk something,” he replied. - -“Only something? And for Agnes Grey, Dick? Think of the future without -her, the life you have been leading repeated from day to day, now that -you have known her. Is that pleasant? Is she not worth some risk--a good -deal of risk?” - -He rose and then he smiled; and he had a very pleasant smile. - -“Thanks,” he said; “you're a good chap, monsieur. I wish you had to -tackle the governor, though.” - -“Let me!” I exclaimed. - -“Well,” he said, “if I want an eloquent counsel I know where to look for -one. Good-night.” - -“You will dare it?” I asked, as he went towards the door. - -“Shouldn't be surprised,” he answered, and with a friendly nod was gone. - -I said to myself that I had done a splendid night's work. Also I began -to apply my principles to my own case. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXIII - - -“_Old friends for me! I then know what folly to expect._” - ---La Rabide. - - -[Illustration: 9234] - -N the following morning Kate and I met as usual in the office of the -mission; and as usual she appeared three quarters of an hour after the -time she was nominally to be expected. She looked more ravishing than -ever; the art that conceals art had never more inconspicuously pervaded -every line and shade of her garments, every tress of her hair; her -smile opened up a long vista of possibilities. Again I strongly felt the -sentiments that had inspired me overnight; I could have closed the desk -on the spot and seized her hands; but I restrained myself and merely -asked instead what had become of her fellow-missionary. She was -indisposed, it appeared, and could not come to-day. - -“She's rather worried about our finances,” said Kate, though not in a -tone that seemed to share the anxiety. - -I had more than once wondered where the money was coming from and how -long it would last, but hitherto I had avoided this sordid aspect of the -crusade. - -“We can't go on any longer unless we get some more money,” she added. -“What with all my other expenses I can't run to much more, and Miss -Clibborn isn't very well off.” - -“My own purse--” I began. - -“Oh,” she interrupted, “we want a capitalist to finance us regularly, and -Miss Clibborn has found a man who may help if he approves of our work. -He is coming down this morning.” - -“What!” I exclaimed. “We are to be inspected by a philanthropist any -moment?” - -“Yes,” she said, with a laugh. “So you had better get out your papers -and look busy.” - -“Who is this benefactor?” I inquired, as I hastily made the most of our -slender correspondence. - -“I can't remember his name; but he is something in the city. Very rich, -of course.” - -“And if he refuses to help?” - -“Then we must shut up shop, I suppose,” she answered, with a smile -that was very charming even if somewhat inappropriate to this sad -contingency. “Shall you be sorry?” - -“Disconsolate!” I said, with more emotion than my employer had shown. - -The door opened and the head of our grimy caretaker appeared. - -“A gentleman to see you, miss,” she said. - -“Show him in,” said Kate. - -“The philanthropist!” I exclaimed, dipping my pen in the ink and taking -in my other hand the gas bill. - -A heavy step sounded in the passage, mingled with a strangely familiar -sound of puffing, and then in walked a stout, gray-whiskered, red-faced -gentleman whose apoplectic presence could never be forgotten by me. It -was my old friend, Mr. Fisher, of Chickawungaree Villa! - -“You are--ah--Miss Kerry?” he said, heavily, but with politeness. - -As she held out her hand I could see even upon his stolid features -unmistakable evidence of surprise and admiration at meeting this -apparition in the dinginess of East London. - -“Yes,” she said. “And you, I suppose, are--” - -“Mr. Fisher--a fisher of--ha, ha!--women, it seems, down here.” - -The old Gorgon was actually jesting with a pretty girl! As I thought of -him in his diningroom I could scarcely believe my senses. - -“And this gentleman,” he said, turning towards me, “is, I suppose--” - -He paused; his eyes had met mine, and I fear I was somewhat -unsuccessfully endeavoring to conceal a smile. - -“Fisher!” I said, holding out my hand. “How do you do?” - -He did not, however, take it; yet he evidently did not know what to do -instead. - -“Then you know Mr. Fisher?” said Kate. - -“We have met,” I replied, “and we could give you some entertaining -reminiscences of our meeting. Could we not, Mr. Fisher?” - -“What are you doing here?” said Fisher, slowly. - -“Atoning for the errors of a profligate youth,” I replied, “and -assisting in the education and advancement of woman.” - -For some reason he did not appear to take this statement quite -seriously. In England, when you tell the truth it must be told with a -solemn countenance; no expression in the face, nothing but a simple yet -sufficient movement of the jaws, as though you were masticating a real -turtle. A smile, a relieving touch of lightness in your words, and you -are instantly set down as an irreverent jester. - -“Miss Kerry,” he said, sententiously, “I warn you against this person.” - -“But--why?” exclaimed the astonished Kate. - -“I say no more. I warn you,” said Mr. Fisher, with a dull glance at me. - -“Come, now,” I said, pleasantly, for I recollected that the mission -depended on this monster's good-humor, “let us bury the pick-axe, as you -would say. The truth is, Miss Kerry, that Mr. Fisher and I once had a -merry evening together, but, unluckily, towards midnight we fell out -about some trifle; it matters not what; some matter of gallantry that -sometimes for a moment separates friends. She preferred him; but I bear -no grudge. That is all, is it not, Fisher?” - -And I gave him a surreptitious wink to indicate that he should endorse -this innocent version of our encounter. - -Unluckily, at this point Kate turned her back and began to titter. - -The overfed eye of Fisher moved slowly from one to the other of us. - -“I came down here,” he said, “at my friend Miss Clibborn's request -to--ah--satisfy myself of the usefulness of her mission. Is this a -mission--or what is it?” - -“It is a mission,” replied Kate, trying hard to sober herself. “We are -doing ex--ex--cellent work.” - -But at that point she had recourse to her handkerchief. - -“Our work, sir,” I interposed, “is doing an incalculable amount of -benefit. It is the most philanthropic, the most judicious--” - -I stopped for the good reason that I could no longer make myself heard. -There was a noise of altercation and scuffling outside our door that -startled even the phlegmatic Fisher. - -“What on earth is this?” he demanded. - -The door opened violently. - -[Illustration: 0239] - -“I can't 'old 'er no longer,” wailed the voice of our caretaker, and in -a moment more there entered as perfect a specimen of one of the Furies -as it has ever been my lot to meet. - -She was a woman we had never seen before, a huge creature with a bloated -face adorned by the traces of a recently blacked eye; her bonnet had -been knocked over one ear in the scuffle with the caretaker, and her raw -hands still clutched two curling-pins with the adjacent locks detached -from her adversary's head. - -“Madam,” I said, “what can we do for you?” - -I was determined to let Fisher see the businesslike style in which we -conducted our philanthropic operations. - -“Where is he? Where the bloomin' blankness is he?” thundered the virago. - -Poor Kate gave a little exclamation. - -“Leave her to me,” I said, reassuringly. “Where is who, my good woman?” - -“My 'usband. You've gone and stole my 'us-band away! But I'll have the -law on yer! I'll make it blooming hot for yer!” (Only “blooming” was not -the adjective she employed.) - -“Who are you, and what do you want?” said Fisher. - -There was something so ponderous in his accents that our visitor was -impressed in spite of herself. - -“My name is Mrs. Fulcher, and I wants my 'usband. Them there lydies -wot's come 'ere to mike mischief in the 'omcs of pore, hinnercent -wiminen, they've give Mrs. Martin the money to do it.” - -“To do what?” said Fisher. - -“To go for a 'oliday to the seaside, and she's took my 'usband with -her!” - -“Taken your husband!” I exclaimed. “Why should she do that?” - -“Because she ain't got no 'usband of her own, and never 'ad. _Missis_ -Martin, indeed! Needin' a 'oliday for 'er 'ealth! That's wot yer calls -helevatin' wimmen! 'Elpin' himmorality, I calls it!” - -“This is a nice business, young man!” said Fisher, turning to me. - -Unfortunately for himself he had the ill-taste to smile at this triumph -over his ex-burglar. - -“Oh, you'd larf, would yer!” shrieked the deserted spouse. “You hold -proflergate, I believe you done it on purpose!” - -“Me?” gasped Fisher. “You ill-tempered, noisy--” - -But before he could finish this impeachment he received Mrs. Fulcher's -right fist on his nose, followed by a fierce charge of her whole massive -person; and in another moment the office of the women's mission was the -scene of as desperate a conflict as the bastion of the Malakoff. Kate -screamed once and then shut her lips, and watched the struggle with a -very pale face, while I hurled myself impetuously upon the Amazon and -endeavored to seize her arms. - -“Police! Call the police!” shouted Fisher. - -“Perlice, perlice,” echoed his enemy. “I'll per-lice yer, yer dirty, -himmoral hold 'ulk!” - -And bang, bang, went her fists against the side of his head. - -“Idiot, virago, stop!” I cried, compressing her swinging arm to her side -at last. - -“Send for the police!” boomed the hapless Fisher. - -“Police!” came the frenzied voice of the caretaker at the front door. - -“I'll smash yer bloomin' 'ead like a bloomin' cocoanut!” shouted Mrs. -Fulcher, bringing the other arm into play. - -“Compress her wind-pipe, Fisher,” I advised. “Tap her claret! Hold her -legs! She kicks!” - -[Illustration: 0242] - -Such a contest was too fierce to last; her vigor relaxed; Fisher was -enabled to thrust her head beneath his arm, and I to lift her by the -knees, so that by the time the policemen arrived all they had to do was -to raise our foe from the floor and bear her away still kicking freely -and calling down the vengeance of Heaven upon us. - -My first thought was for the unfortunate witness of this engagement. - -“You are upset, Miss Kerry; you are disturbed, I fear. Let me bring you -water.” - -“I'm all right, thanks,” she replied, with wonderful composure, though -she was pale as a sheet by now. - -“But what is this?” I cried, pointing to a mark on her face. “Were you -struck?” - -“It's nothing,” she replied, feeling for her handkerchief. “She hit me -by mistake.” - -So engrossed was I that I had quite forgotten Fisher; but now I was -reminded by the sound of a stentorian grunt. - -“Ugh!” he groaned. “Get me a cab; fetch me a cab, some one.” - -Blood was dripping from his nose; his collar was torn, his cheeks -scarred by the nails of his foe; everything, even his whiskers, seemed -to have suffered. It would not be easy to persuade this victim of the -wars to patronize our mission now, but for Kate's sake I thought I must -try. - -“Well, Fisher,” I said, heartily, “you are a sportsman! Your spirit and -your vigor, my dear sir, were quite admirable.” - -For reply he only snorted again and repeated his demand for a cab. -Well, I sent one of a large crowd of boys who had collected outside the -mission to fetch one, and suavely returned to the attack. It was not -certainly encouraging to find that he and Kate had evidently exchanged -no amenities while I was out of the room, but, ignoring this air of -constraint, I said to him: - -“We shall see you soon again, I trust? We depend upon your aid, you -know. You have shown us your martial ardor! let us benefit equally by -your pacific virtues!” - -“I shall see myself--” began Fisher. Then he glanced at Kate and altered -his original design into, “a very long way before I return to this -office. It is disgraceful, sir; madam, I say it is disgraceful.” - -“But what is?” I asked. - -“Everything about this place, sir. Mission? I call it a bear-garden, -that's what I call it.” - -“I am sorry, Mr. Fisher,” began Kate, but our patron was already on -his way out without another word to either of us. And I had been his -rescuer! He slammed the door behind him, and that was the last of my -friend Fisher. - -For a moment or two we remained silent. “Well,” said Kate, with a little -laugh, “that's the end of our mission.” - -“The end, I fear,” I replied. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXIV - - -“_Do I love you? Mon Dieu! I am too engrossed in this bonnet to say._” - ---Hercule d'Enville. - - -[Illustration: 9245] - -N hour has passed since the departure of Fisher; the crowd outside, -after cheering each of the combatants down the street, has at last -dispersed; the notice at the door informing all females of our patronage -and assistance has been removed; the mission has become only a matter -for the local historian, yet we two still linger over the office fire. -Kate says little, but in her mind, it seems to me, there must be many -thoughts. She has recovered her composure and reflections have had time -to come. I, with surprising acumen and confidence, speculate on the -nature of these. Disillusionment, the collapse of hopes, and the chilly -thaw that leaves only the dripping and fast-vanishing remnants of -ideals; these are surely what she feels. As I watch her, also saying -little, her singular beauty grows upon me, and my heart goes out in -sympathy for her troubles, till it is beating ominously fast. “Yes,” - I say to myself, “this is more than Plato. I worship at the shrine of -woman. No longer am I a sceptic!” - -My sympathy can find no words; yet it must somehow take shape and reach -this sorrowing divinity. I lay my hand upon hers and she--she lets me -press her fingers silently, while a little smile begins to awake about -the corners of her wilful mouth. - -“Poor friend!” I exclaim, yet with gentle exclamation. “Yes, -disillusionment is bitter!” - -She gives her shoulders a shrug and her eye flashes into the fire. - -“It is not that,” she replies. “It's being made a beastly fool of.” - -For an instant I get a shock; but the spell of the moment and her -beauty is too strong to be broken. It seems to me that I do but hear an -evidence of her unconquerable spirit. - -“You have a friend,” I whisper, “who can never think you a fool. To me -you are the ideal, the queen of women. You may have lost your own ardent -faith in woman through this luckless experiment, but you have converted -me!” - -At this she gives me such a smile that all timidity vanishes. “Kate!” I -exclaim, and the next moment she is in my arms. - -For a silent five minutes I enjoyed all the raptures that a beautiful -woman and a rioting imagination can bestow. Picture Don Quixote -embracing a Dulcinea who should really be as fair of face as his fancy -painted her. Would not the poor man conceive himself in heaven even -though she never understood a word of all his passion? For the moment I -shared some of the virtues of that paladin with a fairer reason for my -blindness. Her soft face lay against mine, the dark lashes hid her -eyes, her form yielded to every pressure. What I said to her I cannot -remember, even if I were inclined to confess it now; I only know that -my sentiments were flying very high indeed, when suddenly she laughed. I -stopped abruptly. - -“Why do you laugh?” I asked. - -She raised her head and opened her eyes and I saw that there was -certainly no trace of sentiment in them. - -“You are getting ridiculous,” she said. “Don't look so beastly serious!” - -“Serious!” I gasped. “But--but what are you?” - -She smiled at me again as kindly and provokingly as ever. But the -veil of illusion was rent and it needed but another tear to pull it -altogether from my eyes. - -“You do not love me, then?” I asked, as calmly as I could. - -“Love?” she smiled. “Don't be absurd!” - -“Pardon!” I cried. “I see I have neglected my duties hitherto. I ought -to have been kissing you all this time. That would have amused you -better!” - -Ah, I had roused her now, but to anger, not to love. She sprang back -from me, her eyes flashing. - -“You insult me!” she cried. - -“Is it possible?” I asked, with a smile. - -Her answer was brief, it was stormy, and it was not very flattering to -myself; evidently she was genuinely indignant. - -And I--yes, I was beginning to see the ordinary little bits of glass -that had made so dazzling a kaleidoscope. I had been upbraiding Dulcinea -with not being indeed the lady of Toboso; and that honest maiden was -naturally incensed at my language. - -I fear that in the polite apology I made her, I allowed this discovery -to be too apparent. Again she was in arms, and this time with -considerable dramatic effect. - -“Oh, I know what you think!” she cried. “You think that because I don't -make a fuss about _you_, I have no sentiments. If you were worth it you -would see that I could be--” - -She paused. - -“What?” I asked. - -With the privilege of woman, she slightly changed the line of argument. - -“All men are alike,” she said, contemptuously. - -“Then you have had similar experiences before?” - -“Yes,” she replied, with a candor I could not help thinking was somewhat -belated. - -“In the Temple?” I asked. - -“He made a fool of himself, just like you,” she retorted. - -“Yet you assured me there was no one--” - -“What business had you with my confidence?” she interrupted. - -“I see,” I replied. “So you told what was not quite the truth? You were -quite right; people are so apt to misunderstand these situations. In -future I shall know better than to ask questions--because I shall be -able to guess the answers. Good-bye.” - -She replied with a distant farewell, and that was the end of a pretty -charade. - -I went away vowing that I should never think of her again; I lunched -at the gayest restaurant to assist me in this resolution; I planned a -series of consolations that should make oblivion amusing, even if not -very edifying; yet early in the afternoon I found myself in her uncle's -apartments, watching the old gentleman put the finishing touches to “A -portrait from memory of Miss Kate Kerry.” That picture at least did -not flatter! I had told him before of our ripening acquaintance and -my engagement as secretary, and I think the General had enough martial -spirit still left to divine the reason for my philanthropic ardor. -To-day he quickly guessed that something unfortunate had happened. - -“Had a row with Kate, eh?” he inquired. - -“A row?” I said, endeavoring to put as humorous a face on it as -possible. “General, I pulled a string, expecting warm water to flow, and -instead I received a cold shower-bath.” - -I fear I must have smiled somewhat sadly, for it was in a very kindly -voice that the old gentleman replied: - -“I know, mossoo; I know what it feels like. I remember my feelings when -a certain lady gave me the congé, as you'd say, in '62--was it?--or '63. -Long time ago now, anyhow, but I haven't forgotten it yet. Only time -I ever screwed my courage up to the proposing point; found afterwards -she'd been engaged to another man for two years. She might have told me, -hang it!--but I haven't died of broken heart, mossoo. You'll get over -it, never fear.” - -“But it is not that she is engaged; it is not that she has repulsed me. -She is your niece, General, but I fear her heart is of stone. She is a -flirt, a--” In my heat I was getting carried away; I recalled myself in -time, and added: - -“Pardon; I forget myself, General.” - -“I know, I know,” he replied. “I've felt the same about her myself, -mossoo. She's a fine girl; good feelings and all the rest of it, but a -little--er--unsatisfactory sometimes, I think. I've hoped for a little -more myself now and then--a little--er--womanliness, and so on.” - -“I cannot understand her,” I said. “I pictured her full of soul--and -now!” - -“I used to picture 'em full of soul, too,” said the General, “till I -learned that a bright eye only meant it wasn't shut and that you could -get as heavenly a smile by tickling 'em as any other way.” - -“General!” I exclaimed. “Are you a cynic, then?” - -“God forbid!” said the old boy, hastily. “I've seen too many good women -for that. I only mean that you don't quite get the style of virtue you -expect when you are--twenty-five, for instance. What you get in the best -of 'em is a good wearing article, but not--er--the fancy piece of goods -you imagine.” - -“In a word,” I said, as I rose to leave him, “you ask for a pearl and -you get a cheap but serviceable pebble.” - -“Well, well,” he replied, good-humouredly, “we'll see what you say six -weeks later.” - -“I have learned my lesson,” I answered. “You will see that I shall -remember it!” - -The reader will also see, if his patience with the experimental -philosopher and confident prophet is not yet quite exhausted. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXV - - -“_We won't go home till morning!_” - ---English Song. - - -[Illustration: 9252] - -ND now for a 'burst'!” I said to myself. - -Adieu, fond fancies; welcome, gay reality!” - -I dressed for the evening; I filled my purse; I started out to seek the -real friends I had been neglecting for the sake of that imaginary one. -But I had only got the length of opening my door when I smiled a cynical -smile. There was Halfred in the passage playing the same farce with -Aramatilda. They stood very close together, remarkably close together, -talking in low tones. - -“Thus woman fools us all,” I thought. - -With a little exclamation Miss Titch flew upstairs while Halfred turned -to me with something of a convicted air. - -“Miss Titch has been a-telling me, sir--” he began. - -“I know; I saw her,” I replied, eying him in a way that disconcerted -him considerably. “She has been telling you that woman is worthy of your -homage; and doubtless you believed her. Did you not?” - -“No, sir. She ain't said that exactly,” he answered; “though it wouldn't -be surprising, either, to hear 'er usin' them kind of words, considering -'er remarkable heducation. Wot she said was--” - -“That you will serve till she finds another,” I interposed. - -“Miss Titch, sir, ain't one of that kind,” he replied, with an air of -foolish chivalry I could not but admire in spite of myself. - -“Pardon, Halfred. She is divine; I admit it. What did she say, then?” - -“She says there's been a furriner pumpin' 'er about you, sir, this very -hafternoon.” - -“Pumping?” - -“Hashing questions like wot a Bobby does; as if 'e wanted hall the -correct facts.” - -“Ha!” I said. “And he asked them of a woman!” - -“Yes, sir; 'e comed up to 'er in the square and says 'e, 'You're Miss -Titch, ain't you?' and 'e gets a-talkin' to 'er--a very polite gentleman -'e was, she says--and then 'e sorter gets haskin' about you, sir, and -wot you was a-doing and 'oo your friends was, and about the General, -too. - -“And, in brief, he gossiped with her on every subject that would serve -as an excuse,” I said. “Halfred, if I were you and I felt interested in -Miss Titch--I say, supposing I felt interested in Miss Titch, I should -look out for that foreigner and practise my boxing upon him!” - -[Illustration: 9254] - -“Then you don't think, sir--” - -“I don't think it was me he was interested in.” - -“Well, sir,” said my servant, with a disappointed air, for he founded -great hopes of melodrama upon me, “in that case I shall advise Miss -Titch to take care of 'erself.” - -I laughed. - -“Do not fear,” I replied. “They all do that. It is we who need the -caution! Yes, Halfred, my sympathy is with that poor foreigner.” - -I fear my servant put down this sentiment to mere un-British -eccentricity, but I felt I had done my duty by him. - -As for the inquisitive foreigner, I smiled at the idea that he had -really addressed the fair Aramatilda for the purpose of hearing news of -me. I may mention that I had heard nothing more of Hankey; nothing from -the league; nothing had followed the arrival of the packing-case; the -French government seemed to have ignored my escapade; there were many -foreigners in London unconnected with my concerns; so why should I -suppose that this chance acquaintance of Aramatilda's had anything to do -with me? “If I am wanted, I shall be sent for,” I said to myself. “Till -then, revelry and distraction!” - -First, I sought out Teddy Lumme. We met for the first time since I -left Seneschal Court, but at the first greeting it was evident that all -resentment had passed from his mind as completely as it had from mine. - -“Where the deuce have you been hiding?” he asked me, with his old -geniality. “We wanted you the other night; great evening we had; Archie -and me and Bobby and Tyler; box at the Empire, supper at the European, -danced till six in the morning at Covent Garden; breakfast at Muggins; -and the devil of a day after that. I'd have sent you a wire but I -thought you'd left town. No one has seen you. Been getting up another -conspiracy, what? Chap at the French embassy told me the other day their -government expected your people to have a kick-up soon. By Jove, though, -he told me not to tell any one! But you won't say anything about it, I -dare say.” - -“I can assure you it is news to me,” I replied, “but in any case I -certainly should not discuss the matter indiscreetly.” - -“And now the question is,” said Teddy, “where shall we dine and what -shall we do afterwards?” - -Ah, it may be elevating and absorbing to experiment in Plato and guide -the operations of philanthropy, but when the head is not yet bald and -the blood still flows fast, commend me to an evening spent with cheerful -friends in search of some less austere ideal! This may not be the -sentiment of an Aurelius--but then that is not my name. - -We dined amid the glitter of lights and mirrors and fair faces and -bright colors; a band thundering a waltz accompaniment to the soup, a -mazurka to the fish; a babel of noise all round us--laughing voices, -clattering silver, popping corks, stirring music; and ourselves getting -rapidly into tune with all of this. - -“By-the-way,” I said, in a nonchalant tone, “have you seen Aliss -Trevor-Hudson again?” - -“No,” said Teddy, carelessly, and yet with a slightly uncomfortable air. - -“Did you become friends again? Pardon me if I am indiscreet.” - -“Hang it! d'Haricot,” he exclaimed; “I'm off women--for good this time.” - -“Then she was--what shall I say?” - -“She kept me hanging on for a week,” confessed Teddy, “and then suddenly -accepted old Horley.” - -“Horley--the stout baronet? Why, he might be her father!” - -“So Miss Horley thinks, I believe,” grinned Teddy. “His family are sick -as dogs about it.” - -“And hers?” - -“Oh, Sir Henry has twenty thousand a year; they're quite pleased.” - -I smiled cynically at this confirmation of my philosophy. - -“I say, have you got over your own penshant, as you'd call it, for the -lady?” asked Teddy. - -“My dear fellow,” I said, lightly, “these affairs do not trouble me -long. I give you a toast, Teddy--here is to man's best friend--a short -memory!” - -“And blow the expense!” added Teddy, somewhat irrelevantly, but with -great enthusiasm. - -“A short life and a merry one!” I exclaimed. - -“Kiss 'em all, and no heel-taps!” cried Teddy. “Waiter, another bottle, -and move about a little quicker, will you? Getting that gentleman's -soup, were you? Well, don't do it again; d'ye hear?” - -[Illustration: 0258] - -At this moment a piercing cry reached us from the other side of the -room. It sounded like an elementary attempt to pronounce two words, -“Hey, Teddy! Hey, Teddy!” and to be composed of several voices. We -looked across and saw four or five young men, most of them on their -feet, and all waving either napkins or empty bottles. On catching my -friend's eye their enthusiasm redoubled, and on his part he became -instantly excited. - -“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Excuse me one minute.” - -He rushed across the room and I could see that he was the recipient of a -most hilarious greeting. Presently he came back in great spirits. - -“I say, we're in luck's way,” he said. “I'd quite forgotten this was the -night of the match.” - -It then appeared that the universities of Oxford and Cambridge had been -playing a football match that afternoon and that on the evening of the -encounter it was an ancient custom for these seats of learning to join -in an amicable celebration of the event. - -“The very thing we want,” said Teddy. “Come on and join these men--old -pals of mine; dashed good chaps and regular sportsmen. Come on!” - -“But,” I protested, as I let him lead me to these “regular sportsmen,” - -“I am neither of Oxford nor Cambridge.” - -“Oh, that doesn't matter. Hi!” (this was to call the attention of his -friends to my presence). “Let me introduce Mr. Black, of Brasenose; -Mr. Brown, of Balliol, Mr. Scarlett, of Magdalen; Mr. White, of -Christchurch. This is my honorable and accomplished friend, Mr. Juggins, -of Jesus!” - -At this there was a roar of welcome and a universal shout of “Good old -Juggins!” - -“But indeed my friend flatters me!” I exclaimed. “I have not the honor -to be the Juggins.” - -No use in disclaiming my new name, however. Juggins of Jesus I remained -for the rest of that evening, and there was nothing for it but to live -up to the character. And I soon found that it was not difficult. All I -had to do was to shout whenever Mr. Scarlett or Mr. Black shouted, and -wave my napkin in imitation of Mr. White or Mr. Brown. No questions were -asked regarding my degree or the lectures I attended, and my perfect -familiarity with Jesus College seemed to be taken for granted. I do not -wish to seem vainglorious, but I cannot help thinking that I produced a -favorable impression on my new friends. - -“Juggins won the match for us,” shouted Mr. White. “Good old Juggins!” - -“I did, indeed. Vive la football! I won it by an innings and a goal!” I -cried, adopting what I knew of their athletic terms. - -“Juggins will make us a speech! Good old Juggins!” shouted Mr. Black. - -[Illustration: 0260] - -“Fellow-students!” I replied, rising promptly at this invitation, “my -exploits already seem known to you, better even than to myself. How I -hit the wicket, kick the goal, bowl the hurdle, and swing the oar, what -need to relate? Good old Juggins, indeed! I give you this health--to my -venerable college of Jesus, to the beloved colleges of you all, to my -respectable and promising friend, Lumme, to the goal-post of Oxford, to -love, to wine, to the Prince of Wales!” - -Never was a speech delivered with more fervor or received with greater -applause. After that I do not think they would have parted with me to -save themselves from prison. And indeed it very nearly came to that -alternative more than once in the course of the evening. - -[Illustration: 0262] - -We hailed two hansoms, and drove, three in each, and all of us -addressing appropriate sentiments to the passers-by, to a music-hall -which, as I am now making my début as a distinguished sportsman, I shall -call the “Umpire.” I shall not give its real name, as my share in the -occurrences that ensued is probably still remembered by the management. -It was, however, not unlike the title I have given it. - -My head, I confess, was buzzing in the most unwonted fashion, but I -remember quite distinctly that as we alighted from our cabs there was -quite a crowd about the doors, all apparently making as much noise -as they could, and that as we pushed our way through, my eyes were -fascinated by a bill bearing the legend “_NEPTUNE_--the Amphibious -Marvel! First appearance to-night! All records broken!” And I wondered, -in the seriously simple way one does wonder under such conditions, what -in the world the meaning of this cryptogram might be. - -We got inside, and, my faith! the scene that met our eyes! Apparently -the football match was being replayed in the promenade and on the -staircases of the Umpire. Three gigantic figures in livery--“the -bowlers-out” as they are termed--were dragging a small and tattered man -by the head and shoulders while his friends clung desperately to his -lower limbs. Round this tableau seethed a wild throng shouting “Oxford!” - -“Cambridge!” and similar war-cries--destroying their own and each -others' hats, and moved apparently by as incalculable forces as the -billows in a storm. On the stage a luckless figure in a grotesque -costume was vainly endeavoring to make a comic song audible; and what -the rest of the audience were doing or thinking I have no means of -guessing. - -“Oxford! To the rescue!” shouted Mr. Black. - -“Vive Juggins! Kick the football!” I cried, leading the onslaught and -hurling myself upon one of the bowlers-out. - -“Good old Juggins!” yelled my admirers, as they followed my spirited -example, and in a moment the house rang with my new name. “Juggins!” - could, I am sure, have been heard for half a mile outside. - -The uproar increased; more bowlers-out hurried to the rescue; and -I, thanks to my efficient use of my fists and feet, found myself the -principal object of their attention. Had it not been for the loyal -support of my companions I know not what my fate would have been, but -their attachment seemed to increase with each fresh enemy who assailed -me. - -At last, panting and dishevelled, my opera-hat flattened and crushed -over my eyes, the lining of my overcoat hanging out in a long streamer, -like a flag of distress, I was dragged free by the united efforts of Mr. -White and Mr. Scarlett, and for an instant had a breathing space. - -[Illustration: 0264] - -I could see that the curtain was down and the performance stopped; that -many people had risen in their places and apparently were calling for -the assistance of the police, and that from the number of liveries in -the mêlée the management were taking the rioters seriously in hand. In -another moment two or three of these officials broke loose and bore down -upon me with a shout of “That's 'im!” - -“Bolt, Juggins!” cried Mr. Scarlett. “We'll give you a start.” - -The two intrepid gentlemen placed themselves between me and my pursuers. -I stood my ground for a minute, but seeing that nothing could withstand -the onset of my foes, and that Mr. White was already on the floor, I -turned and fled. The chase was hot. I dashed down a flight of stairs, -and then, by a happy chance, saw a door marked “private.” Through it I -ran and was making my way I knew not whither, but certainly in forbidden -territory, when I was confronted by an agitated stranger. I stopped, and -would have raised my hat had it not been so tightly jammed upon my head. - -The man looked at me for a moment, and then seemed to think he -recognized my face. - -[Illustration: 0266] - -“You are Mr. Neptune?” said he. - -“You have named me!” I cried, opening my arms and embracing him -effusively. - -“I am afraid you got into the crowd,” said he, withdrawing, in some -embarrassment, I thought. “I suppose that is why you are late.” - -“That is the reason,” I replied, feeling mystified, indeed, but devoutly -thankful that he did not recognize me as the hunted Juggins. - -“Well,” he said, “you had better go on at once, if you don't mind. There -is rather a disturbance, I am afraid, and we have lowered the curtain; -but perhaps your appearance may quiet them.” - -“My appearance?” I asked, glancing down at my torn overcoat, and -wondering what sedative effect such a scarecrow was likely to have. -Besides, I had appeared and it had not quieted them; though this, of -course, he did not know. - -“I mean,” he answered, “that the nature of your performance is so -absorbing that we hope it may rivet attention somewhat.” - -A light dawned upon me. I now remembered the bill outside the theatre. -I was the “Amphibious Marvel!” Well, it would not do for the intrepid -Juggins to refuse the adventure. For the honor of Jesus College I must -endeavor to “break all records.” My one hope was that, as it was to be -my first appearance, anything strange in the nature of my performance -might be received merely as a diverting novelty. - -“The stage is set for you,” said my unknown friend. “How long will it -take you to change?” - -“Change?” I replied. “This is the costume in which I always perform.” - -He looked surprised, but also relieved that there would be no further -delay, and presently I found myself upon a huge stage, the curtain -down in front, and no one there but myself and my conductor. What was -I expected to do? I was sufficiently expert at gymnastics to make some -sort of show upon the trapeze without more than a reasonable chance of -breaking my neck. But there was no sign of any such apparatus. Was I, -then, a strong man? I had always had a grave suspicion that those huge -cannon-balls and dumb-bells were really hollow, and, in any case, I -could at least roll them about. But there were neither cannonballs nor -dumb-bells. No, there was nothing but a high and narrow box of glass. - -“It is all right, you will find,” said my conductor, coming up to this. - -I also approached it and gave a gasp. - -The box was filled with water--water about six feet deep! - -“I shouldn't care to dive into it myself,” he said, jocularly. “But I -suppose it is all a matter of practice.” - -“Do I dive in--from the roof?” I asked, a little weakly, I fear. - -“Did you mean to?” he replied, evidently perturbed lest their -arrangements had been insufficient. - -“Not to-night,” I said, with a sigh of relief. “But to-morrow night--ah, -yes; you will see me then!” - -He regarded me with undisguised admiration. - -“You are all ready?” he asked. - -“Quite,” I replied. - -We went into the wings and the curtain rose. - -“I time you, of course,” said my friend, taking out his watch. “You have -stayed under five minutes in Paris, haven't you?” - -I had discovered my vocation at last. The Amphibious Neptune was a -record-breaking diver. - -“Ten,” I answered, carelessly, and with such an air as I thought -appropriate to my reputation I walked onto the stage. - -“Gentlemen and ladies!” shouted my friend, coming up to the foot-lights. -“This is the world-famed Neptune, who has repeatedly stayed under water -for periods of from eight to ten minutes! He is rightly styled--” - -But at this point his voice was lost in such an uproar as, I flatter -myself, greets the appearance of few Umpire artistes. “Good old -Juggins!” they shouted. “Good old Juggins!” I was recognized now, and -I must live up to my reputation as the high-spirited representative of -Jesus College, Oxford. - -[Illustration: 0269] - -Kissing my hand to my cheering audience I mounted the steps placed -against the end of the tank, and with a magnificent splash leaped -into the water--I cannot strictly say I dived, for, on surveying the -constricted area of my aquatic operations, it seemed folly to risk -cracking a valuable head. - -Unluckily, I had omitted in my enthusiasm to remove even my top-coat, -and either in the air or the water (I cannot say which) I drove my -foot through the torn lining. Conceive now the situation into which my -recklessness had plunged me--entangled in my overcoat at the bottom of -six feet of water, struggling madly to free myself, with only a sheet -of transparent glass between me and as dry a stage as any in England; -drowning ridiculously in clear view of a full and enthusiastic house. -My struggles can only have lasted for a few seconds, though to me they -seemed longer than the ten minutes I had boasted of, and then--the good -God be thanked!--I felt the side of my prison yield to my kicking, -and in another moment I was seated in three inches of water, dizzily -watching a miniature Niagara sweep the stage and foam over the -foot-lights into the panic-stricken orchestra. - -“Down with the curtain!” I heard some one cry from behind, but before it -had quite descended the Amphibious Marvel had smashed his way out of his -tank and leaped into the unwilling arms of the double-bass. - -[Illustration: 0270] - -Ah! that was a night to be remembered--though not, I must frankly admit, -to be repeated. Another mêlée with the exasperated musicians; a gallant -rescue by Teddy and his friends; a triumphant exit from the Umpire borne -on the shoulders of my cheering admirers; all the other events of that -stirring night still live in the memory of “Good old Juggins.” To my -fellow undergraduates of an evening I dedicate this happy, disreputable -reminiscence. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXVI - - -“_So you pushed that little snowball from the top? And now it has -reached the bottom and become quite large? My faith! how surprising!_” - ---La Rabide. - - -[Illustration: 9272] - -T is an afternoon in December, gray and chilly and dark; neither the -season nor the hour to exhilarate the heart. I am alone in my room, -bending over my writing-table, endeavoring to relieve my depression upon -paper. - -Since my appearance upon the music-hall stage I have enjoyed the society -of my Oxford friends while they remained in town; I have revelled with -Teddy; I have had my “burst”; and now the reaction has come. The solace -of my most real and intimate friend, Dick Shafthead, is denied me, for -he has apparently left London for a time; at any rate, his rooms are -shut up and he is not there. No company now but regrets and cynical -reflections. A short time ago what bright fancies were visiting me! - -“Woman gives and woman takes away,” I said to myself. “But she takes -more than she gives!” I felt indeed bankrupt. - -[Illustration: 0273] - -Opening my journal and glancing back over rose-tinted, deluded eulogies, -I came to the interrupted entry, “To d'Haricot from d'Haricot.” Ah, that -I had profited by my own advice! “Foolish friend, beware!”--but he had -not. - -I took up my pen and continued the exhortation. - -“_What is woman? A false coin that passes current only with fools! Art -thou a fool, then? No longer!_” - -Just then came a tap at the door, followed by the comely' face of -Aramatilda. - -“A lady to see you, sir,” she said. - -I started. Could it be--? Impossible! - -“Who is she?” I asked, indifferently. - -“She didn't give her name, sir.” - -“Show her in,” I replied, closing my journal, but repeating its last -words to myself. - -Again the door opened. I rose from my seat. Did Kate hope to befool me -again? No, it was not Kate who entered and said, in a tone of perfect -self-possession: - -“Are you Mr. d'Haricot?” - -She was rather small, she was young--not more than two-and-twenty. She -had a very fresh complexion and a pretty, round little face saved from -any dolliness by the steadiness of her blue eyes, the firmness of her -mouth, and the expression of quiet self-possession. She reminded me of -some one, though for the moment I could not think who. - -“I am Mr. d'Haricot,” I replied. “And you?” - -“I am Aliss Shafthead.” - -“Dick's sister!” I exclaimed. - -“Yes,” she said, with a pleasant glimpse of smile that accentuated the -resemblance. “Have you seen him lately?” - -“Unfortunately, no.” - -She gave me a quick, clear glance as if to test my truth, and then, as -though she were satisfied, went on in the same quiet and candid voice: - -“I tried to find my cousin Teddy Lumme, but, as he was out, I have -taken the liberty of calling on you, because I know you are one of -Dick's friends--and because--” She hesitated, though without any -embarrassment, and gave me the same kind of glance again--just such a -look as Dick would have given, translated into a woman's eye. - -“Is anything the matter?” I asked, quickly. “Yes,” she said. “He has -left home and we don't know where he is.” - -“What has happened?” I exclaimed. - -“He has told you of Agnes Grey, I think?” she answered. - -“He has given me his confidence.” - -“Dick came home a few days ago, and became engaged to her. My father was -angry about it and now they have gone away.” - -She told me this in the same quiet, straightforward way, looking -straight at me in a manner more disconcerting than any suggestion of -reproach. It was I--I, the misanthrope, the contemner of woman, who had -urged him, exhorted him to this reckless deed! And evidently she knew -what my counsel had been. I could have shot myself before her eyes if I -had thought that step would have mended matters. - -“Then they have run away together!” I cried. “They have gone away,” she -repeated, quietly, “and, I suppose, together. I am afraid my father was -very hard on them both.” - -“And doubtless you have learned what ridiculous advice I gave him?” - -“Yes,” she replied, “Dick told me.” - -“And now you abhor me.” - -“I should be much obliged if you would help me to find them,” she -answered, still keeping her steady eyes upon my distracted countenance. - -“I ask your pardon,” I said. “It is help you want, not my -regrets--though, I assure you, I feel them. Have you been to his -chambers?” - -“Yes, I went and knocked, but I could get no answer.” - -“Perhaps they--I should say he--has returned by now. I shall go at once -and see.” - -“Thank you,” she replied, still quietly, but with a kinder look in her -eyes. - -“And you--will you wait here?” - -“Oh, I shall come, too, of course,” she said, and somehow I found this -announcement pleasing. - -As we drove together towards the Temple, I learned a few more -particulars of Dick's escapade. When he told his father his intention -of marrying Miss Grey, the indignation of the baronet evidently knew -no bounds, for even his daughter admitted that he had been less than -courteous to poor Agnes, and what he had said to Dick was discreetly -left to my imagination. This all happened yesterday; Agnes had retired, -weeping, to her bedroom, and Dick, swearing, towards the stables. The -orders he gave the coachman were only discovered afterwards; but his -plans were well laid, for it was not till the culprits were missing at -dinner that any one discovered they had only waited till darkness fell -and then driven straight to the station. No message was left, no clew -to their whereabouts. You can picture the state of mind the family were -thrown into. - -Morning came, but no letter with it, and by the middle of the day -Miss Shafthead could stand the suspense no longer, so, in the same -business-like fashion as Dick, without a word to her parents, she had -started in pursuit. The aunt she proposed to spend the night with was -not as yet informed that she was to have a visitor; business first, and -till that was accomplished my fair companion was simply letting fate -take charge of her. “With fate's permission, I shall assist,” I said to -myself. - -As we drew near to the Temple, she fell silent, and I felt sure that, -despite her air of _sang-froid_, her sisterly heart was beating faster. - -“Do you think they--I mean he--will have returned?” she said to me, -suddenly, as we walked across the quiet court. - -“Sooner or later he is sure to be in--if he is in London. May I ask you -to say nothing as we ascend the stairs, and to permit me to make the -inquiries?” - -She gave her consent in a glance, and we tramped up the old wooden -staircase till we stopped in silence before Dick's door. These chambers -of the Temple are unprovided with any bells or other means of calling -the inmates' attention beyond the simple method of knocking. If the -heavy outer door of oak be closed, and he away from home, or disinclined -to receive you, you may knock all afternoon without getting any -satisfaction; and it was the latter alternative I feared. At this -juncture I could imagine circumstances under which my friend might -prefer to remain undisturbed. - -For a moment I listened, and I was sure I could hear a movement inside. -Then I knocked loudly. No answer. I knocked again, but still no answer. - -“Stay where you are and make no sound,” I whispered to my companion. -“Like the badger, he must be drawn.” - -[Illustration: 0279] - -I fumbled at the letter-slit in the door as though I were the postman -endeavoring to introduce a packet, and dropped my pocket-book on the -floor outside. This I knew to be the habit of these officials when a -newspaper proved too bulky. Then, quietly picking up the pocket-book, -I descended the stairs with as much noise as possible, till I thought -I was out of hearing, when I turned and ran lightly up again. Just as -I was quietly approaching the top of the flight I saw the door open and -the astonished Dick confront his sister. I stopped. - -“Daisy!” he exclaimed, in a tone which seemed to be made up of several -emotions. - -“Dick!” she replied, her self-control just failing to keep her voice -quite steady. - -“Was it you who knocked?” he asked, more suspiciously than kindly. - -“No, Dick; it was I who look that liberty,” I answered, continuing my -ascent. - -He turned with a start, for he had not seen me. - -“You?” he said, sharply. “It was a dodge, then, to--” - -“To induce you to break from cover. Yes, my friend, to such extremities -have you driven us.” - -“In what capacity have you come?” he asked, with ominous coolness. - -“As friends,” I replied. “Friends who have come to place ourselves at -your service; haven't we, Miss Shafthead?” - -“Yes,” said she, “we are friends. Don't you believe me, Dick?” - -“Who sent you?” he asked. - -“I came myself.” - -“Does my father know?” - -“No.” - -Dick's manner changed. - -“It's very good of you, Daisy. Unfortunately--” here he hesitated in -some embarrassment--“unfortunately, I am engaged--I mean I have some one -with me.” - -At this crisis Miss Daisy rose to the occasion in a way that surprised -me, even though I had done little but admire her spirit since we met. - -“Of course,” she replied, with a smile; “I was sure you would have, -Dick, and I want to see you both.” - -“Come in, then,” he said. - -“And I?” I asked, with a becoming air of diffidence. - -“As I acted on your advice,” he answered, “you'd better see what you've -done.” - -We entered, and there, standing in the lamplight, we saw the cause of -all this mischief. She was a little, slender figure with a pretty little -oval face in which two very soft brown eyes made a mute appeal for -sympathy. There was something about her air, something about her demure -expression, something about the simplicity of her dress and the Puritan -fashion in which she wore her hair, that gave one an indescribably -quaint and old-fashioned impression, and this impression was altogether -pleasant. When she opened her lips, and in a voice that, I know not -how, heightened this effect, and with an expression of sweetness and -contrition said, simply: “Daisy, what must you think?” I forgot all my -worldly wisdom and was ready, if necessary, to egg her lover on to still -more gallant courses Daisy herself, however, capitulated more tardily. -She did not, as I hoped, rush into the charming little sinner's arms, -but only answered, kindly, indeed, yet as if holding her judgment in -reserve: - -“I haven't heard what has happened yet.” - -I gave a sign to Dick to be discreet in answering this inquiry, which he -however read as merely calling attention to my presence. - -“Oh, let me introduce Mr. d'Haricot--Miss Grey,” he said. - -So she was still Aliss Grey--and they had fled together nearly -four-and-twenty hours ago. I repeated my signal to be careful in making -admissions. - -“Where have you been?” said Daisy. - -“I have some cousins--some cousins of my father's--in London,” Agnes -answered. “I am staying with them.” - -“And you are living here?” I said to Dick. - -“Where else?” he replied, with a surprise that was undoubtedly genuine. - -“The arrangement is prudence itself,” I pronounced. “You see, Miss -Shafthead, that these young people have tempered their ardor with a -discretion we had scarcely looked for. I do not know what you intend to -do, but, for myself, I kiss Miss Grey's hand and place my poor services -at her disposal!” - -And I proceeded to carry out the more immediately possible part of this -resolution without further delay. - -The little mademoiselle was evidently affected by my act of salutation, -while Dick exclaimed, with great cordiality: - -“Good old monsieur; by Jove! you're a sportsman!” - -Still his sister hung back; in fact, my impetuosity seemed to have -rather a damping effect upon her. - -“What are you going to do, Dick?” she asked. - -“We are going to get married.” - -“What, at once?” - -“Almost immediately.” - -“Without father's consent?” - -“After what he said to us both--to Agnes in particular--do you think I -am going to trouble about his opinion?” - -“But, Dick, supposing we can get him to change his mind?” - -“Who is going to change it for him? for he won't do it himself--I know -the governor well enough for that.” - -“If I try to, will you wait for a little?” - -“It's no use,” said Dick. - -“Wait till we see, Dick!” - -“Yes, we shall wait,” said Agnes. “Dick, you will wait, won't you?” - -“If you insist,” replied Dick, though not very cordially. - -“Then you will try?” said Agnes. - -Daisy came to her side, took her hand, and kissed her at last. - -“Oh yes, I'll do my very best!” she exclaimed. - -There followed one of those little displays of womanly affection that -are so charming yet so tantalizing when one stands outside the embraces -and thinks of the improvement that might be effected by a transposition -of either of the actors. - -“What will you say?” asked Dick, in a minute. - -“I don't quite know,” replied Daisy, candidly. “I suppose I had better -say that--” - -She paused, as if considering. - -“Say that this is one of the matches made in heaven!” I cried. “Say that -not even a father has the right to stand between two people who love -each other as these do!” - -“By gad! Daisy,” said Dick, “you ought to take the monsieur with you. I -don't believe there'd be any resisting him.” - -“Let me come!” I exclaimed; “I claim the privilege. My rash counsels -helped to cause this situation; permit me to try and make the -atonement!” - -Daisy looked at me, I am bound to say, rather doubtfully. - -“He has a wonderful way with him,” urged Dick. “We can't do that kind of -eloquent appeal-to-the-feelings business in England, but it fetches us -if it's properly managed. You see, I don't want to fall out with the -governor. I know, Daisy, what a good sort he has been--but I am not -going to give up Agnes.” - -“If you think Mr. d'Haricot would really do any good--” said Daisy. - -“He can but try,” I broke in. - -“Please let him,” said Agnes, softly. - -Ah, I had not shown her my devotion in vain! - -“All right,” said Daisy. - -And so it was arranged that we were to start upon our embassy next -morning. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXVII - - -“_High Toryism, High Churchism, High Farming, and old port forever!_” - ---CORLETT. - - -[Illustration: 9285] - -HAT evening, when I came to meditate in solitude upon the appeal -I purposed to make, my confidence began to evaporate in the most -uncomfortable manner. Was I quite certain that I should be pleading a -righteous cause? Ah, yes; I had gone too far now to question my cause; -but how would my eloquence be received? Would it “fetch if properly -managed”? I tried to picture the baronet, and the more my fancy laid on -the colors, the more damping the prospect became. - -“Ah, well; Providence must guide me,” I said to myself at last. And in -a way that I am sufficiently old-fashioned--superstitious--call it what -you will--to think more than mere coincidence, Providence responded to -my faith. I could scarcely guess that my friend, the old General, who -came in to smoke a pipe with me, was an agent employed by Heaven, but so -he proved. - -[Illustration: 0286] - -“I want your advice,” I said. “What should I say, what should I do, -under the following perplexing circumstances?” - -And, without giving him any names, I told him the story of Dick. - -“Difficult business, mossoo, delicate affair and that sort of thing,” - he observed, when I had finished. “You say your friend is a pretty -obstinate young fellow?” - -“Dick Shafthead is obstinacy itself,” I replied, letting his name escape -by a most fortunate slip of the tongue. - -“Shafthead!” said the General. “By Jove! Any relation to Sir Philip -Shafthead?” - -“Since you know his name, and can be trusted not to repeat it, I may -as well say you that Sir Philip is the stern father in question. Do you -know him?” - -“Knew his other son, Major Shafthead. He is the heir, isn't he?” - -“Yes,” I said. “Dick is the second son.” - -“Ever met Tommy Shafthead--as we called him--the Major, I mean?” - -“No; he is stationed abroad, I believe.” - -“Heard about _his_ marriage?” - -“No,” I replied. “Dick has seldom mentioned him.” - -“I wonder if he knows,” said the General. - -“What?” I asked. - -“About Tommy's marriage.” - -“Is there a mystery?” - -“Well,” said the General, “it's a matter that has been kept pretty -quiet; but in case it may be any good to you to know, I might as well -tell you. Tommy was in my old regiment; that's how I know all about it. -When he was only a subaltern he got mixed up with a girl much beneath -him in station. His friends tried to get him out of it, but he was like -your friend, pig-headed as the devil. He married her privately, lived -with her for a year, found he'd made a fool of himself, and separated -for good.” - -“They were divorced?” I asked. - -“No such luck,” said the General. “He can't get rid of her. She's -behaving herself properly for the sake of getting the title, and -naturally she's not going to divorce him. So that's what comes of -marrying in haste, mossoo. Not that there isn't a good deal to be said -for a young fellow who has--er--a warm heart and wants to do the right -thing by the girl, and so forth. I am no Chesterfield, mossoo; right's -right and wrong's wrong all the world over, but--er--there are limits, -don't you know.” - -“Has Major Shafthead any family?” I inquired. - -“No,” said the General. - -“Then Dick will succeed to the baronetcy one day?” - -“Or his son.” - -“Ah,” I reflected, “I see now why Sir Philip is so stern. He would not -have a girl he dislikes the mother of future baronets, and he will not -allow the younger son to follow, as he thinks, in the elder's steps.” - -At first sight this seemed only to increase my difficulties; but as I -thought more over it, my spirits began to rise. Yes, I might make out a -good case for Dick out of this buried story. - -“Well, good-night, mossoo,” said the old boy, rising. “Good luck to -you.” - -“And many thanks to you, General.” - -The next morning broke very cold and gray. We were well advanced in -December, and the frost was making us his first visit for the winter; -indeed, it was cold enough to give Miss Daisy the opportunity of looking -charming in a fur coat when I met her at the station. Dick came to see -us off, and I must admit that I felt more responsibility than I quite -liked in seeing the cheerful confidence he reposed in me. - -“It is but a chance that I can do anything,” I reminded him. “I may -fail.” - -“No fear,” he replied. “I expect a pardon by return of post. By-the-way, -we got the manor of Helmscote in Edward the Third's time--Edward the -Third, remember--and the baronetcy after Blenheim. The governor doesn't -object to be reminded of that kind of thing if you do it neatly. But you -know the trick.” - -“I should rather depend on your sister's eloquence,” I suggested. - -“Oh, she's like me; can't stand on her hind legs and catch cake,” - laughed Dick. “We are plain English.” - -[Illustration: 0290] - -“Not so very plain,” I said to myself, glancing at my travelling -companion's fresh little face nestling in a collar of fur. - -She was very silent this morning, and I could now see that the -experiment of taking down an advocate inspired her with considerably -less confidence than it had Dick. - -“Confess the truth, Miss Shafthead,” I said to her, at last. “You fear I -shall only make bad into worse.” - -“I don't know what you will do,” she replied, with a smile that was -rather nervous than encouraging. - -“Command me, then; I shall say what you please, or hold my tongue, if -you prefer it.” - -“Oh no,” she said, “you had better say something--now that you have come -with me; only don't be too sentimental, please.” - -“I shall talk turnips till I see my opportunity; then I shall observe -coldly that Richard is an affectionate lad in spite of his faults.” - -Daisy laughed. - -“I think I hear you,” she replied. - -Well, at least, my jest served to make her a little more at her ease, -and we now fell to planning our arrival. She had left a note before she -started for town, saying only that she would be away for the night, but -giving no intimation of when she might return, so that we expected no -carriage at the station. This, we decided, was all the better. We should -walk to Helmscote, attract as little notice as possible on entering -the house, and then she would find out how the land lay before even -announcing my presence; at least, if it were possible to keep me in the -background so long. - -“My father is rather difficult sometimes,” she said. - -“Hasty?” I asked. - -“I'm afraid so.” - -“He may, then, decline to receive me?” - -“It is quite possible.” - -The adventure began to assume a more and more formidable aspect. I -agreed that great circumspection was required. - -At last we alighted at a little way-side station in the heart of the -country. We were the only travellers who descended, and when we had come -out into a quiet road, and watched the train grow smaller and smaller, -and rumble more and more faintly till the arms of the signals had -all risen behind it, and the shining steel lines stretched still and -uninhabited through the fields, we saw no sign of life beyond a cawing -flock of rooks. The sun was bright, the hoar-frost only lay under the -shadow of the hedge-rows, and not a breath of wind stirred the bare -branches of the trees. After a word of protest I took the fur coat over -my arm, and Daisy's bag in my hand, and we set out at a brisk pace to -cover the two miles before us. - -Presently a sleepy little village appeared ahead of us; before we -reached it my guide turned off to the left. - -“It is a little longer round this way,” she said, “but I am afraid the -people in the village might--well--” - -“Exactly,” I replied. “We are a secret embassy.” - -It was a narrow lane we were now in, winding in the shade of high -beech-trees and littered with their brown cast leaves. Whether it was -the charm of the place, or that we instinctively delayed the crisis now -that it was so near, I cannot say, but gradually our pace slackened. - -“I am afraid they will be rather anxious about me,” said Daisy. - -“If they value you as they ought,” I replied. - -She smiled a little, and then, in a minute, we rounded a corner, and she -said, “That is Helmscote we see through the trees.” - -I looked, and saw a pile of chimneys and gables close before us and just -a little distance removed from the lane. Along that side now ran a -high, ancient-looking wall with a single door in it, opposite the house. -Evidently this unostentatious postern was a back entrance, and the gates -must open into some other road. - -My fellow-ambassador paused and glanced in both directions, but there -was no sign of any one but ourselves. - -“I think it will be best if I leave you in the garden,” she said, “while -I go in and find mother.” - -“Yes, I think it will be wise,” I answered. - -She took out a key and opened the door in the wall, and I found myself -in an old flower-garden screened by a high hedge of evergreens at the -farther end. - -“Give me my coat and bag,” she said. “Many thanks for carrying them. Now -just wait here. I shall be as quick as I can.” - -I lit a cigar and began to pace the gravel path, keeping myself -concealed behind the bushes as far as I could. Decidedly this had a -flavor of adventure, and the longer I paced, the more did a certain -restlessness of nerves grow upon me. I took out my watch. She had been -gone ten minutes. Well, after all, I could scarcely expect her to return -so soon as that. I paced and smoked again, and again took out my watch. -Twenty minutes now, and no sign of my fellow-ambassador. I began to grow -impatient and also to feel less the necessity for caution. No one had -discovered me so far and no one was likely to; why should I not explore -this garden a little farther? I ventured down to the farther end, till -I stood behind the hedge. It was charmingly quiet and restful and sunny, -with high trees looking over the walls and rooks flapping and cawing -about their tops, and a glimpse of the house beyond. This glimpse was so -pleasing that I thought I should like to see more, and, spying a garden -roller propped against the wall and a niche in the stone above it, I -gave a wary look round, and in a moment more had scrambled up till my -feet were in the niche and my head looking over the top. - -Below me I saw a grass terrace and a broad walk, and beyond these -the mansion of Helmscote. No wonder Dick showed a touch of pride and -affection when (on very rare occasions, I admit) he had alluded to his -home. It was an old brick house of the Tudor period, though some parts -were apparently more ancient than that and had been built, I should say, -by the first Shafthead who had settled there. The colors--the red with -diagonal designs of black bricks through it, the stone of the mullioned -windows, the old tiles on the roof, the gray of the ancient portions, -even, I fancied, the green ivy--had all been softened and harmonized by -time and by weather till the whole house had become a rich scheme that -would have defied the most cunning painter to imitate it. - -“I know Dick better since I have seen his home,” I said to myself. “And -his sister? Yes, I think I know her better, too, though not so well as I -should like to. Pardieu! what has become of her?” - -“Well, sir,” said a voice behind me, “what, are you doing there?” - -[Illustration: 0295] - -I turned with a start, my grip of the wall slipped, and, with more -precipitation than grace, I descended to the garden again to find myself -confronted by a decidedly formidable individual. He was a gentleman of -something over sixty years of age, but tall and broad and upright far -beyond the common, and even though his left arm was in a sling of black -silk I should not have cared to try conclusions with him. His face was -ruddy and fresh, his features aristocratic and well-marked, his eyes -blue and very bright, and he was dressed in a shooting-suit and leather -leggings. The air of proprietorship, the wounded left arm, and the -family resemblance left me in no doubt as to who he was. I was, in fact, -about to enjoy the interview with Sir Philip Shafthead for the sake of -which I had entered his garden. - -Yet, strange though it may seem, gratitude for this stroke of good luck -was not my first sensation. - -“Who the devil are you, and what are you doing here, sir?” he repeated, -sternly. - -He had not heard of my arrival, then, and on the instant the thought -struck me that since he did not know who I was, I might make the -experiment of feigning ignorance of him. - -“I address a fellow-guest of Sir Philip's, no doubt? I said, with as -easy an air as is possible for a man who has just fallen from the top of -a wall where he had no business to have climbed. - -“Fellow-guest!” he repeated. “Do you mean to pretend you are visiting -Helmscote?” - -“I am about to; though I confess to you, sir, that Sir Philip is at -present unaware of my intention.” - -“Indeed?” said he. - -“Yes,” I said. “You are doubtless a friend of Sir Philip's, sir?” - -He emitted something that was between a laugh and an exclamation. - -“More or less,” he replied. “And who are you?” - -“My name is d'Haricot, and I am a friend of his son, Dick Shafthead.” - -He started perceptibly, and looked at me with a different expression. - -“I have heard your name,” he said. - -“As you are staying at Helmscote you have no doubt heard of Dick's -imprudence?” I went on, boldly. - -“I have,” he replied, shortly. “Have you come to see Sir Philip about -that?” - -“Yes,” I said. “I have travelled down with Miss Shafthead this morning; -she left me here for a short time while she went in to see her parents, -and while waiting I had the indiscretion to mount this wall, in order -to obtain a better view of the beautiful old house. It is the finest -mansion I have seen in England. No wonder, sir, that Dick is so attached -to his home!” - -“Yet, as you are aware, he has run away from it,” said the baronet, -dryly. - -“Ah,” I said, “you have doubtless heard the father's view of his -escapade. Will you let me tell you the son's, while I am waiting?” - -“Had you not better keep this for Sir Philip--that is, if he consents to -hear you?” - -“No,” I said, eagerly. “I have no secrets to tell, and if I can persuade -you that Dick has some excuse for his conduct, perhaps you, too, might -say a word to Sir Philip in his favor.” - -“It is unlikely,” said the baronet; “but go on.” - -At that moment I spied Daisy entering the garden, though fortunately -her father's back was towards her. Swiftly I made a signal for her to -go away, and after an instant's astonished pause she turned and slipped -quietly out again. I had been given a better chance than I had dared to -hope for. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXVIII - - -“_At the journey's end a welcome;_ - -_For the wanderer a friend!_” - ---Cyd. - - -[Illustration: 0299] - -IR I began, “I must tell you, in the first place, that there is this to -be said for Dick Shafthead--and it is an argument he is too generous to -use himself--he took counsel of a friend, who, perhaps rashly, urged him -to follow the dictates of his heart.” - -“Indeed?” said the baronet. - -“Yes; I can answer for it, because I was that friend; and that is one of -the reasons why I was so eager to plead for him with Sir Philip.” - -“It sounds a damned poor one,” said he. “'May I ask why you advised a -son to rebel against his father?” - -“If I had thought his father would regard his marrying the girl he -loved as an act of rebellion, I might--though I do not say I would--have -advised him otherwise. But he had told me that Sir Philip was a man of -great sense and understanding; therefore I argued that he would not take -a narrow or prejudiced--” - -“Prejudiced!” he exclaimed. - -“Or a prejudiced view of his son's conduct. I knew he was a good -churchman; therefore, as a follower of a Carpenter's Son, he could not -seriously let any blemish on a girl's pedigree stand between his son -and himself. Besides, he was so highly placed that an alliance with his -family would be sufficient to ennoble. Furthermore, as he loves his -son, he would wish for nothing so much as his happiness. Lastly, being -a great gentleman, Sir Philip would give a lady's case every -consideration.” But at this the baronet's feelings could no longer be -contained. - -“By God, sir!” he exclaimed. “Do you mean to say you preached this -damnable sermon to my--to Dick Shafthead?” - -I had not preached this sermon, nor anything very much like it; but -these were undoubted the arguments I ought to have used. - -“I argued from what he had told me of his father,” I replied. “If I -am incorrect in my estimate of Sir Philip; if he is not a Christian, a -gentleman, an affectionate father, and a man of sense, then, indeed, I -reasoned wrongly.” - -At this thrust beneath his guard, Sir Philip was silent, and I hastened -to follow up my attack. - -“Another argument I used--and it seemed to me the strongest--was this: -that as Dick had told me of the deep affection Sir Philip felt for -Lady Shafthead, I knew his father had a heart which could love a woman -devotedly, and he had but to turn back the pages of his own life to find -himself reading the same words as his son.” - -“Sir Philip loved a lady of his own degree and station,” he answered. - -“And Dick a relative of that lady,” I said. “A girl with the same blood -in her veins, and a character which no one can impeach. Can Sir Philip?” - -“Her character is beside the point,” said he. - -“Dick's father would not say so of his son's wife,” I retorted. - -Again the baronet seemed at a loss for a fitting answer; and from his -expression I think he was on the point of revealing his identity, and -sending me forthwith to the devil; but without a pause I hurried up the -rest of my artillery. - -“Even if Sir Philip remains deaf to all that I have hitherto said, -there yet remains this, which must, at least, make him pause. He will be -losing a son.” - -“And the son will be losing his father.” - -“Yes; and therefore Sir Philip will not only be suffering, but -inflicting a misfortune.” - -“I may remind you, sir, that Dick has only to listen to reason.” - -“Dick's mind is made up; and can you, sir, who know these Shaftheads, -expect them to abandon their resolutions so easily? From whom has he -inherited his firmness and tenacity? From his father, of course; and -he from that long line of ancestors who have made the name of Shafthead -honorable since the days of Edward the Third! The warrior who was -ennobled on the field of Blenheim has not left descendants of milk and -water!” - -“I am perfectly aware that Dick is obstinate as the devil,” replied the -baronet, but this time in a tone that seemed to have in it a trace of -something not unlike satisfaction. - -“And so, sir, his father will be ruthlessly discarding a second -daughter-in-law.” - -At these words the change that came over the baronet was so sudden and -violent that I almost repented of having uttered them. - -“What do you mean?” he exclaimed, in a stifled voice. “Dick didn't tell -you? He does not know!” - -“No,” I replied. “I learned it through an old companion in arms of Major -Shafthead.” - -For a moment there was a pause. Then he said, in a steadier voice: - -“And does this seem to you an argument for permitting another son to -commit an act of folly?” - -“It does seem an argument for not breaking the last link with the -generation to come.” - -The baronet turned round and walked a few paces away from me; then he -turned back and said: - -“Well, sir, if it is any satisfaction to you, I may tell you that you -have already discharged your task. I am Sir Philip Shafthead.” - -“What!” I exclaimed, in simulated surprise. “Then I must indeed ask your -pardon for the freedom with which I have spoken. My affection for your -son is my only excuse.” - -“He is fortunate in his friends, sir,” said Sir Philip, though with -precisely what significance I could not be sure. “You will now have -luncheon with us, I hope.” - -We walked in silence to the house, my host's face expressing nothing of -what he thought or felt. - -In a long, low room whose oak panelling and beams were black with age -and whose windows tinged the sunshine with the colors of old coats of -arms, I was introduced to Lady Shafthead. She was like her daughter, -smaller and slighter than the muscular race of Shaftheads, gray-haired -and very charming and simple in her manner. Daisy stood beside her, and -both women glanced anxiously from one to the other of us. What those -who knew him could read in Sir Philip's countenance, I cannot say. -For myself, I merely professed my entire readiness for lunch and my -appreciation of Helmscote, but, surreptitiously catching Daisy's eye, -I gave her a glance that was intended to indicate a fair possibility of -fine weather. - -Evidently she read it as such, for she replied by a smile from which all -her distrust had vanished. - -The meal passed off in outward calm and with no reference to the -conversation of the morning. Indeed, Sir Philip scarcely spoke at all, -and I was too afraid of making a discordant remark to say much myself. - -“You will excuse me from joining you in the smoking-room at present,” - said the baronet, when we had finished. “Daisy, you will act as hostess, -perhaps?” - -Nothing could have suited me better than this arrangement, and for an -hour we discussed our embassy and its prospects with the friendliness of -two intimates who have shared an adventure. - -Then Lady Shafthead entered and said with a smile towards us both, - -“Sir Philip has written to Dick.” - -“He is forgiven?” I cried. - -“He is told to come home.” - -“Alone?” - -“Yes, alone.” - -My face fell for a little, but Lady Shafthead's air reassured me. - -“For the present, at all events, alone,” she said. - -“And may the present be brief!” I replied. “And now his ambassador must -regretfully return to town.” - -“Oh, but you are staying with us, I hope,” said Lady Shafthead. - -“With one collar, a tweed suit, and no razors?” - -“Can't you send for your things?” suggested Daisy. - -And that is precisely what I did. - -The next day the prodigal returned and had a long interview with his -stern parent. At the end of it he joined me in the smoking-room. - -“Well?” I asked. - -“An armistice is declared,” said Dick. “For six months the matter is not -to be mentioned.” - -“And that is all?” - -“All at present.” - -“But six months, Dick! Can you wait?” - -“Call it three weeks,” said Dick. “I know the limit to the governor's -patience. He never let a matter remain unsettled for one month in his -life.” He filled his pipe deliberately, standing with his legs wide -apart and his broad back to the fire, while an expression of amused -satisfaction gathered upon his good-looking countenance. - -“I say,” he remarked, abruptly, “don't think I'm ungrateful. You did the -trick, monsieur, and I won't forget it in a hurry.” - -As he said this he turned his back to me and took a match-box from the -mantel-shelf, as though he had merely made a casual remark about the -weather, but by this time I knew the value of such undemonstrative -British thanks. - -Another condition that Sir Philip had made was that his son should not -return to London until the Christmas vacation was over, and, though this -was a matter of merely two or three weeks, Dick found it harder than a -six months' postponement of his marriage. But to me, I fear, it did -not seem so unreasonable, for, as he could not have his sweetheart's -company, he insisted on retaining mine; so, after a polite protest, -which Lady Shafthead declared to be unnecessary and Daisy to be absurd, -I settled down to spend my Christmas at Helmscote. - -At that time there was no one else staying in the house, so that when I -sat down at dinner that night, one of a friendly company of five, I felt -almost as though I was a member of the family. And the Shaftheads, on -their part, seemed bent on increasing this illusion. Once I cheerfully -alluded to my exile--cheerfully, because at that moment the thought had -no sting. - -“An exile?” said Lady Shafthead, smiling at me as a good mother might -smile. “Not here, surely. You must not feel yourself an exile here.” - -And, indeed, I did not. For the first time since I landed in this -country, I felt no trace of strangeness, but almost as though I had -begun to take root in the soil. Circumstances had not enabled me to -enjoy any family life since I was a boy, and had I been given at that -moment a free pardon and a ticket to Paris, I should have said, “Wait, -please, for a few months, till I discover to which nation I really -do belong. Here I am at home. Perhaps, if I return, I should now be -lonely.” - -The very look of my room when I retired to bed impressed me further with -this feeling. The fire was so bright, the curtains so warm, every -little circumstance so soothing. I drew up the blind and looked out of a -latticed casement-window into a garden bathed in moonlight, and my heart -was filled with gratitude. Last thing before I went to sleep, I remember -seeing the firelight playing on the walls and mingling with a long ray -from the moon, and the fantastic designs seemed to form themselves into -letters making a message of welcome. And this message was signed “Daisy -Shafthead.” - -At what hour I woke I cannot say; but I felt as though I had not been -long asleep, and that something must have roused me. The fire had burned -low, but the long beam of moonlight still fell across my bed and made -a patch of light on the opposite wall. Suddenly it was obscured, and at -the same moment I most distinctly heard a noise--a noise at the window. -I turned on my pillow with that curious sensation in my breast that by -the metaphysical may easily be distinguished from exhilaration. I had -left the curtains a little apart with an oblong of blind showing light -between them. Now there was a dark body moving stealthily either before -or behind this. - -For a moment I lay still, then, with a spring so violent as almost to -suggest that I had exercised some compulsion upon my movements, I leaped -out of bed. - -[Illustration: 0308] - -The next instant the body had disappeared, and I heard a scraping noise, -apparently on the outside wall. I rushed to the window and drew aside -the blind. The casement was certainly open, but then I had left it so. -I put out my head and looked carefully over the garden. Not a movement -anywhere, not a sound. I waited for a time, but nothing more happened, -and then I went to bed again, first, I confess, closing and fastening -the window; and in a little the whole incident was lost in oblivion. - -With the prosaic entry of daylight and a servant to fill my bath, I -began to wonder whether the whole thing was not a dream, and, in fact, -I had almost persuaded myself that this was the case when I spied, -lying on the floor below the window, a slip of paper. It was folded and -addressed in pencil to “_M. d'Haricot, confidential._” I opened it and -read these words: - -“_Beware how you betray! Lumme also is watched. Therefore be faithful, -if it is not too late!_” - -“What the devil!” I said to myself, after reading these incomprehensible -words two or three times. “Is this a practical joke--or can it be -from--?” I hastily turned the scrap over, looked at it upside down, and -against the light, but no, there was no mark to give me a clew. - -So meaningless did the warning seem that before the day was far spent it -had ceased to trouble me. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXIX - - -“_Enter Tritculento brandishing a rapier. Ordnance shot off 'without._” - ---Old Stage Direction. - - -[Illustration: 9311] - -HAT day slipped by smoothly and swiftly as a draught of some delicious -opiate, and every moment my fancy became anchored more securely to -Helmscote. But upon the next morning I received a letter from my Halfred -which, though it amused and moved me by the good fellow's own happiness, -yet contained one perplexing piece of news. I give the epistle in his -own words and spelling. - -“_DEAR Sir,--Hopping the close reached you safely i added the waterprove -coat for shooting in rain supposing such happened. Miss Titch has -concented to marry me some day but not now you being sir the objec of my -attentions for the present hence i am happy beyond expression also -she is and i hop you approve sir. Another package has come for Mister -Balfour not to be oppened and marked u d t which Mr. Titch says means -undertake to return but I have done nothing hopping I am right yours -obediently ALFRED WINKES._” - -No, Halfred, U. D. T. did not mean “Undertake to return,” but bore a -much graver significance, and this news made me so thoughtful that at -least one pair of bright eyes remarked it at breakfast. - -“No bad news, I hope,” said Daisy, as we went together to the door to -inspect the weather. - -“None that you cannot make me forget,” I replied, with a more serious -gallantry than I had yet shown towards her. - -A little rise of color in her face did indeed make me forget all less -absorbing matters. - -“By the time you leave us, you perhaps won't find us still so -consoling,” she replied, with a smile. - -“Don't remind me of that day,” I said. “It is a long way off--a hundred -years, I try to persuade myself!” - -Little did I think how soon fate would laugh at my confidence. - -To-day we were to shoot pheasants. The baronet had his arm out of the -sling for the first time, and this so raised his spirits that I felt -sure Dick's six months' probation were already divided by two, at least. -Two friends were coming from a neighboring house, and the other gun -was to be my second, Tonks, who was expected to stay for the night. -Presently he appeared and greeted me with a friendly grin. - -“You haven't got Lumme to fire at to-day,” he remarked. - -I drew him aside. - -“Tonks,” I said, “that incident is forgotten--also the cause of it. You -understand?” - -He had the uncomfortable perspicacity to glance over at Daisy as he -replied: - -“Right O; I won't spoil any one's sport.” - -This game of pheasant-shooting is played in England with that gravity -and seriousness that the Briton displays in all his sports. No -preparations are wanting, no precautions omitted. You stand in a -specially prepared opening in a specially grown plantation, while a -specially trained company of beaters scientifically drive towards you -several hundred artificially incubated birds invigorated by a patent -pheasant food. Owing to the regulated height of the trees and the -measured distance at which you stand these birds pass over you at such a -height (and, owing to the qualities of the patent food, at such a pace), -and the shot is rendered what they call “sporting.” Then, at a certain -distance from his gun and a certain angle, the skilful marksman -discharges both barrels, converts two pheasants into collapsed bundles -of feathers, snatches a second gun from an attendant, and in precisely -similar fashion accounts for two more. The flight of the bird is so -calculated that the bad shot has little chance of hitting anything at -all, so that the pheasant may return to his coop and be preserved intact -for another day. When such a shot is firing, you will hear the host -anxiously say to the keeper at the end of the day: “Did he miss them all -clean?” - -And if the answer is in the affirmative, he will add: - -“Excellent! I shall ask him to shoot again.” - -A clean miss or a clean kill--that is what is demanded in order that you -may strictly obey the rules of the sport, and at my first stand, where -I was able to exhibit five severed tails, a mangled mass which had -received both barrels at three paces, and seven swiftly running -invalids, my enthusiasm was quickly damped by the face Sir Philip pulled -on hearing my prowess. - -“Never mind,” said Daisy, who had come to see the sport, “you couldn't -expect to get into it just at first.” - -“Come and give me instruction,” I implored her. “Don't be in such a -hurry!” she cried, as she stood beside me at the next beat. “Look before -you shoot--that's what Dick always says you ought to do. Now you've -forgotten to put in your--wait! Of course! No wonder nothing happened; -you had forgotten to put in the cartridges. Steady, now. Oh, but don't -wait till it's past you! Dick says--Good shot! Was that the bird you -aimed at?” - -“Mademoiselle, it was the bird a far-seeing Providence placed within the -radius of my shot. 'L'homme propose; Dieu dispose.'” - -“I shouldn't trust to Providence _too_ much,” said she. - -Well, between Heaven and Miss Shafthead, aided, I must say for myself, -by a hand and eye that were naturally quick and not unaccustomed to -exercises of skill, I managed by the end of the day to successfully -uphold the honor of my country. The light was fading when we stopped -the battue, the air was sharp, and the ground crisp with frost. My fair -adviser had gone home a little time before, and, wrapped in pleasant -recollections and meditations, I had fallen some way behind the others -as we walked homeward across a stubble-field. The guns in front passed -out through a gate into a lane, and I was just following them when a man -stepped from the shadow of the hedge and said to me: - -“A gentleman would speak to you.” - -I looked at him in astonishment. - -He was an absolute stranger, and his manner was serious and impressive. -Behind him, in the opposite direction from that in which my friends had -turned, stood a covered carriage, with another man wrapped in a cloak -a few paces in front of it, and a third individual holding the horse's -head. - -“That is the gentleman,” added the stranger, indicating the man in the -cloak. - -In considerable surprise I turned towards the carriage. - -“M. d'Haricot,” said the shrouded individual. - -“M. le Marquis!” I cried, in astonishment. - -It was indeed none other than he whom I have before mentioned under -the name of F. II, secretary of the league, conspirator by instinct and -profession, by rank and name the Marquis de la Carrabasse. - -“What are you doing here, my dear Marquis?” I exclaimed. - -He regarded me with a fixed and searching expression. - -“The hour is ripe,” he said. “The moment has come to strike! Here is my -carriage. Come!” - -For a moment I was too astonished to reply. Then, in a reasonable tone, -I said: - -“Pardon, Marquis, but I must first take leave of my hosts.” - -“You cannot.” - -“That is to be seen,” I replied, losing my temper a little. - -Before I could make a movement the Marquis was covering me with a -revolver, and from the corner of my eye I could see that the man who had -first spoken to me had drawn one, too. - -“Enter the carriage,” said the Marquis. “I do not trust you.” - -[Illustration: 0317] - -“Since you give me no alternative between a somewhat prolonged rest in -this ditch and the pleasure of your society, I shall choose the latter,” - I replied, with as light an air as possible. “But I warn you, Marquis, -that this conduct requires an explanation.” - -He continued to look sternly at me, holding his revolver to my head, but -making no reply, while, in as easy a fashion as possible, I strolled up -to the carriage. - -Then, to my surprise, I saw that they had employed one of the beaters to -hold their horse, a man whom I recognized at once as having carried my -cartridge-bag. - -“You may now go,” said the Marquis to this man, handing him coin. “And -for your own sake be silent!” - -I could have laughed aloud at the delightful simplicity of thus hiring a -stranger at random to aid in an abduction and then expecting him to -keep his counsel, had I not seen in it an omen of further failures. So -certain was I that the news of my departure would now reach Helmscote -before night that I did not even trouble to send a message by him. - -The man who had first spoken to me jumped upon the box and took the -reins, the Marquis and I entered the carriage, and through the dusk of -that winter evening I was carried off from Helmscote. - -“Now, M. le Marquis,” I said, sternly, “have the goodness to explain -your words and conduct to me.” - -He looked at me intently for a moment and then answered: - -“On your honor, are you still faithful?” - -“What do you mean, monsieur?” - -“Lumme has not betrayed us?” - -“Lumme!” I exclaimed, in astonishment, and then suddenly remembered the -warning paper. “Did you throw that paper into my bedroom?” - -“An agent threw it for me. Did you obey the warning?” - -“Again I must ask for an explanation. What has M. Lumme to do with it -and what do you suspect me of?” - -“M. Lumme is in the English Foreign Office,” said the Marquis, with -emphasis. - -[Illustration: 0319] - -“And you suspect me of having betrayed my cause to him? On my honor, -monsieur, even were I inclined to treason I should as soon think of -confiding in that man whom you so rashly employed to hold your horse!” - -“Sir Shafthead is in the English government.” said the Marquis, unmoved -by my sarcasm. - -“Sir Philip Shafthead was at one time a member of Parliament, but is so -no longer. But what of that?” - -“You have told him nothing?” - -“I have not.” - -“You have been watched,” said he. “Every movement you have made is known -to me.” - -“And why?” I exclaimed. “Why should you think it necessary to watch me?” - -“Why did you not send me any report yourself?” - -“You did not ask for one.” - -“I had not the honor to be informed of your address,” said he. - -“I wrote to you as soon as I was settled in London, and to this day have -never received a reply.” - -“You wrote?” he exclaimed, with some sign of disturbance. - -“I did, I repeated, and I quoted some words I remembered from my letter. - -“Pardon!” said the Marquis, “I do remember now receiving that letter, but -I must have mislaid it, and I certainly forgot that you had written.” - -“And, having forgotten an important communication, you proceed to -suspect me of treason! This is excellent, M. le Marquis!” - -“My dear friend,” he replied, in an agitated voice, “you then assure me -I was wrong in mistrusting you?” - -“Absolutely!” - -“Pardon me, my friend! I am overwhelmed with confusion!” - -He was so genuinely distressed, and the sincerity of his contrition -was so apparent, that what could I do but forgive him? But what -carelessness, what waste of time in dogging the steps of a friend, what -indications of mismanagement at every turn! And even at that moment I -was apparently embarked under this leader upon some secret and hazardous -undertaking. Well, there was nothing for it but to do my best so far as -I was concerned. - -“Ah, here is the station,” said he. “The train should now be almost -due.” - -“Train for London, sir?” said the porter. “Gone ten minutes ago. No, -sir, no more trains tonight.” - -“Peste!” cried the Marquis. “Ah, well, my friend, we must look for some -lodging for the night.” - -“But perhaps we might catch a train at another station,” I suggested. - -Yes, by driving ten miles we could just catch an express. - -“Bravo!” said the Marquis. “You are full of ideas, my dear d'Haricot.” - -“And you?” I said to myself, with a shrug. - -We arrived just in time, and on the platform were joined by our driver. - -“Let me introduce Mr. Hankey,” said the Marquis. - -So this was the elusive Hankey. Well, I shall not take the trouble to -describe him. Imagine a scoundrel, and you have his portrait. I -was thankful he did not travel in the same compartment with us, but -evidently regarded himself as in an inferior position. - -“You trust that man implicitly?” I asked the Marquis, when we had -started. - -“Implicitly!” he replied, with emphasis. - -“I do not,” I said to myself. - -By ten o'clock that night I was seated with the Marquis de la Carrabasse -in my own rooms, thinking, I must confess, not so much of politics and -dynasties as of the friends I had just lost for who could say how long. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXX - - -“_Conspiracy requireth a ready wit--and a readier exit_.” - ---Francis Gallup. - - -[Illustration: 9323] - -HE Marquis de la Carrabasse, secretary of the U. D. T. - -League, and known in their circles as F. II, enters this history so near -its end that I shall not stop to give a prolonged account of him. Yet he -was a person so remarkable as to merit a few words of description. The -inheritor of an ancient title, but little money; a Royalist to the point -of fanaticism; a man of wide culture and many ideas, and of the most -perfect simplicity of character and honesty of purpose, he had devoted -his whole life to the restoration of the monarchy, alternated during -lulls in the political weather by an equally feverish zeal for -scientific inventions of the most ambitious nature. Yet, owing to the -excess of his enthusiasm and fertility of mind over the more prosaic -qualities that should regulate them, practical success had hitherto -eluded this talented nobleman. His flying-machines had only once risen -into the element for which they were intended, and then the subsequent -descent had been so precipitate as to incapacitate the inventor for -a month. His submarine vessel still reposed at the bottom of the -Mediterranean, and the last I heard of his dynamite gun was that the -fragments were to be found anywhere within a radius of three miles -around its first discharge. As to his merits as a conspirator, my exile -bears witness. - -Yet he was a man for whom I could not but entertain a lively affection. -Of medium height and slender figure, he had a large, well-shaped nose, -a black mustache tinged with gray, whose vigorously upward curl had a -deceptively truculent air at first sight, and a splendid dark eye, -at times piercing and bright and at others dreamy as the eye of a -somnambulist. Add to this a manner naturally courteous and simple, -which, however, he was in the habit of artificially altering to one of -decision and mystery, when he thought the rôle he was playing suited -this transfiguration, and you have the Marquis de la Carrabasse, so far -as I can sketch him. - -We had only just seated ourselves in my room, when Halfred entered -beaming with pleasure at the prospect of seeing me again. - -“'Appy to see you back, sir,” he began, joyfully. - -“A most hunexpected pleasure, sir. I thought as 'ow you wasn't comin' -till hafter the festivities of Christmas, sir.” - -But at this point his eye fell upon my friend the Marquis, and his -expression changed in the drollest manner. Halfred's British prejudices -had become adjusted to me by this time, but evidently the very -appearance of this stranger was altogether too foreign for him. He -became abnormally solemn, and handed me a budget of letters that had -come this evening, with no further comment, while his eye plainly said, -“Have a care what company you keep!” - -In the mean time my guest had been regarding him with a rapt and -thoughtful gaze, and now he said, in the most execrable English: - -“Vill you please get me a bread or biskeet?” - -“Bread, sir?” replied Halfred, starting and looking hard at him. “Slice -of 'am with it?” - -“What did he say?” the Marquis asked me, in French. - -I explained. - -“Ah, yes; some pork; certain! Vich it vill also quite good and so to -be.” - -[Illustration: 0326] - -What he meant by this riddle I cannot tell; but I can assure you he sent -the honest Halfred from the room with a very perturbed countenance. - -In a few minutes he had brought us some much-needed refreshments, and, -with a last dark glance towards my unconscious visitor, retired for the -night. - -On our journey the Marquis had kept his counsel with that air of mystery -he could assume so effectively, nor had I pressed him with questions; -but when our hunger was somewhat abated I began to consider it time that -I was taken into his confidence. For I had gathered enough to feel sure -that some coup was very shortly to be tried. - -“M. le Marquis,” I said, “have you nothing to tell me?” - -“First, my dear friend, read your letters,” he replied. - -“But they can wait.” - -“I beseech you!” - -A little struck by his tone, I opened the first, and as I read the -contents I could not refrain from an exclamation of astonishment. - -“You have unexpected news?” he said. - -“'The Bishop of Battersea has much pleasure in accepting M. d'Haricot's -kind invitation.'” I read, aloud. “Mon Dieu! I am to have a bishop to -dinner in three days' time; and a bishop I have never invited!” - -“Are you sure?” - -“Positive!” - -“Read your other letters. Possibly they will throw light upon this.” - -I opened the next, and cried in bewilderment: “Sir Henry Horley has much -pleasure also! But I have never asked him; I have only met him once at a -country house!” - -The Marquis smiled. - -“Do not be too sure you have not asked these gentlemen,” he said. - -“But I swear--” - -“Read this!” - -He handed me an invitation-card on which, to my utter consternation, -I saw these words engraved: “Monsieur d'Haricot requests the pleasure -of--------company to dinner to meet--” and here followed a name it would -be indecorous to reproduce in these frivolous memoirs, the name of that -royal personage for whose cause we loyalists of France were striving! - -“What!” I exclaimed. “It is true?” - -“What is?” - -“That _he_ is to honor me with his company?” - -“Scarcely, my dear d'Haricot,” said the Marquis, with a smile. “But I -have full authority to take what steps I choose.” - -“To employ this ruse?” - -“Certainly, if I deem it advisable.” - -“But to what end?” - -“Listen!” said he, his dark eyes glowing with enthusiasm and his face -lighting up with patriotic ardor. “I have asked a party of your most -influential friends to dine with you, inducing them by a prospect of -this honor. You will tell them that his Highness cannot meet them there, -but that he bids them, as they reverence their own sovereign, to assist -his righteous cause. When they are inflamed with ardor, you will lead -them from the table to the special train which I shall have waiting. A -picked force will place themselves under our orders. By next morning the -King shall be proclaimed in France.” - -For a minute I was too staggered to answer him. - -“But, my dear Marquis,” I replied, when I had recovered my breath, -“_I_ cannot induce these sober and law-abiding Englishmen to follow me, -perhaps to battle.” - -“Not all, perhaps, but some, certainly. My dear friend, you have the -gift of tongues; you can move, persuade, influence to admiration. I -myself would try, but you know the English language better, I think, -than I, and then I am unknown to these gentlemen. Ah, you will not -desert us, d'Haricot! Your King demands this service of you!” - -“Of me?” - -“Yes; he mentioned your name when I spoke to him of our schemes.” - -“He wished me to perform this act?” - -“I had not then arranged it. But is it for you to choose the nature of -your service?” - -“If it is put to me thus, I shall endeavor to do my best,” I replied. -“But I confess I do not care for this scheme of yours.” - -No use in protesting; the Marquis rose and embraced me with such -flattering words as I hesitate to reproduce. - -“It is done! It is accomplished already!” he cried. - -I disengaged myself and endeavored to reflect. “This is all very well,” - I said. “But of what use to us is a bishop?” - -“We wish the support of the English Church.” - -“And Sir Henry Horley?” - -“Also of the nobility.” - -“But he is scarcely a nobleman, only a baronet,” I explained. “And, -besides, I only know him slightly. He is not my friend.” - -“Embrace him; make him your friend.” - -I fancied I saw myself; but what was the good in arguing with an -enthusiasm like this? - -I proceeded to read my other answers, and I did not know whether to feel -more astonished at the list of guests or at the curious knowledge of my -movements and acquaintances which my visitor must somehow have acquired. -The acceptances included Lord Thane, with whom I had only the very -slightest acquaintance, Mr. Alderman Guffin, at whose house I had once -dined, one or two people of social position whom I had met through Lumme -or Shafthead, and General Sholto. - -“Ah, the General!” I said. “Well, he, at least, is an old soldier.” - -“Be kind to him; he is our brightest hope,” said the Marquis. - -I looked at him in astonishment. “What do you know of him?” - -I could have sworn he blushed. “What do I not know of all your friends?” - he replied. - -Could it be from the inquiries of Hankey he had learned all this, and -took so much interest in my gallant neighbor? I remembered now how the -General had once met that disreputable individual. Yet it did not seem -to me altogether a complete explanation. - -But conceive of my astonishment when, among the few refusals, I found -one from Fisher! - -“What do you know of him?” I asked. - -“He is a philanthropist. I regret that he cannot accept,” said the -Marquis, with an air of calm mystery yet with another suggestion of -flush in his face. He knew of my philanthropic escapade, then--and how? - -“Well,” I said, at last, “I am prepared to assist you in any way I can. -In the two days left I shall arrange my affairs--and now I must send -some explanation of my disappearance to Lady Shafthead.” - -He rose and grasped my arm. - -“Not a word to her,” he said. “I do not trust the member of Parliament. -We must run no risk.” - -I protested, but no; he implored me--commanded me. - -“A line to my friend Dick Shafthead, then?” I suggested. “He, at least, -is beyond suspicion.” - -“My friend, we are serving the King,” he replied. - -“Very well,” I said, though my heart sank a little at this sudden -rupture with those kind friends. - -My visitor rose to depart, and just then his eye fell on two immense -packing-cases placed against the wall. - -“Ah,” he said, “they are safe, I see.” - -I took a lamp in my hand and came up to examine the latest arrived of -those mysterious gifts, whose source I now plainly perceived. - -“I should not let that lamp fall upon this box of bonbons,” he remarked, -lightly, and yet with a note of warning. - -“Why not, Marquis?” - -“The little packet may explode,” he laughed. - -Involuntarily I started. - -“It contains, then--?” - -“The munitions of war,” he answered. - -“And the other?” - -“Was to try you, my dear friend. It contains only bricks. Forgive me for -putting you to this test. I should not have doubted you.” - -“But to try me?” I said. “How would you have known if I had called in a -detective?” - -The Marquis looked at me. - -“I had not thought of that,” he confessed. - -It was my turn to look at him, and, I fear, not altogether with a -flattering eye. - -“Why was it addressed to Mr. Balfour?” I asked. - -“A ruse,” he replied, with his air of confident mystery returning -somewhat. “A mere ruse, my dear friend.” - -“I perceive,” I said, a little dryly. “Well, you can trust me for my -own sake not to explode this box; also to make the preparations for this -dinner.” - -“My friend, I make them.” - -“You?” - -“Read your invitation again.” - -I looked at the card sent out in my name, and then I noticed that an -address was placed in one corner, “Twenty-two Beacon Street, Strand.” - -“What is the meaning of this?” - -“It is a house I have hired for two weeks,” he replied. “The dinner, as -you see, takes place there. Hankey and I make all preparations.” - -“And I do nothing?” - -“You prepare yourself for the hour of action. Brave friend, au revoir!” - -“Au revoir, Marquis.” - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXXI - - -“_So you are actuated by the best motives? Poor devil! Have you tried -strychnine?_” - ---La Rabide. - - -[Illustration: 9334] - -HE next morning I called in Mr. and Mrs. Titch, Aramatilda, and Halfred, -and, in a voice from which I could not altogether banish my emotion, I -told them that I must give up my rooms and that they might never see me -again. From Halfred's manner I could not but suspect he was prepared for -ominous news; he had evidently concluded that a man who introduced after -dark such a visitor as I had entertained last night must stand on the -brink either of insanity or crime. Yet his stoical look as he heard my -announcement said, better than words: “You may disgust my judgment, but -you cannot shake my fidelity. Through all your errors I am prepared -to stand by you, and brush your trousers even on the morning of your -execution.” - -Mr. Titch's sorrow was, I fear, somewhat tinctured by regret at the loss -of a profitable tenant, though I am sure it was none the less sincere on -that account. - -“What 'as to 'appen, 'as to come about, as it were, sir,” he said, -clearing his throat for a further flight of imagery. “You will 'ave our -good wishes even in furrin parts, if I may say so, which people which -has been there tells me is enjoyable to such as knows the language, and -'as the good fortune for to be able to digest their vittles. We will -'old your memory, sir, in respectful hestimation, and forward letters as -may be required.” - -Mrs. Titch being, as I have said before, a lady of no ideas and a kindly -heart, confined her remarks to observing: - -“As Mr. Titch says, what has to be is such as we will hendeavor to -hestimate regretfully, sir.” As for Aramatilda, she looked as though -she would have spoken very kindly, indeed, had the occasion been more -private. That, at least, was the sentiment which a wide experience -enabled me to read in her brown eye. - -“My dear Miss Titch,” I said to her, “I leave you in good hands. Next to -having the felicity myself, I should sooner see you solaced by my good -friend Halfred than by any one I can think of.” - -“Oh, sir,” she replied, with a most becoming blush, “you are very kind. -But that won't be till you don't require him no longer.” - -“Right you are,” said her lover, regarding her with an approving eye. -“And Mr. d'Haricot ain't done with me yet.” - -“I fear that I shall be in two days more,” I replied, with a sadness -that brought a sympathetic tear to Aramatilda's eye. - -“That's to be seen, sir,” said Halfred, with resolution. - -Well, I dismissed these good people with a sadder heart than I cared to -allow, and had turned to arranging my papers and collecting my bills, -when I was interrupted by the entry of the Marquis in person. - -He was busy, he told me, busy about many things; and his manner was -mystery itself. Yet even a conspirator is human, and evidently he had -other interests in London besides our plot. From one or two sighs and -tender allusions I shrewdly guessed the nature of these. - -“You are not in love?” he asked me, suddenly. - -“In love!” I exclaimed, in astonishment, for his previous sentence, -though uttered with a melancholy air, had referred to the merits of a -new rifle. - -“In love with a dark lady?” - -I started. Could he refer to Kate? Yes, of course, now I come to think -of it, he or his agents must have seen us together. - -“No, Marquis, I give you my word I am not in love either with black or -brown,” I answered, gayly. - -“I am glad, my dear friend,” he replied, “for I would not do you an -injury.” - -“An injury?” I exclaimed, with a laugh. “Would you be my rival?” - -“No, no,” he said, though with some confusion. “I meant, my friend, that -I would not like to tear you from her.” - -“The conspirator must conspire,” I said, with a smile. - -“True; true, indeed,” he replied, with a sigh. - -Used as I was to the complex nature of my friend, I could not help -thinking that this was indeed a sentimental mood for one who was about -to undertake as mad and desperate an enterprise as ever patriot devised. - -“To-morrow morning I shall not be available,” he told me as he left; -“but after that--the King!” - -“You do not, then, prepare my dinner to-morrow morning?” - -“No, monsieur, not in the morning.” - -By that night I had made the few preparations that were necessary before -striking my tent and leaving England, perhaps forever. The next day -found me idle and restless, and suddenly I said to myself: - -“The most embarrassing part of this wild enterprise is being thrown -upon me. I want a friend by my side, and if the Marquis de la Carrabasse -objects, let the devil take him!” - -Ah, if I could have summoned Dick Shafthead! - -But, having undertaken not to do this, I selected that excellent -sportsman, his cousin Teddy Lumme. His courage I had proved, his wisdom -I felt sure was not sufficient to deter him from mixing himself up with -the business, and as for any harm coming to him, I promised myself to -see that he did not accompany me too far. - -I went to him, and having sworn him to secrecy, I told him of the -dinner, he, of course, knew that his father, the venerable bishop, was -to be of the party, and when he heard the part that the guests were -afterwards expected to play you should have seen his face. - -“Of course they will not listen to me for a moment,” I said. “The idea -is absurd. But I am bound to carry out my instructions, and afterwards -to start upon this reckless expedition myself. I only ask you, as -my friend, to come to the dinner, and keep me in countenance, and -afterwards take my farewells to your cousins--I should say, to all my -English friends. Will you?” - -“Like a shot,” said Teddy. “I wouldn't miss the fun for anything. By -Jove! I think I see my governor's face! I say, you Frenchies are good, -old-fashioned sportsmen. You're going to swim the channel, of course?” - -His mirth, I confess, jarred a little upon me. - -“I am serving my King,” I reminded him. - -“Oh, I know, I'd do the same myself if these dashed Radicals got into -power over here. A man can't be too loyal, I always say. All right; I'll -come. What time?” - -“Eight o'clock.” - -In the afternoon a decidedly disquieting incident occurred. Much more to -my surprise than pleasure, I received a brief visit from Mr. Hankey. -I had disliked the thought of this individual ever since my burgling -experience, and now that I saw him in the flesh I disliked him still -more. - -“Do you come from the Marquis de la Carrabasse?” I asked. - -“His Lordship has directed me to remove the packing-case to-night.” - -“Take it,” I said. “My faith! I prefer its room to its company! The -Marquis is at Beacon Street at present, I suppose?” - -“His Lordship is engaged.” - -“Engaged?” - -“Rather more than that,” said Mr. Hankey, with a peculiar look. “But he -will call upon you to-morrow and give you your orders.” - -“My orders!” I exclaimed, with some annoyance. - -[Illustration: 0340] - -“His Lordship used that expression.” - -Mr. Hankey looked at me as if to see how I liked this, and then, in a -friendly tone which angered me still further, remarked: - -“It's a risky job, is this.” - -“A man must take some risks now and then.” - -“If the police were to hear?” he suggested. - -“Who is to tell them?” - -“It might be worth somebody's while.” - -“And whom do you suspect of being that traitor?” I exclaimed. - -With a very abject apology for giving any offence, Mr. Hankey withdrew. - -“They still suspect me!” I said to myself, indignantly. - -Then another suspicion, still more unpleasant, struck me. Was Mr. Hankey -making an overture to me? I tried to dismiss it, but my spirits were not -very high that night, not even after the explosive packing-case had been -removed. - -Before retiring to bed on the last night which I was going to spend in -this land, a sudden and happy idea struck me. Not to write a single line -of explanation to my late hosts was ungrateful and unbecoming in one -who boasted of belonging to the politest nation in Europe. I had only -promised not to write to Lady Shafthead and Dick. Well, then, there was -nothing to hinder me from writing to Daisy. I admit that Sir Philip also -was exempt, but this alternative did not strike me so forcibly. If I -posted my letter in the morning, she would not get it till it was too -late to take any steps that might interfere with our plans. I seized my -pen and sat down and wrote: - -“Dear Miss Shafthead,--Truly you must think me the most ungrateful and -unmannerly of guests; but, believe me, gratitude and kind recollections -are not what have been lacking. I am prevented from explaining fully, -but I may venture to tell you this--since the occasion will be past even -when you read these lines; I am again in the service of one who has the -first call upon my devotion. Without naming him, doubtless you can guess -who I mean. Silence towards the kind Lady Shafthead and towards my -dear friend Dick has been enjoined upon me; but since you were not -specifically mentioned I cannot resist the impulse to assure you of my -eternal remembrance of your kindness and of yourself. Convey my adieus -to Sir Philip and to Lady Shafthead, and assure them that their -hospitality and goodness will never be forgotten by me. - -“Tell Dick that I shall write to him later if fate permits me. If not, -he can always assure himself that I was ever his most affectionate and -devoted friend. - -“I leave England to-night on an adventure which I cannot but allow seems -hopeless and desperate enough, but, as I once said to you on a less -serious occasion, _'l'homme propose, Dieu dispose_.' The cause calls, I -can but obey! I know not what English customs permit me to sign myself, -but in the language of sincerity and of the heart, I am, yours eternally -and gratefully.” - -And then I signed my name, lingering a little over it to delay the -curtain which seemed to descend when I folded my letter and placed it in -its envelope. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXXII - - -“_Farewell, my friends, farewell! We have had some brave days -together!_” - ---Boulevardé. - - -[Illustration: 9343] - -HE momentous day had come. Looking out of my bedroom window in the -morning, I saw the sunshine smiling on the bare trees and the frosted -grass of the park. At that hour the shadows were long, and Rotten Row -quiet as a lonely sea-shore, so that a lively flock of sparrows seemed -to fill the whole air with their cheerful discussions, and I fancied -they were debating whether they could let me go away and leave forever -this little home that I had made. - -“I would stay,” I said to them; “I would stay if I could.” - -But, alas! it was to be my last day in England, the land I had first -regarded as so alien, and then come to love so well. And there was no -use standing here letting my spirit run down at heel. - -Yet, when I came into my sitting-room and saw the bareness that had -already been made by my preparations for departure, the absence of -little things my eye had before fallen upon without noticing, and the -presence of a half-packed box in one corner, my heart began to feel an -emptiness again. - -“I feel as a man must when he is going to get married,” I said to -myself, and endeavored to smile gayly at my humor. - -Hardly had I finished my breakfast, endeavoring as I read as usual my -morning paper to forget that I was leaving all this, when I heard a -quick step in the passage, and with a brisk, “Bon jour, monsieur!” the -Marquis entered. - -“Ah,” I thought, “he is in his element. No regrets with him.” - -Yet, after the first alertness of his entry, I observed, to my surprise, -a certain air of sentiment about him, which, if it was not regret, was -at least not martial keenness. - -“You did your business yesterday?” I said. - -“I did,” he replied, in a grave tone, and with something like a tender -look in his eye. “I did some private business of an unforgettable and -momentous nature, my dear d'Haricot. But not now; I shall not tell you -now. To-night you shall know.” - -Then, making a gesture as if to banish this mood, he threw himself into -a chair, and, bending his brows in a keen look at me, said: - -“But to business, my friend; to the business we are embarked upon.” - -“Precisely,” I said. “I await it.” - -“In this house where you dine are two entrances. Your guests come in by -one, and you await them in the rooms I have set apart for you. In the -rest of the house I operate.” - -“And what do you do?” - -“I gather our force. Men picked by my agents are to be invited to enter -by the other door. I offer them refreshments. They follow, or, rather, -precede me. In a lane at the back of the house is yet another door; -against it is drawn up a great van, a van used for removing furniture, a -van of colossal size. You see?” - -“Hardly; I fear I am stupid.” - -“You do not see? Ah, my dear d'Haricot, eloquence is your gift, -contrivance mine. I have not invented a flying-machine, a submarine -vessel, and a dynamite gun for nothing. These men enter this van; the -door is closed upon them; it is driven to the station, put on board my -special train, and taken to the coast. They then emerge; I address them -in such terms as will make it impossible for them to withdraw, even if -they wish--and they are to be desperate, picked men; we arm them, -and then to France! On the coast of Normandy we will be met by five -regiments of foot, two of cavalry, and six batteries of artillery which -I am assured will declare for the King. Paris is ripe for a revolution. -Vive le Roi! Why are you silent? Is it not well thought of, my friend?” - -“It is indeed ingenious,” I replied. “But the carrying of it out I -foresee may not be so easy.” - -“Nothing can fail. My confidence is implicit. Was I ever deceived?” - -I might with truth have retorted “always,” but I saw that I should only -enrage him. - -I shrugged my shoulders and asked: - -“You superintend the affair?” - -“In the house. Hankey makes the arrangements at the station. Much is to -be done. One man to one task.” - -“And I? What do I do?” - -“You bring your friends to the station. At eleven precisely the train -starts. Do not be late.” - -“But if they will not accompany me?” - -“If all else fails, we go to France together. At least our brave -countrymen will not be afraid, whatever these colder islanders may do.” - -“You may depend on me for that,” I answered. “By-the-way, I should tell -you that I bring a friend of my own to dinner--M. Lumme.” - -“Lumme!” cried the Marquis. “You can trust him?” - -“Implicitly.” - -“And I trust you. Bring him if he is brave.” There was a minute's pause; -he had suddenly fallen silent. - -“Is that all?” I asked. - -“All for the present, my brave friend; au revoir! We meet at the station -at eleven precisely! Do not forget!” - -He leaped up with that surprising vivacity that marked his movements, -and before I had time to accompany him even as far as the door he had -closed it and gone. In a moment, however, I heard his voice outside, -apparently engaged in altercation with some one, and then followed some -vigorous expletives and a brisk sound of scuffling. - -I rushed into the passage, and there, to my consternation, beheld my -friend retreating towards me before a vigorous onslaught by Halfred, -who was flourishing his fists and exclaiming, “Come out, you beastly -mounseer! Come out into the square and I'll paste your hugly mug inter a -cocked at!” - -“Diable!” cried the Marquis. “Leetle bad man stop short! Mon Dieu! What -can it was?” - -“Halfred!” I cried, indignantly. “Cease! What is the meaning of this?” - -“Beg pardon, sir,” said Halfred, desisting, but unabashed at my anger. -“You told me yourself, sir, as ow I was to do it.” - -“I told you? Explain! Come into my room.” - -I brought the two combatants in, closed the door, and repeated, sternly: - -“Explain, sir!” - -“This is the furriner as haccosted Miss Titch, sir,” said Halfred, -doggedly, “and you said as 'ow I'd better practise my boxing on 'im. -I didn't spot 'im the other night, but Miss Titch she seed 'im this -morning and told me.” - -“I know not the meaning you mean when you speak so fast!” cried the -Marquis. “But I see you are intoxicate, foddled and squiff. Small beast, -to damn with you!” - -[Illustration: 0348] - -“You just wait till I gets you outside,” said Halfred, ominously. “I'll -give you something to talk German about!” - -“German!” shrieked the Marquis, catching at the only word he understood. -“If you was gentleman not as could be which I then should--ha!” And he -stamped his foot and made a gesture of lunging my retainer through the -chest. - -“Oh, you're ready to begin, are you?” said Halfred, mistaking this -movement for the preliminary to a box and throwing himself into the -proper attitude. - -“With your permission, sir.” - -“Stop!” I said. “You certainly have not my permission! I shall dismiss -you if you strike my guest again!” - -Yet I fear I was unable to keep my countenance as severe as it should -have been. I then turned to the livid and furious Marquis and explained -the cause of the assault. - -“Address that girl!” cried he. “It was to ask her questions--questions -about you, monsieur, when I wrongly distrusted you. This is a scandalous -charge!” - -“But you see how liable your action was to misconstruction?” - -“I see, I do see!” he exclaimed. “He was right to feel jealous! I have -given many good cause, yes, I confess it. Explain to him.” - -I told Halfred of his mistake. - -“Well, sir,” he said, “I takes your word, sir.” - -“Good young man,” said the Marquis, turning to him with his finest -courtesy. “I forgive. I admire. You have right. Many have I love, but -your mistress is not admired of me. She is preserve! Good-night, young -man; good-night, monsieur.” - -And off he marched as briskly as ever. - -Halfred shook his head darkly. - -“Him being a friend of yours, sir, I says nothing,” he observed, but his -abstinence from further comment was more eloquent than even his candid -opinion would have been. - -I posted my letter, I smoked, I read a book to pass the time, and at -last, as the afternoon was wearing on, I went to my bedroom and packed -a bag containing a change of clothes and other essentials, for I -remembered that I should have to drive straight from the dinner-table -to the train. I looked out into the street; dusk was falling, the lamps -were lit, the lights of a carriage and the rattle of horses passed -now and then, the steady hum of London reached my ears. It was still -cheerful and inviting, but now my nerves were tighter strung and I felt -rather excitement than depression. - -“Monsieur! You in there?” - -The voice came from my sitting-room. I started, I rushed towards the -welcome sound, and the next moment I was embracing Dick Shafthead. He -looked so uncomfortable at this un-English salutation that I had to -begin with an apology. - -“Never before and never again, I assure you!” I said. “For the instant -I forgot myself; that is the truth. Tell me, what good angel has sent -you?” - -For I knew his sister could not yet have received my letter. - -“We were afraid you'd got into the hands of the police again, and I've -come prepared to bail you out. What the deuce happened to you?” - -“You heard the circumstances of my departure?” - -“We heard a cock-and-bull story from a thickheaded yokel--something -about a pistol and a villain with a mustache and a carriage and pair; -but as we learned that you'd appeared at the station safe and sound, we -divided the yarn by five. I must say, though, I've been getting a little -worried at hearing no news of you--that's to say, the women folk got in -a flutter.” - -“Did they?” I cried, with a pleasant excitement I could not quite -conceal. - -“Naturally, we are not accustomed to have our guests vanish like an -Indian juggler. I've come to see what's up.” - -I told him then the whole story, letting the Marquis's prohibition go to -the winds. He listened in amused astonishment. - -“Well,” he said, at last, “it seems I've just come in time for the fair. -You've napkins enough to feed another conspirator, I suppose?” - -“You are the one man I want!” - -“That's all right, then,” said Dick. “I'd better be off to my rooms to -dress. Where shall we meet?” - -“I will call for you soon after half-past seven. The house is not far -from the Temple, I believe.” So now, thanks to Providence, I would have -both my best friends by my side. My spirits rose high, and I began to -look forward gayly even to urging a bishop to start by a night train -with a repeating-rifle. - -Soon after seven Teddy appeared, immaculate and garrulous as ever, and -in high spirits at the thought of the shock his reverend father would -get on finding him included among the select party. - -“The governor's looking forward to having a great night of it,” said -this irreverend son. “Scratching his head when I last saw him, trying to -remember the stories he generally tells to dooks and royalties. I told -him he'd better get up a few spicy ones to tickle a Frenchie, don't you -know.” - -[Illustration: 0352] - -“My faith!” I exclaimed; “how disappointed they will all be! I scarcely -have the face to meet them.” - -“Rot,” said Teddy. “Do 'em good. Hullo! what's this bag for? Oh, I see, -you cross to-night, don't you? Is Halfred going with you?” - -I also looked at my servant in surprise. He was dressed in his overcoat, -and stood holding my bag in one hand and his hat in the other. - -“Going to take your bag down for you, sir,” he explained. - -“But I do not need you, my good Halfred. I was just going to say -farewell to you this moment.” - -“I'm a-coming,” he persisted. - -“Even against my wishes?” - -“Beg pardon, sir, but that there furriner, 'e' s in this show, ain't -he?” - -“Why should you think so?” - -“I smells a rat, sir, as soon as I sees 'im. I don't mean no offence, -but you don't know Hengland as well as I do. I'll come along, sir, -and if you happens to be thinking of a trip across the channel, I was -thinking, sir, a change of hair wouldn't do me no 'arm.” - -“But I cannot allow you! There is danger!” - -“Just as I thought, sir; but I'm ready for 'em.” - -And, laying down the bag, he showed me the butt of an immense pistol in -his overcoat-pocket. - -“Halfred,” I cried, “you may not glitter, but you are of gold! Come, -then, my brave fellow, if you will!” - -“Good sportsman, isn't he?” said Teddy, as we drove off together. - -At a quarter to eight we three, Teddy and Dick and I, alighted at number -Twenty-two Beacon Street, Strand, to find Halfred and the bag awaiting -us outside the door. A waiter with a mysterious air showed us up a -narrow staircase into a small, well-furnished reception-room. Beyond -this, through folding-doors, opened a dining-room of moderate size, -where we found the table laid and ready. The man closed the door and -disappeared, and the four of us were left to await the arrival of my -guests. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXXIII - - -“_The time has come, the very hour has struck when deeds most -unforgettable are due._” - ---Ben Verulam. - - -[Illustration: 9355] - -UARTER-PAST eight, and no sign of a guest!” I exclaimed. - -“You are sure you asked 'em for eight and not eight-thirty?” said Dick. - -“Positive; it was on the card. I noticed particularly.” - -“Perhaps they've gone to your rooms,” suggested Teddy. - -“Scarcely. Some of them do not know my address, and this house was also -engraved upon the card.” - -We were sitting round the anteroom fire while Halfred waited in the -dining-room. - -“Beg pardon, sir,” he observed, putting his head through the door-way. -“But perhaps they've smelled a rat, like as I do.” - -Another quarter of an hour passed, and then we heard the sound of heavy -footsteps on the stairs; it sounded like several people. Then came a -knock. I opened the door and saw the waiter who had shown me in, and -behind him a number of as disreputable-looking fellows as I have ever -met. - -[Illustration: 0356] - -“Your visitors, sir,” said the waiter, in his mysterious voice, though -with an evident air of surprise, and, I think, of disgust. - -“Mine?” - -“Yes, sir; Mr. Horleens, they wants.” - -“But I am not Mr. Horleens. There is some mistake here.” - -I addressed a few questions to one of the men, but he was so abashed at -the well-dressed appearance of myself and my two guests that, muttering -something about “being made a blooming fool of,” the whole party turned -and descended again. - -“It was the right word, sir,” said the waiter to me. “Some of 'em was to -ask for Mr. Horleens.” - -“What do you make of that?” I exclaimed, when they had all gone. - -“They've mistaken the house, o' course,” said Teddy. - -“Horleens, Horleens,” repeated Dick, thought-fully. “I have it! They -meant Orleans. They must be some of your gay sportsmen.” - -“Of course!” I cried. “That must have been the password. Well, no doubt -they have found the proper door by this time. But I fear, gentlemen, -that we are to have this dinner all to ourselves.” - -“Let's eat it anyhow,” said Dick. “I've a twist like a pig's tail.” - -This sentiment being heartily applauded by Teddy, I rang for the waiter, -and we sat down to as excellent a dinner as you could wish to taste. -Certainly, whatever miscalculations the Marquis had made, this part of -his programme was successfully arranged and enthusiastically carried -through. We ate, we drank, we laughed, we jested; you would have thought -that the night had nothing more serious in store for any of us. Halfred, -who helped to wait upon us, nearly dropped the dishes more than once -in his efforts to control his mirth at some exuberant sally. It was not -possible to have devised a merrier evening for my last. - -“Here's to your guests for not turning up!” cried Teddy. “They'd only -have spoiled the fun.” - -“And the average of bottles per man,” added Dick. - -“Yes. Thank God I am not making an inflammatory speech to Sir Henry -Horley and the Bishop of Battersea!” I said. “But, my dear friends”--and -here I pulled out my watch--“I fear I shall have to make a little speech -as it is, a farewell oration to you. It is now half-past ten. I leave -you in a few minutes.” - -“The devil you do,” said Dick. “Teddy, the monsieur proposes to dismiss -us. What shall we do?” - -“The monsieur be blanked!” cried Teddy, using a most unnecessarily -strong expression. “O' course we're coming, too.” - -“But I shall not permit--” - -“Silence!” said Dick. “Messieurs, let us put on our coats! Halfred, load -that pistol of yours; the expedition is starting.” - -No use in protesting. These two faithful comrades hilariously cried down -all resistance, and the four of us set off for the station. - -In a remote, half-lit corner of that huge, draughty building, we found -the special train standing; an engine, two carriages, and the great -colored van already mounted upon a truck. The Marquis met me with a -surprised and disappointed look. - -“Is this all the aid you bring?” he asked. - -“All!” I exclaimed. “I do not know what mistake you have made, but my -guests never appeared.” - -“Is that the truth?” - -“M. le Marquis!” - -“Pardon. I see; there must have been some error. Well, it cannot be -helped now. I, at least, have been more successful; I have got my men. -Who are these two?” - -I introduced my two friends, and we walked down the platform. As we -passed the furniture van I started to hear noises proceeding from -inside. - -“Do not be alarmed,” said the Marquis. “I have explained that I am -conveying a menagerie.” - -We stopped before a first-class compartment. He opened the door and -invited us to enter. - -“Do not think me impolite if I myself travel in another carriage,” he -said to me. “I have a companion.” - -“M. Hankey?” - -“He also is here,” he replied, I thought evasively. - -Just before we started, Halfred put his head through our window and -said, with a mysterious grin: - -“The furriner's got a lady with him!” - -[Illustration: 0360] - -But he had to run to his own carriage before he had time to add more. -The next moment the engine whistled and the expedition had started. - -“I don't quite know what the penalty is for this sort of thing,” said -Dick, as we clanked out over the dark Thames and the constellations of -the Embankment. “Hard labor if we're caught on this side of the channel, -and hanging on the other, I suppose; so cheer up, Teddy!” - -At this quite unnecessary exhortation, Teddy forthwith burst into song. -You would have thought that these two young men, travelling in their -evening clothes and laughing gayly, were bound for some ball or -carnival. Yet they knew quite well they were running a very serious risk -for a cause they had no interest in whatever, and that seemed only to -increase their good-humor. - -“What soldiers they would make!” I said to myself. - -But in the course of an hour or two our talk and laughter ceased, not -that our courage oozed away, but for the prosaic reason that we were -all becoming desperately sleepy. How long we took to make that journey I -cannot say. The lines seemed to be consecrated to goods traffic at that -hour of the night and our train moved by fits and starts, now running -for half an hour, then stopping for it seemed twice as long. At last I -awoke from a doze to find the train apparently entering a station, and -at the same instant Dick started up. - -“We must be nearly there,” I said. - -“My dear fellow,” he replied, seriously. “Are you really going on with -this mad adventure?” - -“I have no choice; but you--” - -“Oh, I'm coming with you if you persist. But think twice before it's too -late.” - -“Hey!” cried Teddy, starting from his slumbers. “Where are we?” - -Dick and I looked at each other, and, seeing that we were resolute, he -smiled and then yawned, while I let down the window and looked out. - -Yes, we were entering a station, and in a minute or two more our journey -was at an end. - -“There will be a little delay while we get the van off the train and the -horses harnessed,” said the Marquis, coming up to me. “In the mean time -there is some one to whom I wish to present you.” - -He led me to his carriage and there I saw a veiled lady sitting. Even -with her veil down I started, and when she raised it I became for the -instant petrified with utter astonishment. It was Kate Kerry! - -“I believe you have met this lady,” said the Marquis, in his stateliest -manner, “but not previously as my wife.” - -“Your wife!” I exclaimed. “I have, then, the honor of addressing the -Marchioness de la Carrabasse?” - -“You have,” said Kate, with a smile and a flash of those dark eyes that -had once thrilled me so. - -“We were married yesterday morning,” said the Marquis. “That was the -business I was engaged upon. And now for the moment I leave you; the -general must attend to his command!” - -I entered the carriage, and there, from her own lips, I heard the story -of this extraordinary romance. The Marquis, she told me, had obtained -an introduction to her (I did not ask too closely how, but, knowing his -impetuous methods, I guessed what this phrase meant); this had been -just after the end of the mission, and his object at first was to obtain -information about me from one whom (I also guessed) he regarded as -probably my mistress; but in a very short time from playing the detective -he had become the lover; his suit was pressed with irresistible vigor, -and now I beheld the result. - -“May I ask a delicate question?” I said. “Yes,” she replied, with all -her old haughty assurance. - -“What was it that moved your heart, that so suddenly made you love the -Marquis?” - -“He attracted my sympathy.” - -“Your sympathy only?” - -“And my admiration. He is serving a noble cause.” - -Truly, my friend had infected his wife with his own enthusiasm in the -most remarkable way. “Does your uncle know?” - -“No.” - -“He might not approve of my friend.” - -“My husband is a marquis,” she replied, with an air of pride and -satisfaction that seemed to me to throw more than a little light on the -complex motives of this young lady. - -“And now you propose to accompany him on this dangerous adventure?” - -“Certainly I do! Where else should I be?” - -“He is fortunate, indeed,” I said, politely. - -Now I understand how my friend F. II had obtained all his information -regarding my movements and my friends and my different escapades, for in -the day's of Plato I had talked most frankly with his fair Marchioness. -In fact, I perceived clearly several things that had been obscure -before. - -But our talk was soon interrupted by the return of the happy husband. - -“All is ready! Come!” he said. - -Undoubtedly, with his eyes burning with the excitement of action, his -effective gestures and distinguished air, his dramatic speech, not to -speak of that little title of marquis, I could well fancy his charming a -girl who delighted in the unusual, and was ready, as her uncle said, to -fill in the picture from her own imagination. - -“And so my dethroned divinity is the Marchioness de la Carrabasse!” I -said to myself. “Mon Dieu! I shall be curious to see the offspring of -this remarkable union!” - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXXIV - - -“_Et Balbus bellum horridum fecit._” - ---CONVULSIUS. - - -[Illustration: 9365] - -HE Marquis led us from the station into a road, where we found the van -already under way and two carriages awaiting us. In one Dick and Teddy -were already installed; the Marquis and Kate entered the other. I -joined my friends, and Halfred sprang upon the box; and off we set for -a destination which our leader, after his habit, kept till the last a -profound secret. So far as I could see, our force consisted of the -party I have named, the men in the van, and the three drivers. Hankey, I -presumed, must be one of the last. Where we were to find a ship, and how -soon we were to find our French allies, I had no notion at all. - -That drive seemed as interminable as the railway journey, and certainly -it was far more uncomfortable. We were all three too sleepy to talk -much, but, to my constant wonder and delight, I found my two companions -as ready as ever to go ahead and take their chance of what might befall -them. - -“I say,” said Teddy, in a drowsy tone, “do you think there's any chance -of getting a bath before we begin?” - -“The despised sandwich would come in handy, too,” added Dick. “I say, -monsieur, why didn't you bring a flask?” - -“I did,” I replied, “and here it is.” - -“He is another Napoleon,” said Dick. “Nothing is forgotten.” - -Meantime the day began to break, and, though the sun had not yet risen, -it was quite light when we felt our carriage stop. - -“Alight!” said the voice of the Marquis. “We have arrived!” - -We were in a side track that ran through the fields of a sheltered -valley; on one side a grove of trees concealed us; on the other, through -the end of the valley and only at a little distance off, I saw something -that roused me with a thrill of excitement. It was the open, gray sea, -with a small steamboat lying close inshore. - -“Peste!” cried the Marquis, taking me aside. “Hankey is not here!” - -“Not with us?” - -“No; he must have been left at the station. It is a nuisance!” - -“It seems to me worse than that.” - -“Yes, for we cannot wait; we must leave him behind. It is a great -loss. And now, my brave comrade, the drama commences--the drama of the -restoration! You will open the van, and as the men come out I shall -address them.” - -“In English?” I asked. - -“Yes; I have prepared and learned by heart an oration. It will not be -long, but it will be moving. Ah, you will see that I can be eloquent!” - -With his wife at his side, and the drivers a few paces behind him, he -drew himself up and threw out his chest, while I unlocked the door of -the van. - -Throwing it open I stepped back, curious to see the desperadoes he had -collected, and wondering how they would regard the business, while the -Marquis cleared his throat. - -A moment's expectant pause, and then--conceive my sensations--out -stepped, first, the burly form of Sir Henry Horley, then the upright -figure of General Sholto, next the benevolent countenance of the Bishop -of Battersea, and after him the remainder of my invited guests. The -Marquis had kidnapped the wrong men! - -“What the devil!” began Sir Henry, glancing round him to see in what -country and company he found himself; but before there was time for -a word of explanation, the Marquis had launched upon his passionate -appeal. As the original manuscript afterwards came into my possession, -I am able to give the exact words of this remarkable oration. - -“Brave, gallant men,” he cried; “you have come to share adventures -stupendous, miraculous, which you will enjoy! I lead you, my good -Britannic sportsmen, whither or why obviously can be seen, to establish -the anointed and legal King in his right country! To die successfully -is glorious! But you will not; you will live forever conquering, and -gratefully recollected in France! - -“You” [here he waved his hand towards the astonished baronet] “will -enjoy drink of all beers and spirits that an English proverbially adores -ever after and always! Also you” [here he indicated the dumfounded -bishop] “will enjoy women, the most lively and sporting in the -wide world, always and ever after! Also you” [pointing towards the -substantial form of Mr. Alderman Guffin] “shall bask and revel in the -land of song, of music, of light fantastic toes, amid all which once and -more having been never stopping again bravo and hip, hip, my sportsmen! -Once, twice, thrice, follow me to victor!” - -He stopped and looked eagerly for the fruits of this appeal, and his -Britannic sportsmen returned his gaze with interest. I am free to -confess that long before this my two companions and I had shrunk from -publicity behind the door of the van, awaiting a more fitting moment to -greet our friends. - -“Is this a dashed asylum, or a dashed nightmare?” demanded Sir Henry. - -Not quite comprehending this, but seeing that these recruits displayed -no great alacrity, the Marquis again raised his voice and cried: - -“Are you afraid, brave garçons?” - -But now an unexpected light was thrown on their captors. - -“Kate!” exclaimed General Sholto in a bewildered voice. - -That the unfortunate General should have his domestic drama played in -public was more than I could bear. I stepped forward, and I may honestly -say that I effectually distracted attention. It was not a pleasant -process, even when assisted by the explanations of Teddy to his father -and the loyal assurances of Dick; but it at least cleared the air. -As for the unfortunate Marquis, his chagrin was so evident that, -diabolically unpleasant as he had made my own position, I could not but -feel sorry for him. - -“And so,” he said to me, sadly, “Heaven has been unkind to me again. I -acted for the best, my dear d'Haricot, believe me! But I fear I do not -excel so much in carrying out details as in conceiving plans. I see, it -was my fault! I allowed these gentlemen to enter that house by the wrong -door. Well, if they will not follow us--and I fear they are reluctant, -though I do not understand all they say--we three must go alone!” - -“Three?” I asked. - -“My wife and you and I. Say farewell to your friends and come! The -vessel awaits us and our forces in France will at all events be ready.” - -But Heaven was to prove still more unkind to our unfortunate leader. - -“Who are these?” I exclaimed. - -“The English police!” he cried. “We are betrayed!” - -And indeed we were. A force of mounted policemen swept round the corner -of the wood and trotted up to us, and in the midst of them we recognized -the double-faced Hankey. - -“What do you want, gentlemen?” asked the Marquis, calmly, though his -eyes flashed dangerously at the traitor. - -“We come in the Queen's name!” replied the officer in command. “Are you -the Marquis de la Carrabasse?” - -I am. - -“I have a warrant, then, for your arrest.” - -But now, for the first time, fortune turned in the Marquis's favor, -though I fear it seemed to that zealous patriot a poor crumb of -consolation that she threw. - -Instead of finding, as our betrayer had calculated, a crew of -suspicious-looking adventurers, he beheld a small party of middle-aged -gentlemen attired in evening clothes and anxious only to find their way -home again; and, to add to our good luck, when they came to look for our -case of arms and ammunition it appeared that the Marquis had forgotten -to bring it. Also, these same elderly gentlemen showed a very marked -disinclination to have their share in the adventure appear in the -morning papers, even in the capacity of witnesses. - -And, finally, as the French government had been informed of our plans -for some weeks past, so that we were absolutely powerless for mischief, -the police decided to overlook my share altogether and make a merely -formal matter of my friend's arrest. - -“What will my King say?” cried the poor Marquis. “Oh, d'Haricot, I am -disgraced, and my honor is lost! Tell me not that I am unfortunate; for -what difference does that make? Such misfortunes must not be survived! -Adieu, my friend! Pardon my suspicions!” - -Before I could prevent him, the unfortunate man quickly thrust his hand -into his pistol-pocket, and in that same instant would have blown out -those ingenious, unpractical brains. But, with a fresh look of despair, -he stopped, petrified, his hand still in his pocket. - -“My revolver also is forgotten!” he exclaimed. “I am neither capable of -living nor of dying!” - -“Thank Heaven who mislaid that pistol,” I replied. “Had you forgotten -your bride, too?” - -“Mon Dieu! I had! I thank you for reminding me. Ah, yes, I have some -consolation in life left, me!” - -But though the Marchioness no doubt consoled him later, she was at that -moment in anything but a sympathetic mood. - -“Well, my dear,” I overheard the General saying to her, “as you make -your bed so you must lie in it. This--er--Marquis, doesn't he call -himself?--of yours hasn't started very brilliantly, but, I dare say, by -the time he has been before the magistrate and cooled down, and had a -shave and so forth, he will do better. I shouldn't let him mix himself -up in any more of these plots of his, though, if I were you.” - -She tossed her head, and the defiant flash of her eyes told her uncle -plainly to mind his own business; but I fear his words had stung her -more than he intended, for when her husband said to her, dramatically, -“My love, we have failed!” she merely replied, with a sarcastic air, -“Naturaly; what else could you have expected?” - -She beamed upon me with contrasting kindness, lingered to say farewell -to the admiring Teddy, who had just been presented to her, went by her -uncle with a disdainful glance, and then the happy couple passed out of -this story. - -“A devilish fine woman!” said Teddy. - -“Others have made the same reflection,” I replied. - -“And now, monsieur,” said Dick, “I think it's about time we were getting -back to London, bath, and breakfast.” - -“Carriage is ready, sir,” said the voice of Halfred. - -“Whose carriage?” - -“Carriage as we came down in, sir. I've give the driver the tip, and -he's waiting behind them trees.” - -“But what about all these unfortunate gentlemen?” - -“Thought as 'ow they might prefer travelling in the van they comed -in,” he replied, with a semblance of great gravity. - -But I had not the hardihood to do this, and concerning my journey to -town with my dinnerless, sleepless, and breakfastless guests, I should -rather say as little as possible. - -I confess I envied the Marquis accompanying his escort of constables. - -[Illustration: 8000] - - - - -Chapter XXXV - - -“_Adieu! I never wait till my friends have yawned twice_.” - ---Hercule d'Enville. - - -[Illustration: 9374] - -ELL, I am back in London after all, amid the murmur of millions of -English voices, the rumble of millions of wheels, the painted omnibus, -and the providential policeman--all the things to which I bade a long -farewell last night. And my reader, if indeed he has kept me company so -far, now fidgets a little for fear I am about to mix myself in further -complications and pour more follies into the surfeited ear. But no! I -have rambled and confessed enough, and in a few more pages I, like the -Indian juggler Dick compared me to, shall throw a rope into the sky, -and, climbing up it, disappear--into heaven? Again no! It may be a -surprise to many, but it was not there that these memoirs were written. - -To round up and finish off a narrative that has no plot, no moral, and -only the most ridiculous hero, is not so easy as I thought it was going -to be. Probably the best plan will be not to say too much about this -hero and just a little about his friends. - -As I had given up and dismantled my rooms, Dick insisted that I must -return to Helmscote with him that same day and finish my Christmas -visit, and need it be said that I accepted this invitation? - -At the station, upon our arrival in London, I parted with Teddy Lumme -and General Sholto. - -“By-bye,” said Teddy, cheerfully; “I must trot along and look after the -governor; he's in a terrible stew; I don't suppose he has missed two -meals running before in his life--poor old beggar! It'll do him good, -though; don't you worry, old chap.” - -And with a friendly wave of his hand this filial son drove off with the -still muttering Bishop. - -The General wrung my hand, hoped he would see me again soon, and then, -without more words, left us. He was not so cheerful, for that final -escapade of his niece had hurt him more than he would allow. Still, it -was a fine red neck and a very erect back that I last saw marching down -the platform. - -“And now, my good Halfred,” I said, “I suppose you fly to Miss Titch and -happiness? Lucky fellow!” - -“I 'aven't been dismissed yet, sir,” he replied, solemnly, and with no -answering smile, “but if you gives me the sack, o' course I'll 'ave to -go.” - -“Then you think I need your watchful eye on me a little longer?” - -From the expression of that watchful eye it was evident that he was very -far from disposed to let me take my chance of escaping the consequences -of my errors without his assistance. Indeed, to this day he firmly holds -the opinion that it was his vigilance alone that insured so harmless an -end to our desperate expedition, and that if he had not stood by me I -should have conspired again within a week. - -“I puts hit to Mr. Shafthead,” he replied, casting a glance at my -friend which might be compared to a warning in cipher addressed to some -potentate by an allied sovereign. - -“You certainly had better come down with us, Halfred,” said Dick. “The -Lord only knows what the monsieur would be up to without you.” - -And accordingly Halfred went with us to Helmscote. - -Behold me now once more beneath the ancient, hospitable roof, the kind -hostess smiling graciously, the genial baronet roaring with unrestrained -mirth at the tale of our adventures--and Daisy? She was not looking -directly at me; but her face was smiling, with pleasure a little, I -thought, as well as amusement. At night the same welcoming chamber and a -fire as bright as before; only this time no missives thrown through the -casement window. Next morning I am severely left alone; Dick has been -summoned by his father. Half an hour passes, and then, with an air of -triumph, he returns. - -“You'll have to look after yourself to-day, monsieur,” he says. “I'm off -to town to bring her back with me.” - -“Her!” So the stern parent has relented, and some day in the distant -future, I suppose, Agnes Grey will be Lady Shafthead and rule this -house. What Dick added regarding my own share in this issue I need not -repeat, though I confess it will always be a satisfaction for me to -think of one headlong performance, unguided even by Halfred, which -resulted so prosperously. - -Being thus bereft of Dick, what more natural than that I should be -entertained by his sister? - -She speaks of Dick's happiness with a bright gleam in her eye. - -“He should feel very grateful to you,” she says. - -I should have preferred “we” to “he,” but, unluckily, I have no choice -in the matter. - -“I envy him,” I reply, with meaning in my voice. - -Her face is composed and as demure as ever, only her color seems to -me to be a little higher and her eye certainly does not meet mine as -frankly as usual. - -Suddenly I am emboldened to exclaim: - -“I do not mean that I envy him Miss Grey, but his happiness in being -loved!” - -And then I tell her whose love I myself covet. - -She is embarrassed, she is kind, she is not offended, but her look -checks me. - -“How often have you felt like this within the last few months--towards -some one or other?” she asks. - -Alas! How dangerous a thing to let the brother of the adored one know -too much! Dick meant no harm; he never knew how his tales would affect -me; but evidently he has jested at home about my amours, and now I am -regarded by his sister either as a Don Juan or a perpetually love-sick -sentimentalist. And the worst of it is that there are some superficial -grounds for either theory. - -“Ah,” I cry, “you have heard then of my wanderings in search of the -ideal? But I have only just found it!” - -“How can you be sure of that?” she asks, a little smile appearing in -her eye like a sudden break in a misty sky. “You haven't known me long -enough to say. In a month you may make a jest of me.” - -“I am serious at last. I swear it!” - -“I am afraid you will have to remain serious for some time to make me -believe it,” she replies, the smile still lingering. “When any one has -treated women, and everything else, flippantly so long as you, I--” - -She hesitated. - -“You do not trust them?” - -“No,” she confesses. - -“If I am serious for six months will you trust me then?” - -“Perhaps,” she allows at last. - -It means a good deal, does that word, said in such circumstances, but -I am not going to drag you through the experiences of a faithful lover, -sustained by a “perhaps.” _Mon Dieu!_ You have the privations of Dr. -Nansen on his travels to read if that is the literature you admire. - -No; in the words of Halfred on the eve of his nuptials with Aramatilda, -“I ain't what you'd call solemn nat'rally but this here matrimonial -business do make a man stop talkin' as free as he'd wish.” - -I also shall stop talking, and, with the blotting-pad already in my -hand, pray Heaven to grant my readers an indulgent and a not too solemn -spirit. - -[Illustration: 0379] - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of M. 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